Close Protection
by esdiferente
Summary: Time to follow the trials and tribulations of Sgt Naomi Campbell. I could tell you more, but then it would ruin some of the story so lets just say the clue's in the title and there will be Naomily, eventually. Please read the notes on CH1 for more details
1. Blood and Dust

**Close Protection**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt and a severe lack of talent. Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which makes me very upset)

**Premise – **Time to follow the trials and tribulations of Sgt Naomi Campbell. I could tell you more, but then it would ruin some of the story so lets just say the clue's in the title and there will be Naomily, eventually.

**Rating –** M+

**Warnings –** As I said with Avalanche, (and this will be the _**last**_ time I put this on so heed it well) it's based around Skins characters so **adult themes** **and acts **as well as bad language from the start. If you're offended by these then don't read. If you're offended or upset by anything I write then _please_ don't read OK? If you've read my work before you know I'm not one to shy away from stuff and it's possible that there's going to be some fairly graphic bits in this, even right from the start….read the rating it's there for a reason.

**Authors Note - **Right, so this is my first attempt at an AU storyline so be nice. I'll dedicate this one to Nobl's for trying to convince me that I actually had an AU storyline in me, (I've always been so jealous of them), and to the nice people that read this before I posted it and told me it was worth sharing, (both of you were so kind with your words). There will be another dedication at the end, but no spoilers for now.

Oh yeah, I know virtually nothing and I'm making this stuff up, so if there are tons of factual errors please don't throw rocks at me, it's a story ok?

Finally, (yes I will get to the story eventually), please don't go pestering me for updates. This is a bit of fun I'm trying and it _will_ take a back seat to the 'Dragons saga' I'm writing. I'll update it as often as I can, (or can be bothered), for as long as people keep reading it OK?

Thanks and enjoy

Es

**Chapter One – Blood and Dust**

_Helmand Province, Afghanistan – December 2009_

"Fucking cold one today Sarge."

I nodded, checking the action of the C8 CQB I was carrying. It's a variant of the American M4 carbine and I fucking hated it, it had a tendency to jam when dust and sand got into the mechanism, fouling the thick, almost frozen grease and turning it into little more than an oversized baton; and there was a lot of dust and sand in this hell hole, hence my constant checking. We all did it, every last one of us. After two previous eight month tours out here and one in Basra before it we were all paranoid about our weapons jamming.

Just under four years of living on your nerves and watching your friends die does that to you…blood and dust, sometimes that's all this place seems to have.

I guess I'd better introduce myself, Sergeant Naomi Campbell - Royal Military Police, currently serving with the Close Protection Unit, stationed in Gereshk. I joined the MP's straight from school, don't ask me why. I'd always wanted to join the army, wanted to make a difference and at the time the armed forces seemed the way to go. I'd applied to join the Red Caps after deciding that someone needed to keep the rest of the army in check. Plus no-one likes us, we're pretty much loners within the British Army and that's ok with me. I've been a loner all my life.

The army's been good to me, gave me a place to live after my mum died, gave me a good education along the way and has given me some pretty good times too. Some bad times as well; you can't serve in an active duty station and not lose friends and I'd lost more than a few. It seems like half of the people that I came over here with have gone home in bags or in bits. The fucking Taliban are far too good at building their IED's, and those roadside bombs are the plague of our tours.

So anyway, here I am in the armpit of the earth, sitting in the back of an APC with my unit. It's no joke that this place is called known to the boys as the back end of hell. At the end of my last tour we were stuck in 100 degree heat during the day, this time of year it is cold enough for Satan to skate to work…and I'm fucking positive the bastard lives _somewhere_ around here.

I fucking hate this place, still I love the job and this is now my third stay at 'Butlins Afghanistan'. Today we're escorting a high ranking Afghan officer to tour the power station at Kajaki Dam. This means a trip to pick up the package and drop him off at the heli-pad and unfortunately the only way to do this is to drive.

We fucking hate driving around this place, too many IED's and too many spots for an ambush, and the Taliban sure like ambushing us. It's as if we've got a sign around our necks saying "shoot us now" but then if they know what we do I guess we have. Killing VIP's makes good propaganda. Fortunately they haven't managed it yet, not on my watch anyway.

"Everything ready for the off Sarge?"

Captain Frederick "Freds" McClair and I had served for three of the four active duty tours I'd done with the Red Caps. He'd been just another raw Lieutenant that had joined my unit after we'd left Basra; and a barely functioning Corporal, still sick at the loss of some good friends there had been forced to educate him into how things worked in the real world, not how they taught you at Sandhurst.

We weren't friends, he was an officer and I'm a non-com but there's an unwritten law in the Army; new officers trust their non-coms to get it done and the non-coms get it done and let the officers take the plaudits and pass the credit on. It's how it works, and after two tours and promotions for both of us we trusted each other with our lives. That's just how it is.

"Yup," I replied, shouting over the din of the engine that reverberated through the armoured chassis like thunder. "We're picking up the package at 11:00hrs. It's a 45 minute drive back to the base and then an hour in the chopper to the dam. Security at the dam has been stepped up and we'll be ok once we get there. Our pick up is the most likely position for any attack and we've got two Apache gunships standing by for close air support just in case."

"Great! This guy is important to the brass; we can't let anything happen to him."

"Have we ever let them down Captain?"

"Not recently Sarge. Let's get going then."

o+o+o

An hour later and we're on the return journey, the package is safely tucked in the one of the armoured Huskies and the four vehicles are heading back to base and the safety of the waiting troops. It's an anxious business and every one of us that can is scanning the horizon for the danger we know might be out there; freezing our arses off despite the blazing sun.

"Oscar 1-4 this is Charlie Papa 7, we are ten mikes out and proceeding South South East, what is your status over?"

The slightly garbled sound of our air support team comes through the speakers of the radio unit. It's a familiar voice, McClair and I have worked with this flight before. Both of the crews are exceptional and they've dug us out of trouble more than once during our last tour and this one. It's good to be working with them again.

"Charlie Papa 7 this is Oscar 1-4 we are on station approximately 2 mikes to your North, we are tracking you on optical and thermal. We have no hostiles visible, over."

"Roger that Oscar 1-4, do me a favour, keep your eyes open will you. Campbell's got a bad feeling about this one."

I fucking had as well, all day it had felt as if someone had been dancing on my grave in hob-nailed boots. After Iraq I'd learned to trust my instincts, they were usually right. After our first tour in Helmand McClair had learned to trust them too, mine and his own. Sometimes you just know when things are not going to go right; the art of surviving when the shit hits the fan is being well prepared to dodge the spray.

"Will do Charlie Papa 7, never known the Sarge to be wrong yet, do you want an overflight?"

"Negative Oscar 1-4, let's not draw any unnecessary attention to ourselves."

"Willco, Charlie Papa 7. Have a good trip, shout if you need us. Oscar 1-4 Out."

McClair threw the mike back to the rookie radio operator. _Jesus_…this boy looked fresh out of school and fucking gormless, though I knew he'd done a tour in Iraq already with the CPU so he had to be ok…but, well..._fuck he's young_. I guess at 25 everyone looks young; plus his predecessor had been a really good mate of mine so I guess I was predisposed to be a bit funny about him.

Corporal Paul "Whitey" White; my best mate and our old radio monkey. He'd took a .50 cal round through the chest in Kandahar on our last day of our previous tour. We'd been on a so-called 'milk run' escorting a US officer back from a site visit when he'd been hit. Paul had literally just stepped out of the rear of the vehicle in front of me when the sniper cut him down, a lucky shot really, not for Whitey, missed his body armour by millimetres...he didn't have a fucking chance.

We'd never found the fucking sniper either, vanished like smoke into the population once we'd got the package into safety. We'd kicked in doors everywhere looking for him or her, inside we all knew it was a waste of time; we just wanted to be doing something other than boxing him up.

When we got home, after the investigations had finished; I'd been the one that went with the Captain to see his fiancée, Gill was in the final weeks of her pregnancy and they were due to be married the next spring. Paul had even asked me to be his 'best man'. All three of us had laughed at the thought of that, Whitey had told Gill that I was more of a man that most of his mates, and I could drink harder than most of them as well. It was a good memory that one; we'd been so happy. Seeing Gill's face that day as she opened the door…well, let's just say it was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. Afterwards she told me she never wanted to see me again...and she never did. I couldn't face that look of anguish; the look of betrayal, the look that told me it was all my fault, the one that blamed me for being alive whilst her fiancée was dead.

I'd never got pally with anyone else since that day. PTSD and 'Survivor Guilt' the medics had called it, pretty labels for ancient problems that's all they were. Mental _fucking_ Survival is a better description. From that day on the people I served with were my boys and I looked after them like a good Sergeant does. I hurt with them, I bled with them, but I never let them get too close. Whiteys loss had affected me too much to let that happen again.

I looked on as the youngster misjudged another dip in the road surface and smashed back into his seat, the radio set once again taking the brunt of the impact.

"Oi, Jenkins! If you twat that radio once more on the side of this vehicle I will personally force-feed you its broken innards."

I got a dig in my ribs from McClair at that, and a nod to the General who was looking on with interest. I looked across at his piggy little eyes that were regarding me with what looked suspiciously like lust.

"Sorry Sir. Got to keep the little buggers in check, you know how it is."

'_Yeah, fuck you piggy-eyes. If you don't like the way I keep my men alive why don't you get some of your troops to escort you to and from that posh fucking home you live in? Let them get fucking shot at instead of us.'_

Rather than say it, I just look back at him, holding his look, waiting for him to back down, thinking the words and hoping this ignorant, womanising twat would understand. Fucks sake, brass, can't live with them can't fucking shoot them. Instead of backing down his eyes shone with desire and he opened his mouth to speak to me.

"It is unusual to see a woman in such an important role Sergeant; you must be an exceptional soldier as well as an exceptional beauty. I would be delighted if you would meet with me sometime. We do not have many female troops in the Afghan Army; it would be interesting to hear your viewpoint on that."

The smile on his fat fucking face told me that talking was the last thing he was interested in, slimy little shit. Fortunately Captain McClair was not only astute but the soul of formality.

"General I'll pass your request on up the chain. I'm sure someone would be delighted to discuss that with you. I'm not sure I'll be able to release Sgt Campbell here, as you say she's an exceptional soldier. But it is so nice to hear a progressive viewpoint..."

He didn't get time to finish his sentence as the lead vehicle fifty meters in front of us detonated in a blaze of fire. There's a second explosion somewhere behind us and within seconds we're taking incoming small arms fire. The sudden hammering of bullets hitting the armoured sides of the Husky is almost deafening, like having your head inside a drum whilst Dave Grohl goes on a grunge fest.

"Ambush!" the gunner shouted, his 7.62mm machine gun spitting rounds out as fast as it could.

"No shit Sherlock." I shouted back, experience and training taking over, taking stock of the situation immediately.

"Adams, you sit on the General here, you are not to let him out of your fucking sight you understand? If anything happens to him you better shoot yourself son because it will be better than explaining what happened to me. Understand?"

He nodded calmly and took up station, his body in front of the General. He's a good lad Adams, he has promise. I move towards Jenkins who is already cranking up the radio to HQ when I'm suddenly alerted by a shout from the gunner.

"Sarge, looks like we've got Taliban on both sides of the road, they've got AK's and...RPG! EVERYONE DOWN!"

The vehicle is rocked as the grenade round smashes into the engine bay, the driver and coey are killed immediately; as, I assume from the blood pouring onto my head, is the gunner. The rest of us are thrown backwards by the blast. As I pick myself up from the floor I realise I'm pretty much unhurt, but Adams and the General are dead, a four foot piece of steel piercing both of their bodies, skewering them together. Unfortunately for us, they're not the only ones dead.

"FUCK! We've lost the package Sir, Adams, Jones, Harris and Chambers are dead too."

McClair spat blood onto the floor of the APC and shook his head a couple of times before speaking.

"Campbell, get Jenkins and the radio and get into cover, they'll probably hit us again. Get those fucking gunships onto our position and get battalion to send us some backup. Get moving Sarge, let's try and keep our people alive here."

That's what I liked about the young Captain; he'd learnt his lessons well. No panic, no fuss. He knew exactly what we needed to do. Well he should, I'd taught him everything he knew.

Dragging Jenkins to his feet I kicked open the rear doors of the, now shredded, APC. Seeing movement ahead of me I pulled the C8 to my shoulder and lined up my target, the fucker is carrying an AK and is shooting at the number three vehicle that seems to be on fire. Dropping to one knee I let off three shots and smile as the fucker drops to the floor at least two of the rounds hitting him cleanly. Dimly I realise that the insurgent was little more than a kid; I gloss over that unimportant fact, we're under fire and there are more important things to think about than some murdering scumbags age.

"Come on Jenkins, out the fucking door and into those rocks. I'll cover you. Ready? On three...one...two...THREE!"

He leapt out of the vehicle like the devil was after him, or more accurately like a bunch of militant Taliban were after him; and sprinted to the cover point. I ran after him taking snap shots at anything that moved that wasn't wearing our uniform. Behind me I could hear Captain McClair doing the same. I think I hit two more of our ambushers but I couldn't be sure. The books talk about the fog of war, that's fucking bullshit, it's not fog, it's smoke; it's always fucking smoke. This time it's the smoke pouring from our vehicles that's obscuring our view. In fact it's probably the only thing that saved the three of us as we're able to use it to our advantage and hit the rocks through its cover. There's an element of luck involved as well as I can hear the rounds hissing through the air viciously around us as we run. At least they're not clever, shooting into the smoke 'just in case' is a sure fire way of wasting your ammunition. Thank the gods for stupid enemies.

In cover and changing magazine, I'm looking for the rest of the unit through the rocks we've ducked into. I can definitely see that three of the four vehicles are down but I can't see the fourth through the smoke, I offer a silent prayer hoping they've ok but suspecting the worse. I can hear small firefights around me so at least some of the guys are out and safe. I suspect they'll be doing better than the Taliban; we may have all been trained in Military Law and police techniques, but the CPU get serious combat and security training. We know what we're fucking doing and this bunch of sneaky bastards is about to find that out.

"Oscar 1-4 this is Charlie Papa 7, we are under attack, repeat under attack from multiple contacts. We need air support and backup and we need it now guys, danger close, repeat danger close. Popping green smoke for friendlies."

McClairs made it into our cover and has taken the radio from Jenkins and is calling in the heat…fucking awesome.

"Charlie Papa 7 this is Oscar 1-4 we are on our way, repeat on our way. We have multiple targets on TADS, confirm that we see green smoke as friendly and danger is close. Keep your heads down boys; this is going to be tight."

"Sarge, pop another smokie; we've got air support incoming."

I grab a green smoke canister from my bulky body armour and pull the pin, throwing it into the open space in front of us. Almost immediately we come under heavy fire.

"Fucks sake they've got a gimpy out there."

They've certainly got something, and it sounds like a gimpy, the old L7 GPMG. It's a vicious weapon and I really wished I had one in front of me right now. The rocks we're taking cover behind are being battered with 7.62mm rounds from the machine gun and the AK's the insurgents are using. Not for the first time I'm glad I've got the Bollé's over my eyes as my cheek and lip is opened up by a flying splinter leaving a mark on the hardened plastic.

"You OK Sarge?" Freds shouts from his position on my right flank.

"Yeah, flesh wound." I replied, wiping away the blood with the sleeve of my jacket. "I'll be fine. What you got your side?"

"I've got three possibly four trying to flank us. I think the gimpy is locked on you Sarge."

I'd noticed.

"Jenkins? What you got son."

There's no reply. I look across to my left to see him lying face down in the sand, a pool of blood issuing from his throat.

"We've lost Jenkins Cap." I shout across as I return fire at two onrushing ambushers hitting a target cleanly through the chest and wounding his mate with the burst. Taking careful aim I shot the bastard through the drifting smoke as he tried to crawl to his dropped weapon. I only got off two good rounds before the C8 locked open, it's chamber empty.

"Changing mag."

I hit the ejector lever and start to jam a fresh clip into the receiver; before I can get it into place I see two figures jump up onto the side of our cover and start firing wildly. Freds hits one of them with a clean burst and I watch as he drops, fumbling with my sidearm to shoot the other. As I half drag the SIG out of its pouch I watch, unable to do anything to help, as Freds takes a full burst to the chest and face, and then stare in horror at the barrel of the AK swings towards me. I can see the evil smile on my opponents face as he pulls the trigger and I brace for the inevitable impact.

The first round catches me in the right thigh and it hurts like a bastard and I drop to the floor in agony. The next hits me in my body armour, knocking me backwards, taking away my breath and probably cracking my ribs, the third grazes my left shoulder ripping through my jacket and the soft flesh underneath and the fourth passes though my bicep. The rest of the burst smashes into the rocks and sand, showering me with shards of rock and hot metal.

Frankly I'm lucky, that second round would probably have passed just under my body armour if I'd still been standing; falling like that has probably saved my life. Fighting through the pain that's washing through my body I finally manage to drag my sidearm from its leg holster and weakly I aimed it towards my assailant as he lined up his rifle for the kill shot. Slowly he tracked the barrel back until it was pointing right at my eyes and he pulled the trigger. I watched as his face fell and his eyes glanced briefly down to the rifle which has made a click that I can hear over the firefight around me, the bolt locked open, his magazine spent.

You know those scenes in movies? The ones where the hero takes a bullet to their body armour and carries on as if nothing has happened? Or even better the ones where they get shot clean through the shoulder and act as if they're not even hurt? Let me tell you now it's bullshit. Absolute fucking bullshit. The only thing that's keeping me going right now is gut instinct and training; lots and lots of training. I know I'm losing blood, I can feel it ebbing away; I can't breathe properly; the hit into the plate over my chest has taken the impact, but not without breaking one or two of my ribs. I can barely hold the weapon I've stood on a range with and shot for hours. Normally aiming it straight isn't a problem; right now I can barely lift it.

Knowing that it's vital that I make this one last effort before the fucker manages to reload; I raise the seemingly dead weight of my pistol to my eye line. Carefully I line up the iron sights on him and squeeze the trigger, once, twice, three times. It's about all I can manage, the recoil feels like it is ripping my body to pieces and it's all I can do to bring the weapon down for the next shot. Despite this, despite the wounds my aim is true, well almost. My first round hit him through the chest knocking him backwards, the second entered under his chin and exited through the top of his head spraying blood and brains onto the rocks around him. I've no idea where the third round went; don't really care either as I drop the SIG and slump back against the rock, my energy spent.

As I watched him fall to the ground, the air around me very nearly boiled as our air support finally got here, filling the sky with 30mm cannon rounds and hydra rockets. The last thing I see as the darkness grips me is Freds' body sprawled on the sand, eyes open staring right at me as fire rolled around us.

.

.

.

**A/N-** Dedicated to all those brave souls of _**all **_nationalities, beliefs and gender that serve and do what they feel is right. It's a shame we need them. War sucks people, one day I hope we'll learn that.


	2. MedEvac

**Close Protection**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt and a severe lack of talent. Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which makes me very upset)

**Authors Note – **Aw, you're all so nice, time to slow the pace a little methinks.

**Chapter Two – Med-Evac.**

The darkness is lifted as I fight my way to consciousness; dimly I'm aware of voices and gunfire, screams and explosions. I feel a figure hit the ground near to me and open my eyes to see the figure of a woman, her head blown clean off, blood spurting from the severed arteries, hand still twitching on the grip of the AK-47 she's holding. I close my eyes as the pain engulfs me once more and I put my working arm to my leg and hold it, feeling with my fingers the bullet wound. With every nerve in my body screaming for me to stop I try to drag myself further into cover, moving my wounded shoulder and stifling a scream as I do so. I can't afford to draw any more attention to myself, I'm dead if I do.

I hear a figure drop to my side and a rough hand run over my body.

"Sarge you still with me?"

I forced my eyes open again and saw the scarred face of David Laffiete the Corporal that had been assigned to the Number three vehicle. I tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come out. As he pulled me into cover I heard shots ring out and his body fell against me. The last thing I know before I pass out again is the weight of his body smashing into my wounded leg.

I'm dragged back to the real world by the sounds of friendly voices, helicopters and the feeling of being lifted into the air. I opened my eyes to see I'm on a stretcher and I'm being carried over to an area of sand where an improvised medical centre seems to have been set up. I watch as one of the troops pumps the chest of one of my unit, before sitting back and wiping his brow.

"He's gone...call it a day. FUCKERS!"

I knew how he felt.

As I'm carried into the hastily erected area I scream as one of the marines that's carrying me stumbles and loses his footing, almost dropping me to the floor. Within seconds there's a medic, easily identified by his flashes, next to me asking me questions.

"Sarge where does it hurt?"

Stupid fucking question that, I know he's asking to get me talking rather than out of any kind of medical interest, but still it's fucking stupid.

"Where do you fucking think," I manage to croak.

"Nice one Sarge, stay with me ok? Hold on there, we'll get you patched up in a second.

I manage a nod and grip my right hand tightly against the side of the stretcher, my left one doesn't seem to want to work anymore. I heard the click of glass and see the medic bearing over me with a syringe and a broken ampoule.

"Something for the pain Sarge ok? Not too much though, it's still going to hurt, but it'll take the edge off."

He jabbed the needle into my arm, not that I felt it, and seconds later I could feel it doing its job. The pain dulled slightly and I managed to remain conscious throughout the process of 'patching me up.'

Morphine, without any shadow of a fucking doubt, rocks!

I hear the marine medic talking to someone and with a lurch I'm lifted again and carried over to the helicopter that's waiting by the side of the dirt road we'd been travelling on. Absently I noticed that there were a lot of troops around and the distant, professional, part of my military brain applauded their swift arrival. Fuck knows how they did it, but I'm glad they did. I doubt I would have survived much longer. Gunships or no gunships there's nothing like having boots in the dirt nearby when you're in the shit, so don't believe everything the flyboys tell you.

I have a wonderful feeling of dissociation at the moment, either that's down to the blood loss, or the morphine that's just been pumped into my body; I'm not sure which, but it's a weird feeling. I know I should be in fucking agony, instead there's a dull throb and I've got a desire to laugh. Everyone's different; everyone reacts differently to pain and medication. For some strange fucking reason I just want to laugh.

'_I wonder what McClair would say to that?'_

The grief hits me like a club, he wouldn't say anything ever again. He was fucking dead, most of my unit was dead and we'd blown the mission.

"Take these guys straight to Bastion." I heard one of the stretcher bearers shout to the pilot as they placed me in the crew compartment. I could hear groans around me and turned my head to see who else was onboard. It was only then that I realised the groans were coming from my mouth, there were only two other casualties on this chopper other than myself and they were both unconscious.

"Hey Sarge, stay still, this is going to be a bumpy ride and we need to keep those patches working ok?"

'_American...interesting,'_ my drug addled brain registered. I must be on one of the 'shared' choppers; typical British Army, never had enough of what you really need. Body Armour, APC's, Helicopters...we had fuck all but talent, compared to the Yanks, but we made do.

I nodded at the voice, understanding immediately, the medics had put field dressings on my wounds and they were notorious for being easy to move around in transit rendering them useless. We'd always joked in training that if you didn't have them you'd bleed out, but most of the time you'd still bleed out if you did.

In truth they're nothing more than a big gauze pad with some straps. They were designed to help form a clot by holding back the flow by soaking up the blood and slowing the leak. It didn't always work, there was a lot of truth in the saying _'he's a three bagger'_ If you had to use three of the larger patches on someone, the likelihood was that they wouldn't have enough blood left in them to survive.

The crewman worked his way around me throwing a cargo belt over my feet and chest. I could feel him strapping me down for safety, obviously this was a working chopper and not one designed for medic runs. As he tightened the strap across my chest he spoke again.

"We're heading for the hospital at Camp Bastion, don't worry it's the best hospital in the UK let alone Afghanistan, they'll have you back on your feet in no time."

I heard the sound of the rotors spinning up from idle and soon the familiar sound, the low pitched _wop wop wop_ of the tips breaking the air got faster and faster until with a gentle hop we left the ground and headed for the skies. The pilot was obviously doing his best to fly gently, the last time I'd took a trip in the back of a Blackhawk I'd been thrown around something rotten as the pilot had jinked and turned on the way into our base. He'd had a warning that the Taliban had ground to air missiles and he was taking no chances. I very nearly lost my lunch.

The last thing I remember about the journey is the crewman's smiling face looking over me as with a lurch we hit an air pocket and drop through the air. I can feel something grind against the hole in my thigh and with a scream to the heavens I pass out again.

o+o+o

I wake up to find myself in bed in a clean white ward. There's a needle jutting out of my arm and bandages all over my body. Dragging myself upright I pull at the tubes that are dripping shit into me and try to yank them out.

I fucking hate needles.

Suddenly there's a QARANC handbag holding me down and one of the Grey Mafia is reprimanding me sharply.

"Sergeant Campbell you will lie there and not touch that equipment do you hear me? It's there for your own good."

I lay back and scowled at her, instinctively checking her rank badges. "Yes Staff," I reluctantly reply.

"That's better Campbell. Now you've had some very serious injuries and lost a lot of blood. You were in surgery for four hours and you are a lucky soldier Sergeant; the bullet in your leg just missed the femoral artery. If it had hit, well, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now. You have damage to your left shoulder but the bullet passed cleanly through without striking bone; you also have a nice hole, to impress the boys in the mess with, in your upper arm and two fractured ribs for your trouble. So..."

"My unit?"

"I'm sure someone will be along soon to tell you about that, for the moment however you are in my charge and that means that your only responsibility is to lie there and do as you're told."

On some other occasion that'd be funny. I'd laugh about it with the lads later; we'd probably swap some lewd jokes about being ordered around in bed by one of the Red Capes. I knew exactly what they'd be saying as well. I'd briefly dated one of the QA's when we'd been on rotation back in the UK after Basra and I had no doubt the mess-room abuse would be the same...

"_Did she give you a bed bath Corporal?"_

"_Where does she like to put her thermometer?"_

...and more than a few medically explicit ones that I'd tried to blank from my memory.

That's what me and the guys were like when we were out and about in civvy bars on leave and off base. We let our hair down, literally in my case, and shared everything. That's what being a team was all about...no secrets, not from them. They were my boys and they were my family, or they were until Whitey got shot. Then it all changed, they became my unit and my team and no more. But that was ok, because we were the best, are the best.

Except for the fact that I had no idea how many of the team were still alive. No-one was telling me anything. Except to lie still, keep calm and try to heal.

Like I could ever do that.

o+o+o

It was just two days later I received my first proper visitor. I watched as Staff Harper jumped to attention as Colonel Tomone strode into the ward.

"At ease Staff, I'm here to see Sarn't Campbell."

Of course he was, Colonel Thomas Tomone was one of the highest ranking members of the Provost Service in this area of Afghanistan and he knew Captain McClair personally. I never dreamed that he'd be coming to visit me in hospital; this must be more serious than I thought. I dragged myself as straight as I could in the bed as he approached trying to hide my nerves in the usual army smokescreen of formality. He waved a hand at me casually.

"Relax Sergeant," he said, instantly seeing through me, "this isn't a formal visit so don't worry."

'_Damn he's good,' _but then I guess you don't get to head up an operational unit like ours without being good.

"I'm here to break the bad news to you Sergeant, I'm sorry but there's no other way to put this. Your unit suffered 70% casualties. It's the worst loss the Close Protection Unit has had out here; it's the worst loss the British Army's ever had out here in one action and people want answers. If you're well enough I would appreciate it if you could give me your side of the story."

"Do I need a representative Sir?" I asked, still unsure of the situation. He put his head back and laughed, to my professional ear it sounded a bit forced...to be honest I wouldn't have blamed him if it was. It's hard to laugh when you've lost men.

"No Sergeant Campbell that's the last thing you need. In fact, I feel a bit guilty asking you in your current condition but you're my only conscious witness to what actually happened and London is currently demanding answers so here I am. I assure you in front of the Staff-Sergeant here that there are no charges facing you and no need for an Army representative. Is that good enough for you Sergeant, my word as an officer?"

Well, we normally don't trust officers, but I know my legal's like any good MP and if he tried to use anything I say here he'd be in serious trouble. The Colonel has just effectively tied his own hands in front of the Red Cape and given me a free hand.

"Good enough for me Sir." I reply and began my debrief. I told him everything in explicit detail, from the out journey to the pick-up to the return, our contact with Air support, McClairs decision not to have the air escort fly with us to keep things low key and what I remember of the ambush and ensuing fire fight. It's weird, but with the odd question and raised eyebrow from the Colonel, it takes longer for me to tell the story of the ambush that it did to fight through it.

I guess that's always the way. It felt like hours whilst the bullets were flashing past me, but the whole thing was over in minutes. Minutes to kill of most of my mates and hospitalise the rest.

I bite my lip as I finish answering his questions. I haven't bitten my lip since I joined the army, since I found a family again after mum died. It was an old habit that I thought I'd got rid of...obviously not.

"Well that seems perfectly in order Sergeant Campbell, your story backs up what we think happened. The ambush you survived appeared to be a well planned and well executed mission. It looks like they hit the front and rear vehicles first to isolate you then they picked off the rest. They had a perfect spot as well, the Apache's had over flown it earlier and didn't see a thing. An almost perfect ambush, almost too perfect."

"Did someone let something slip Sir?" I asked, recognising the unvoiced accusation in his statement.

"That's an operational issue I'm afraid Campbell and I can't discuss it. Now I understand that you're going to be rotated back to the UK for rehabilitation of your injuries. Do you have family in the UK Sergeant?

"No Sir, my mum died just before I joined up."

Well at least he had the good grace to look sadly at me. "Boyfriend, fiancee?" he continued.

"Girlfriend Sir, well I did have..."

I'd met Amy in a bar, in Ibiza of all places; normally that would be the last place on earth I'd go for a holiday but Whitey dragged me when we were on leave, telling me that it would be a _"perfect place to fuck our brains out without any messy relationships to worry about."_ Funny really, it was on that holiday he'd met Gill and I'd been left to drink alone in the noisy bars.

Amy was stunning, totally out of my league. I'd seen her at the pool earlier in the day, all long legs and white bikini. Her skin glowed with a healthy tan, a real one as well, not the bottled shite that most of the orange tinted tarts in this place were sporting. She walked up to my table, brimming with confidence, and placed a glass down in front of me.

"I thought you could do with a drink, try this it's lovely."

I looked down at the fizzing light green liquid and picked up my bottle of Becks. "Got a beer thanks." I'd said tilting it to her in a drunkard's salute. She'd removed it from my fingers and downed the remaining dregs in one smooth swallow.

"Now you don't, so go on try it."

Several Mohito's later she was very drunk and I was very happy. Amy was smart, educated, classy and totally gorgeous, most of all she actually seemed interested that I was a squaddie. She hadn't run from me the way most girls did when I mentioned it. We'd made our drunken way back to her room that night and in the morning I was gone, leaving a phone number on a hotel notepad and pushing it into her hand.

_Last night was great, but I'm flying out at 11, if you fancy another drink when you're home give me a call_

_Naomi_

I never expected her to call, it was a holiday fuck and nothing more, but she had, and we'd dated for a while. A couple of years almost, though I guess you had to take out my combat tours from that total.

It hadn't lasted though; we'd broke up before I shipped out on this tour.

Just one more combat induced relationship breakup. We weren't the first and we wouldn't be the last.

To his credit Colonel Tomone didn't ask, he probably knew, or knew of similar; he simply raised an eyebrow at me as I paused to think.

"...she wasn't too happy about me signing up for another tour Sir. Wanted me to cash myself out and try and join the Police."

"With your record Campbell you'd probably have had a good chance, why didn't you?"

Yeah, why didn't I? Usual reasons really. Same old boring reasons that every squaddie has I guess. Scared that my unit would be killed if I wasn't there to save them, scared that the outside world hates squaddies, and if I'm totally honest scared of being in that kind of serious relationship.

Amy had wanted us to get a place together, wanted to take things _'to the next level'_, needed me to walk away from the Army in order to do it.

"You love your men more than you love me," she'd accused during one of our more bitter arguments. Truth is - she was right.

I'd stayed in despite her pleading, knowing that it would force us apart. Knowing she'd walk away because that's what she said she'd do if I shipped out again. She never understood me and the Army, but then she was an office worker; a nine to fiver all pens and spreadsheets. Nothing against office workers, but she didn't understand, didn't really want to understand I don't think. She just liked the idea of a girl in uniform with her own handcuffs.

I'm afraid the reality never lived up to her fantasy; fuck knows I never lived up to what she wanted me to be. I know that, she'd told me as she walked away. That was the last I'd heard from her, neither of us had tried to get in contact after that; it was probably for the best.

"Love the Army Sir," I replied simply, avoiding all that relationship bullshit. "Never wanted to do anything else."

He looked me up and down appraisingly and shuffled his feet. "Yes, well. Good luck Campbell. Enjoy being home."

I sat up straight in bed at his dismissal and he touched his cap with his swagger stick by way of salute and turned on his heels. I watched as the Staff leapt to her feet again to salute him and he was gone.

I wondered what that was all about; it was after all a strange dismissal.

.

.

.

**A/N-** So there you go, bit more story, bit more history of our girl. More soon, I promise...but remember guys and gals, no nagging d-:


	3. Home and Homeless

**Close Protection**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt and a severe lack of talent. Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which makes me very upset)

**Authors Note – **Um, reviews and feedback...um OK let me try and answer some here.

_Lumagoo_ – stay interested (-; _Coolbeans_ – Chapter 8 _**if **_you all behave with no nagging lol, lots of other people to meet first, but it will be worth it. _Hawke_ – No you don't, now stop being as paranoid as me! _Hypes_ – just...thanks. _AL_ – go sleep, you sound like I normally do; consider it an order from your old Sarn't Campbell. hg-Omega – Hello and welcome, in answer...no, no and erm...no. Nice guesses though, but you'll just have to wait and see (-:

Right, back to good old Blighty I think, please don't get all upset and angry now you hear!

**Chapter Three – Home and Homeless**

A month or so later I knew exactly what Colonel Tomone meant, and why he had acted so damn strangely. I must have been doped to the eyeballs at the time because I should have seen it, with my training I should have known there was something he wasn't saying.

Cowardly twat.

My orders came through a day or so later, to be honest I'd stopped counting, one day was much like another; bed bath followed by drugs, eating, more drugs, being poked and prodded by the medical teams followed by yet more fucking drugs. I swear I was starting to rattle whenever I rolled over in the bed they wouldn't let me out of. My only distraction from the misery was listening to the radio because I couldn't even hold a fucking book.

The orders that I received were simple, and I found myself shipped home for further medical treatment. I didn't even have the dignity of being able to take myself home on a standard transport. Oh no, my injuries were still classed as potentially life threatening, so I got a ride in the back of one of the new C-17 Globemasters that had been kitted out as an airborne hospital for the 10 hour flight home.

We were apparently supposed to be landing in sunny Birmingham for our transfers, but this being January the airport was covered in fog and we had to divert. Landing on a smaller runway than usual didn't tax the crew much, but it didn't do anything for my recovery. Violent is one way to describe the braking, fucking agonising is another, fuck only knows what the poor buggers that had worse injuries than me thought of it.

I'd been bundled into the back of an ambulance and driven to my next home from home. University hospital in Brum. There I'd been poked and prodded by a set of civvy doctors before eventually, after a week of intensive treatment, being pronounced fit to leave. Not to my unit, I apparently still wasn't fit for that, so I'm bundled into the back of another military ambulance, with a couple of other troops, and shipped down south.

After arriving at Headley Court, the rehabilitation centre in Surrey I'd been assigned to, I'd discovered that what the Doctors hadn't bothered to tell me was that my injuries were worse than I'd thought. I had nerve damage in my left arm. It was minor in the grand scheme of things, it wouldn't mean much to normal people. In fact, they reassured me, it wouldn't affect me in any normal way.

What it _did_ mean for me was that I failed my medical assessment and when I'd finally got back to my unit I'd failed my combat medical tests. That was it, it was a desk job or I was out of the Army.

_Didn't fucking mention that did ya Doc?_

I'd never wanted a desk job, never; in the Army, out of the Army, anywhere really. I was kind of an action-girl, I craved activity; putting me behind a desk would simply have killed me. The very thought of it filled me with dread, to give up action, give up doing something meaningful and worthwhile and replace it with the soul destroying mundanity of moving figures from one column to another in some fucking spreadsheet and having to pretend it all meant something; well it wasn't something I could ever see myself doing.

So, with a heavy heart I did the one thing I never, ever wanted to do. I cashiered in my papers and took a medical discharge.

I would no longer be a Red Cap, no longer be a part of the CPU, no longer be able to proudly announce I was in the Army. They were ok about it, as far as they could be. They gave me time to adjust. They even tried to help me with some careers counselling; ended up suggesting I should look into 'Customer Service', or 'Office Administration'. Even offered to put me on a fucking NVQ to get a meaningless qualification for a job I didn't want to do.

_No fucking thanks. _

So at the end of my rehabilitation, when I was declared medically fit to leave I did so, and good fucking riddance. I'd given the best part of my life to the Army, sacrificed friends and lovers for it and now, when I needed them the most they had cast me aside like a broken toy. Which in effect, I guess, I was.

As I left the barracks on that cold March morning I had no fucking idea what I was going to do with my life. I was out of a job and I didn't have a home to go to. I thought for a second about ringing Amy but dismissed it almost as quickly. She would have moved on, we had both moved on. We were different people now, and I knew that she wouldn't want to know me. She'd made that perfectly clear when I broke us up, when I chose the army over her. With the guys from the unit dead or still in hospital, there was only Amy and Gill that I could think of that had ever been a part of my life and neither of them wanted to see me. Basically I was fucked.

In desperation I'd called in a favour or two from guys from the unit that had quit during my time, at least the ones I still had contact details for, and I spent a few weeks crashing in different places trying to find something to do. I thought about joining the police, or the fire service, they were at least active jobs; but the positions were few and far between and they all required a permanent address to apply, I was couch-surfing, I had nowhere and no-one.

It was about then that the nightmares started.

It was strange really. I'd seen a lot of things in my time, seen mates killed, shot and killed my own share of bad guys as well, but this was the first time I'd actually had nightmares about anything. They say the brain cannot forgive you for taking another life, but that wasn't my problem, it wasn't the people I'd killed that haunted me, it was the ones who had died around me.

Every night I relived the ambush, relived every death in almost loving detail. I could smell the burning fuel and rubber and the stench of burning flesh. I could feel the heat from the burning vehicles and I could feel the pain of every round that hit me. That wasn't the worst part though, the worst part always came right at the end and I always woke up screaming as the dead face of Frederick McClair fixed me with his death stare, opened his mouth and asked me why I hadn't saved him.

Every fucking night since I left the army I'd been haunted by that scene, every night I'd woken up in a strange place drenched in sweat and calling out his name.

To say I was a fucking mess was an understatement. In order to kill the nightmares I'd taken to drinking…vodka, brandy, cooking sherry, anything really. Anything I could get my hands on that would numb the pain and take away the faces. My mates looked at me with pity at first, but eventually, one by one, the doors stopped opening and the phone messages went unanswered. I spent weeks, with nowhere left to go, living on the streets of London, begging and thieving to get by.

It was about the lowest I had ever been, begging passersby for change so I could buy some fags, buy some booze and occasionally, all too infrequently really, buy some food. I was falling apart, and day after day I hoped and prayed for a change that would give me my old life back, or kill me so I could join my mates.

I found out about the seedy underbelly of London, the drugs, the street gangs and the hookers and their pimps. I'd even been approached by one tall Russian wannabe gangster on a cold night in March. He made the mistake of threatening me, thinking I was a simple runaway; the kind of easy meat cunts like him prey upon day after day. He told me that I would be working for him from now on if I wanted to live. Fucker wanted to make me one of his 'girls.'

He'd even tried to beat me up when I walked away from him, though not after telling him to go fuck himself. He came at me with a knife, his cold eyes glinting with pleasure at the pain he was about to dish out. I think the last thing he expected was two broken arms, one broken nose and a pair of bollocks the size of beach balls. I'd took his knife and cut him for good measure, not deep but enough to remind him every day he looked in a mirror that he'd messed with the wrong girl. From that day on everyone left me alone, even the street bums I'd got on with didn't want to be near me any more. I was a mad, violent bitch and everyone was scared of me.

It felt fucking good. I was alone again, but on my terms. I had some control back in my life.

I didn't even have many nightmares during this stage of my life; though I suspect it was because I never managed to sleep long enough to have them. I'd fallen into the old habits that I'd learnt in Iraq and Afghanistan. Sheep short and wherever you could get it; whenever it was safe to do so, and most importantly never, never, let yourself sleep so soundly you put yourself or your men in danger. It was a habit that had probably kept me alive over there, and had done so over here as well.

The streets of London aren't a nice place at the best of times; and you simply can't stay in the nice well lit areas because the police tour around and make themselves a nuisance of themselves, moving you on the minute you got comfortable. I'd learnt quickly to stay out of town during the night, too many dickheads around, too many of them dangerous.

After one attempted rape and one more attempted beating I left the city centre for the good of my health and headed out east. I had my own spot underneath one of the flyovers of the A4. It was quiet, off the beaten track and I got left alone. There were also plenty of places to break into if I needed food or money. I tried to do that as little as possible though, I had spent all my adult life as a Military Police officer, but then needs must, and I'd been trained how to survive.

Does that surprise you that I would steal, given my background, given what I used to do? Well it shouldn't, and until you've spent night after night shivering with cold because you're underdressed for a British winter and too undernourished to hold onto your own body heat, you should shut the fuck up. Really.

At least I finally managed to give up the drinking, realising that it compromised my safety whilst on the streets. My only vice now was cigarettes; and I rationed them carefully, not knowing when I would have enough money to buy some more. Food became my priority for the first time in months. My bedraggled clothes were hanging on me and even the coat I'd been given at a soup kitchen near Victoria was now too big. I was losing my muscles and losing my figure. I only realised how bad it had become when I saw my reflection in a shop window one night and didn't recognise myself.

I must have spent ten minutes staring at my gaunt cheeks, my skinny frame and my sad eyes before I acknowledged in my heart what I knew in my head. I was a fucking drunken mess and I needed a change. I'd never been fat, but I used to at least have a shape I was proud of, so I took the cash out of my pocket, and for the first time in weeks I didn't spend it on booze or fags. I walked into a cheap fast food joint and bought a box meal.

At first I struggled to keep it down, my stomach so constricted from the enforced starvation, but eventually, in the safety of my cardboard fortress, I ate it all and felt warm and full for the first time in weeks. It was the beginning of the change; perhaps for once the Gods were smiling on me. From then on I begged for change and begged for jobs, I walked wherever I could to save money so that I could eat and the enforced exercise and the food I managed to keep down started to make me feel better about myself. I was even starting to look and feel like the old me, doing exercises in parks like I used to, before that last tour, before the ambush, before everyone died.

Before the Gods decided to strike me down for not doing my job and keeping them all alive.

It was a wet Sunday in late April when I met him, one of those freaky chance encounters that occasionally happen in your life. I'd moved closer to the city for the day and was sat huddled in a blanket not far from Sloane Square. I knew I was safe here for a while, the posh twats never came here on a Sunday night as everywhere important to them was closed. Well, apart from a few restaurants but I was nowhere near them; they always phoned the police if they saw you. I guess homeless people like me are bad for their customers. When you're spending thirty quid on a fucking bowl of soup you don't want to look out of a window and see a bedraggled brunette, piss wet through and looking miserable staring back at you.

"Spare any change for an old solider mate?" I asked for about the thousandth time today. It had actually been a good day's begging on the whole, Sundays often were. I'd got about twenty five quid in my stash, enough for something to eat, something to smoke and the bus fare to try and get a bed for the night at one of the centres. My target muttered his assent and dug into his pocket dropping a couple of two pound coins into my box, glancing at my face before shaking his head and walking away muttering to himself.

"Thank you sir." I said out loud as he walked away, back stiff, "it's much appreciated". Suddenly he stopped and turned around to look at me.

"Campbell, Corporal Campbell is that you?"

I stared back at him, not really recognising the chubby face or the curly hair. "What's it to you if it is?" I asked suspiciously.

"Fucks sake Corporal, what the fuck are you doing on the streets? I thought you were in Afghanistan."

"Sorry mate, do I know you?" I asked loosening the blanket around me and putting my hand onto the handle of my knife.

He walked over and dropped to his haunches in front of me, he put his hand over his forehead and smiled and suddenly it hits me. I know this guy, used to serve with him.

"Lieutenant Jones, how pleasant it is to see you on this lovely night. Thanks for the cash" I added dismissively. Like I want to see anyone that I know when I'm in this state.

"I thought it was you, well I mean that I knew when you spoke that the probability was that it was you. How are you Corporal?"

I looked at him sourly. "Oh, I'm just tickey-fucking-boo Sir as you can see. Oh and it was Sergeant not Corporal. I got promoted after I left Iraq. But I guess it's just plain Campbell now."

"Congratulations Sergeant Campbell, now why are you here on the streets, why aren't you in Afghanistan." He suddenly stood up shock etched on his face. "You haven't gone AWOL have you? Because that would be bad and I would have to phone the police."

"No I'm not AWOL, I got MD'd. Convoy I was in got hit in Gereshk and I got cashiered. Desk job or the streets, so I chose the streets."

"Medically Discharged? Were you injured? Are you ok now?"

"I'm fine, the holes hurt in the cold and wet, but that's not a problem in jolly old England is it. Never a bad day since I've come home. It's just like being back in Basra, hot and fucking sunny every fucking day."

He blinked at my sarcasm. I actually felt a bit guilty; he wasn't a bad LT when he'd joined my unit, just a bit green. Sergeant Langdon, a grizzled old school non-com, and I had broken him in. From what I'd heard in the unit he'd done quite well for himself in Basra, getting a lot of plaudits from the higher ups for the service he and his team delivered in that shitty little city.

"I take it you had nowhere to stay when you left?"

"I did, but not anymore. You know how it is Sir; no-one wants to know a wounded pissed up ex-squaddie."

He looked at me appraisingly as if a thought had come across his mind that he liked.

"Well I do, get up Sergeant you're coming with me. I think some food and a hot bath would do you good, then I have a proposal for you that might get you off the streets."

'_Not a fucking chance you fucking pervert. I may be down and out but I'm not becoming your fucking whore'_. I've got my hand on my knife and I'm pointing it at him with hate in my eyes. Surprisingly he simply smiled at my look and ignored my threat.

"Not like that Campbell." He dug in his pocket and handed me a card.

"I won't push this because obviously I've just offended you, but this is me. I'm working privately now for an independent company based here in London. We're always looking for talent and I just happen to know that you're exactly the sort of person we're looking for. I'm sure I can get you an interview with the boss."

He wrinkled his nose at me, "but not as you are Sergeant, definitely not as you are."

He turned once more and walked down the road to a large black 4x4 that was parked on a meter.

"Call me Campbell, I can put you up until you get the job and get yourself straight. I'm giving you a chance here...I suggest you take it."

I looked down at the card he'd handed to me.

Jeremiah Jones

_Private Security Contractor_

Great title, I flipped the card over. _'Close Protection'_ it read _'When others fail, we serve to protect'_

Great, he's offering me a chance of a job at a two bit fucking bodyguard agency. Judging by the style of the text on the card it's American and probably run by one of the smarmy wankers I had to deal with all the time in Iraq. You know the kind, all teeth and sharp suits. Couldn't tell one end of a rifle from the other, the ones that hired people like me to do their dirty work for them and got rich off our sweat and all too often our blood.

Still in a sense that's no different to what I was doing for the Army, close protection work was what I was trained for, and I was fucking good at it; one of the best.

As I snuggled down into my sleeping bag in my cardboard shelter, I thought about the offer. It would probably be shit, but then as I'm not all-seeing how would I know?

And what really did I have to lose?

LT Jones had offered me a place to stay and the chance for a new start, perhaps I should just take it and see what happened. Perhaps I should steer clear and make sure no-one else suffered my bad luck.

Jeremiah Jones the card had said; I knew different. I'd read his transfer papers when he'd arrived in Basra. _Jonah_ Jeremiah Jones was his full name; I'd asked him about it one day, why he'd dropped his first name. His answer was so obvious I should have guessed it.

"Who wants to be saddled with a Jonah Corporal? I've got enough problems being new without having that label as well."

He was probably right and I'd promised to keep his secret and I was glad I had. However I'd spent the last few months wondering if I had been the Jonah, if I had been the bad luck charm, the reason that everyone had to die. Perhaps it was just safer if I didn't get involved, kept myself alone and tried to survive on my own.

Perhaps then the nightmares would stop forever, and I'd be able to sleep again.

.

.

.

**A/N-** Poor Naoms, damn I do feel guilty. But isn't it nice to hear JJ is doing well for himself on leaving the army?

More old friends appearing in the next few chapters. Stick with me, more soon(ish) I've left two girls in London, and as you've heard. It's not a nice place!


	4. Rehabilitation into Society

**Close Protection**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt and a severe lack of talent. Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which makes me very upset)

**Authors Note **– not the direction some of you thought eh? Well, stay with me people we've got a long journey ahead of us, and plenty of surprises along the way.

**Chapter Four – Rehabilitation into Society**

Three days later I took Lieutenant Jones up on his offer.

To be honest living on the streets isn't my idea of fun and the thought of starting again appealed. Time to get a bit of dignity back I thought as I dialled the number on the card.

What really did I have to lose?

"Close Protection, Jeremiah Jones speaking."

"LT, it's Sergeant Campbell. Look, I know it's been a few days, does the offer still stand?"

"Sarge, I'm very glad you called. Usually when people don't call back immediately the odds are they will never call back." I heard him pause and take a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Sorry, got a little carried away there. Yes Sarge, the offer still stands. Where exactly are you, I'll have someone pick you up."

"I'm not really dressed for an interview LT."

I wasn't either; the last three nights had been pretty rough on me. Probably the roughest nights I'd spent on the streets in fact. After Jones had driven away I'd tried to get a place at the St Mungo's hostel in Hammersmith. I think they remembered my face because they told me they were full; the receptionist looking shifty as he did so. I knew the fucker was lying; old Police habits die hard you know? I was a fucking good Red Cap before I joined the CPU and I can smell a liar from a mile away. I'd only remembered I'd been barred entry for getting into a fight there _after_ I settled down in my boxes under the A4 flyover. Fucking typical, I could have saved myself a walk.

That was the first night the nightmares came back. I don't know why they did; it wasn't as if I was sleeping any longer than usual, or any deeper. Even though I was away from the main trouble spots in the city centre didn't mean it wasn't dangerous where I was. I still slept with the proverbial one eye open.

But they came back with a vengeance; as the cars and Lorries passed over me on the elevated roadway the repetitive thump, thump, thump as they ran over the expansion joints metamorphosed in my exhausted brain into the sound of rotor blades.

_Wop Wop Wop_

As the noises above me slipped into my unconscious mind, I dreamt of the Apache's circling overhead firing at anything that was still moving. I could hear the sounds of screaming as the shells landed in and around us before I looked again through the fire to see Captain McClair staring at me. This time though he was joined by that of Jenkins and Adams, and Jones and Chambers. Laffiete and Harris, Collins and everyone else that had died on my watch on those four fuck-awful tours. But worse that that, worse than all of those accusing faces that had drawn themselves up in rank and file order, was the one face I dreaded seeing in this dream.

There he was, large as life and twice as ugly; the bullet hole in his chest clearly visible and still pumping blood. There, in the background of my crew, the corpses I'd left behind was my old mate Whitey staring at me through bloodstained eyes.

Each and every one of my dead mates asking me the same fucking thing; over and over they asked, each one staring at me with pain in their eyes. The same question, the one I didn't have an answer for.

"_Why Campbell, why didn't you save me? Why did you let me die?"_

Why _did_ I let them die?

...and I wake up screaming once again.

o+o+o

After the second night of this I knew I had to get off the streets, screaming wasn't uncommon in the cardboard villages that sprang up each night. But a woman, alone, waking up screaming was easy prey; or so people thought. After surviving five separate attacks in those two days and nights; I knew my time in London or in this situation was done. So as soon as I had the safety of the morning light I headed for the nearest station, found a payphone and dialled the number. Finally getting through to him on the fourth attempt.

"_I'm not really dressed for an interview LT." _

"I appreciate that Sarge, I know you'll need a hot bath and a change of clothes. Probably a good haircut as well. Listen, tell me where you are and I'll get my wife to pick you up. She'll be driving a black BMW X5 so you'll know who she is when she pulls up. I'll make a couple of calls, I'm sure we can sort you out."

I told him where she could find me and he gave me the number plate of the car as well. I sat in an alley at the back of the station and smoked the last cigarette I had, and decided it was the last one I'd ever smoke. Hopefully Lieutenant Jones and his wife would be able to put me back on the right path and stop me fucking my life up any more than I already had. I'd quit the booze and I vowed to quit the fags; time for a new start.

An hour and forty minutes later I spotted the car pulling into the street to the side of the station. It pulled up to the kerb about a hundred yards from where I had hidden myself in a shop doorway, buried under some boxes. I'd bivvied down to wait, camouflaged in the boxes waiting for the relief to arrive. I was too paranoid to just accept his help for what it was. My instinct and my training were taking over, telling me that I should scope out the scene before committing myself.

You just can't be too sure these days can you?

I watched as the female driver sat and looked around her, it looked like she was alone. Making sure that everything looked normal and that the number plate was correct I pulled myself up from my cardboard basha and walked towards the car staying on the pavement, staying just out of reach of the vehicle as the window rolled down. I'd heard of too many street girls, and boys, being snatched by getting too close to a car. I'd not heard of any that had come back alive or unscarred.

"Hi, you must be Sergeant Campbell. I'm Lara, JJ's wife."

I looked at her blankly. "JJ?"

"Yes, JJ…Jeremiah...Lieutenant Jones."

Jesus my brains must be turning into fucking mush, JJ...Jeremiah Jones. Naturally...idiot.

"I'm Campbell, Naomi" I added, as suddenly I felt awkward about not sharing my first name with this pretty young blonde. The LT had done well for himself, but then I dimly remember thinking that when he'd come back from leave; arriving at the base in Basra all excited and showing everyone a picture of his newly acquired fiancée.

"Mind if I check the car?"

She looked at me strangely and shook her head, gesturing to me to do so. I opened the back door and checked that there was no-one present behind the darkened glass before opening the rear hatch to do the same.

"Want me to get in here?" I asked.

"Sorry?" She replied confusion painted all over her face.

"I'm not really in a fit state to sit on those leather seats. I'll sit back here."

"Naomi, please, don't be so silly. If you make a mess I'll just get the car valeted, it's really not a problem."

It is to me though, being back in the presence of normal, civilized people has made me realise just how trashed I've become. My clothes are ripped and muddy, my trainers have so much dirt encrusted on them their original colour is lost in the depths of time. Basically I'm a tramp, I've been one for weeks and I can only assume that I fucking stink.

I get into the passenger seat of the car and buckle up. It's strange to be in a car again, I'm struggling to think of the last time I was in a vehicle, apart from the odd bus and military trucks shipping me here and there. The last time I was in a 4x4 like this was in Afghanistan, sat smoking on the passenger seat of one of the Snatch Landy's; bombing around the desert like we were fucking indestructible.

"Naomi, I like it, it suits you, it's pretty...it's a pretty name."

I grunt in reply, "It's nice of you and the LT to take me in like this. Thanks."

"Not a problem Naomi, JJ used to tell me all about his Sergeant and Corporal double teaming him when he was a raw officer in Iraq. He used to send me letters when he was in that horrible place, when I used to worry about him all the time. He used to tell me as long as you and Sergeant Langdon were with him he'd be as safe as houses. Said you both taught him so much. He told me last night how you'd saved his life."

I did? I have no idea if that's true. Basra wasn't a good tour for me, I was desperate for a promotion, it was my first combat tour with the CPU and to cap it all I was faced with a rookie officer in charge of our unit. Don't remember saving his life though and I tell her as much.

"Oh yes, I'm so glad he didn't tell me this story when he was stationed over there, I'd have been sick with fear all the time and that wouldn't have been good for the baby. He said you pulled him back from an insurgent booby trap and then single handedly cleared a room of those insurgent people that were waiting in ambush, before letting anyone else go through. He told me he'd have been blown to pieces if you hadn't stopped him. Blown to pieces or shot to pieces if he'd made it in."

I shrugged, I remember that now. Don't see it as saving his life though. It was what we did. CPU had been seconded to help flush out an insurgent unit deep in Basra city. I had been doing my job like everyone else. Sgt Langdon had told me I was to make sure nothing happened to 'that greenie' and I'd done as he'd asked. Well he _had_ threatened to _'rip your fucking tits off and feed them to you'_ if I failed in my duty. I liked Langdon, he was refreshingly direct, and he'd taught me a lot.

"How is 'The Grouch' do you know?"

"Dead I'm afraid; his land-rover hit one of those IED's by the airport, he was killed instantly. That's when JJ decided that his time was up. Said that as his two good luck charms were no longer with him he was getting out. Saved up his pay and bought himself out. Took him a year and a loan from his dad but he did it. Just before he was due to go back as well."

"Doing all right for himself, by the look of it." I said gesturing at the totally over the top Chelsea tractor; trying to ignore the pain of the loss of my old sergeant, ignore the guilt that I'd left him behind to die too.

"Company vehicle," she'd blathered on, thankfully oblivious to my agony. "But yes, he's doing all right since he joined Close Protection. He told me he was going to try and get you a job there."

"Apparently, though I'm not going to have much of a chance looking like this."

"Well Naomi, that's where I come in. JJ has told me to get you cleaned up, spruced up and to get you some new clothes. So we're off to my favourite spa then I'm off for a bit of shopping while they look after you. It's all arranged."

Oh Jesus save me. Seriously, do I _look_ like someone that would go to a spa? I'm a squaddie for fucks sake; I've got cordite under my fingernails – figuratively speaking; at the moment I don't _have_ any fingernails and my skin is brown with dirt. I'm not sure they would even let me into a fucking spa, let alone let me use the facilities; not looking like this. I think I'd have a better chance of getting through the door if she took me to a jet-wash and hosed me down first.

"Right I'll just ring them and let them know we're on the way." She pushed a few buttons on the X5's dash and I hear a voice pipe a hello over the speakers.

"Sarah darling it's Lara Jones. I'm on my way with the client I mentioned, her name is Naomi Campbell and..." she pauses at the slight titter at the end of the phone, "Sarah it's not in the least funny, that _is_ my clients name." Her voice hardened slightly, but nothing that you would call offensive. "Sarah, Jeremiah's company puts a _lot_ of wealthy clients your way so I'd appreciate your best service and no bullshit from you or your staff. Naomi is a bit of a special case and I want the full works, hair, skin everything darling, you understand?"

Well I hadn't expected that, Lara has got some bite and is not afraid of using it.

"Now Naomi darling," she asked, hanging up on the call and glancing across at me, mentally sizing me up. "What dress size are you?"

It went downhill from there.

The spa was a fucking nightmare. I've been showered, given some kind of fucking salt rub, oiled, massaged to within an inch of my life, caked in mud and finally, when I assume they thought I was clean enough, allowed into the pool in a borrowed costume. This was the best bit of the day for me; I love swimming, not only is it fun and effortless for me, it kept me fit and toned throughout my Army days.

I hated staying fit in Afghanistan because there weren't any pools and I had to make do with swimming anywhere I could, usually in the nearest canal or water culvert. The alternative was a lot more running and that's not me at all. I'll do it, but I really don't fucking enjoy it.

I must have swum length after length in that pool, it was hard work because a couple of months on the streets hadn't exactly kept my fitness up, but I was doing ok considering. Not exactly up to military standards, but my recent attempts at looking after myself had obviously paid off a little. Eventually I pulled myself up onto the side of the gleaming pool and took a breather. I was surprised to see Lara waiting for me.

"Thought you were trying to swim to France there Naomi. I wasn't sure if I should stop you or not. Right, you need to shower and follow me, Franco is waiting."

Franco turned out to be a tall, dark bloke all muscles and white teeth. He also appeared to be the spa's hair stylist by the way he tutted and moaned about the state of my hair.

"I will have to cut it short you understand, because this hair is ruined. I am sorry but that is what I will have to do." I wasn't sure what accent he was attempting there, somewhere between Spanish and Italian to my trained ears, but I knew differently.

"I don't care mate, it's only fucking hair. Cut it as short as you need to; shave the fucking stuff off if you have to."

I'd seriously considered that when I was in Iraq, long hair stuck under a mark 6 helmet just made my head itch. It was only Amy that had stopped me doing it; she said she loved my long hair, probably the only thing about me she had loved apart from the uniform.

To his credit Franco looked genuinely horrified at the thought of shaving my head and spent what felt like an hour fussing around trimming bits off here and there.

"So Franco," I said once we were alone, Lara having gone "shopping darling" again. "Is it Aigburth or Toxteth you're from?"

He looked at me shocked before checking the coast was clear

"How did you know?"

"Served with a few Scousers in my time mate, get to pick up the accent if you know what you're looking for. Once a scally always a scally yeah?"

"Actually, I'm from Birkenhead."

I knew it, well, knew he was more Scouse than fucking Spanish.

"You're a plazzy, nice one. I did a tour in Afghanistan with a guy from Wallasey."

"Just up the road that is."

I nodded looking at him in the mirror. "So why Franco and why the accent?"

"Miss can you imagine how hard it is to get good stylist work down here when you're called Frank and you're from Birkenhead? Damn near impossible I can tell you. So here I'm Franco and I've managed to fool all of the posh birds that come in here so far. Including your friend Mrs Jones."

I tapped the side of my nose with my finger. "Your secret's safe with me Frank, I'll take it to the grave."

"For that Miss Campbell, you'll get my very finest work."

I did as well, he was professionalism incarnate as he trimmed the fucked up mess of my hair into something that looked neat and presentable.

Finally he looked at me and cupped my face in his large hands.

"Tell me my dear, have you ever thought about going blonde; it would suit this pretty face immensely."

"That is brilliant," I heard Lara shriek behind me, reappearing in the salon; "she would look even more stunning as a blonde. Naomi you just have to let him do it."

I shrugged for what I hoped was the last time today and the deal was done.

When he was finished and some make up expert had been and gone I looked in the mirror at a different woman. I was pretty impressed with the results. The hair was shorter that it had been but still had some length to it ending around the shoulders. It was now a pale platinum blonde colour; I'd never been blonde before and I found I kind of liked it. The hair and make up had actually made my eyes look more blue than they normally did and fuck me if I wasn't actually quite pretty. If I met myself in a bar I'd probably try it on, if you know what I mean.

"Well I'd give you a job Naomi." Lara said as she walked back into the room carrying a large bag. "You look stunning. Now, I've got you some clothes here, go and get changed. I've arranged for you to meet James downstairs in the bar in twenty minutes."

I hesitated again, just for a second, was this some kind of joke? Doll me up like a whore and then set me up with a guy in a bar? What the fuck kind of a place was this? I knew it was too good to be true!

"James Cook, Naomi," she said, presumably spotting the look on my face through the mirror. "He owns Close Protection. He'll be conducting your interview."

.

.

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**A/N-** Yay I get to write an AU Cookie….he he he!


	5. James Cook

**Close Protection**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt and a severe lack of talent. Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which makes me very upset)

**Authors Note **– Wow here's chapter five already, ladies and gentlemen please be upstanding for the arrival of James Cook...enjoy.

**Chapter Five – James Cook**

Fifteen minutes after she's dragged me into the changing rooms, I'm dressed in a dark blue business suit and I think I'm looking quite smart. Lara has got pretty good taste and although the only skirt I've worn since I was a teenager has been with my dress uniform; the one that matches the jacket I'm wearing is quite nice, knee length, not too tight...tasteful.

I take a look in the mirror, checking myself out front, sides and back, adjusting seams and shoulders ensuring everything is just so – I've spent almost all my adult life in uniform and uniforms have to be right or you never hear the end of it so old habits die hard. As I take one last look in the mirror I'm struck by just how professional I actually look. The suit is similar to my dress uniform in styling and for the first time since the ambush I'm feeling a little bit more like the old me. I'm finally ready to face the world, or at least James Cook.

Lara's given me a bit of a background on Cook as I've dumped the robe and got dressed. It turns out I was wrong, he does know one end of a rifle from the other. James Cook; born in Baton Rouge Louisiana, 30 years old, ex-US Ranger, decorated four times on active service, and not just with the joke that was the Purple Heart.

I remember taking the piss out of a US Marine when Whitey and I were on 2 weeks leave in Dubai; the unit having done a 4 month straight tour in Afghanistan. We'd ripped the twat apart for wearing his medal proudly on his dress uniform as he'd been trying to chat me up.

"You got a medal for being so stupid you got fucking shot?" Whitey'd announced to a full hotel bar. "Fucking hell mate, do you yanks get a medal for taking a shit in a combat zone as well?"

We hadn't won any friends amongst our allies that day.

If James Cook had been awarded the Purple Heart, he had the dignity not to put it on his resume, his medals were honest and by the looks of the advertising 'blurb' Lara had acquired for me, it was a pretty good record as well. Cook had served multiple tours in both Iraq and Afghanistan first as a sniper, then as part of a special protection unit; before quitting the military and setting up his own business. He had started small, just himself and a few trusted colleagues, but he had been successful and now is the owner of what he described on the 'blurb' as a "small but very well respected private security firm".

According to Lara, Cook only picks the best to work with him. His staff is comprised of ex-servicemen and women; and all of them from specialist units around the world. Apparently "Cookie" takes a pride in offering his clients bodyguards who have not only seen combat, but have survived it and led their people out of danger. From what Lara tells me it makes his clients feel 'secure'.

Cook's business offers a worldwide service covering everything from a bit of personal body guarding for celebrity clients, to combat zone protective duties, like the ones Jones and I did in Iraq and Afghanistan. Most of the time it was personal protection services for businessmen looking to broker deals in the 'newly liberated' societies.

It was all a lot to take in, from the sounds of things James Cook did make his living off everyone else's blood; he just knew what it felt like to bleed. That, surprisingly enough, made me feel a whole lot better.

"Nervous?" Lara asked as I checked myself for the hundredth time.

"Not really."

I wasn't lying, not at all. I had a chance to change my life, and yes that was a little nerve wracking. I didn't want to end up on the streets again, and I knew that's where I'd be if I fucked this up. The thing is you can't afford to actually _be_ nervous; not in my line of work, nerves like that get you killed. I am concerned though, I really, _really_ don't want to fuck this up.

We made our way down into the bar area where a tall man with blonde hair, brown eyes and a cheeky grin on his face was sat at a table talking to one of the spa's staff. He looked up as he saw us approach and got up to wrap Lara in a hug.

"Lara babes, you're looking gorgeous as usual. I have no idea what you see in that boy, but you know where I am if you ever change your mind"

She smiled at him and gave him a hug, obviously this kind of flirting was commonplace between them.

"James darling you know I wouldn't give up JJ for you. I know too much about you and your little ways. Besides, as if you'd ever leave her for little old me."

He smiled back, his cheeky face glowing at her teasing. "Hell babe, you can't blame a guy for trying. How's little Albie? JJ tells me all about him but, hell, you know I don't believe anything he tells me."

She slapped him affectionately on the arm and gave him chapter and verse on her little boy as I looked on appraisingly. James Cook is not your typical US Ranger type, I'd met a few on leave here and there and in my experience they're all muscles and no brains. Most of the ones I had met couldn't take the word "No" for an answer, one or two of them couldn't even grasp "I don't fuck tossers," as an answer either.

One particularly persistent fucker couldn't even take the hint when I had my tongue down Amy's throat on the one occasion she'd deigned to meet me when I was on leave from Butlins. He seemed to think it was an invitation for a fantasy threesome. By the time Amy had finished with him his ears were burning with humiliation, by the time _I'd_ finished with him it wasn't just his ego that was swollen. You just don't lay hands on my girl like that, not if you can't take the consequences.

James Cook isn't like that though; the guy is good looking and what's more he knows it; but most of all he's shrewd. All the time he's been chatting to Lara in that soft Southern drawl he's been sizing me up. I'm pretty sure the interview started before I even walked through the door and I'm guessing he knows as much about me as I do.

"James, this is Naomi Campbell. Naomi, this is James Cook." Lara had said, making the introductions. "Right I'll leave you two to it as Franco is going to sort out this mess on my head." Her hair actually looked stupendous, as it had all day. "Naomi, when you're done get one of the girls to find me and we'll have a drink before we leave, ok?"

I nod and watch as she bustles away. We're polar opposites her and me but already I like her, she's been nothing but nice to me since we met and I appreciate that. It feels like a long time since anyone was nice to me.

"Miss Campbell can I get you a drink before we start?" He waved over one of the staff and ordered himself a bourbon on the rocks.

"Glass of water please, preferably sparkling, slice of lime if you have it."

Cook looked at me disappointedly, "Oh come now Naomi; I can call you Naomi can't I?" he checked, probably knowing I wouldn't object. "Have a drink with me, live a little, it's all on the company buck, consider it a thank you for agreeing to see me."

"No thanks, I'm fine," I replied, as sweetly as I could manage, hoping it didn't come across as rude. "I'll just have a glass of sparking water please."

He shrugged his shoulders placing the order with the waiter and dismissing him politely. With a sweep of his arm he gestured for me to sit down.

We simply regarded each other as we waited for the drinks, he's actually quite impressive. Quite tall, stocky and well muscled. His blonde hair was cropped quite short and he had an aura of quiet competence. All in all he's probably a bit of a ladies' man, but he doesn't give me the impression that he acts that way. I bet he did in his youth though, there's a quiet twinkle in his eye that just screams 'bad-boy'. I wonder what he's like when he's not being all professional.

"I believe Lara has tried to bankrupt me again on one of her little spa sessions." He laughed and winked at me, "the last client she brought here ended up trying everything and I mean everything...cost me a fucking fortune I can tell you. What someone would want with a salt rub I don't know; for me salt is for fries and slammers you know what I mean?"

I nodded a little guiltily, thinking back to all the treatments Lara had insisted I take earlier in the afternoon.

"Anyway, did you have a good time?"

I nodded, a little sheepishly. I hadn't, but I can't really tell him that can I? Not seeing as he's apparently just paid for it all. At my nod Cook just burst into laughter again.

"Oh Naomi, I hope you're a better soldier than you are a liar; but I know what you mean. I hate this place as well. Not something I'm used to either, all this pampering. If it wasn't for the fact that I have to play the big businessman and..."

He left this hanging, as the waiter came back with our drinks; pausing in mid sentence as if he was telling me a big secret that he didn't want anyone else to hear. After the waiter had gone he tipped his glass to me and took a sip, before sitting back in the deep, plush leather chair.

"So, Naomi Easter Moonbeam Campbell," he recited as if he had just started a tape playing in his head. "Twenty six years old, born in Bristol, grew up in Cheltenham before moving to London. Joined the Royal Military Police on your eighteenth birthday not long after the loss of your mother to..."

"Twenty five," I interrupted, anxious not to think about her death.

"I'm sorry?" He asked blinking back at me.

"I'm only twenty five, or I was last time I looked anyway."

"You should look a bit harder then Naomi, your twenty sixth birthday was 13 days ago; though I suppose you would have had other priorities at the time other than celebrating."

I hadn't realised, or at least I'd lost track of the date. I put it down to the isolation of being on the streets; I had been concentrating on days not dates. When it all comes down to it I'm not even sure I could tell you what fucking month it is. Not without checking anyway, I think it's still April, but I'm not sure.

But I'd missed my birthday in all this shit, I'd even missed the anniversary of mums death. No matter where I was in the world, or what I was doing at the time I'd lit a candle in her memory on that date. I can't believe I was so fucked up I missed it, that just doesn't happen...not to me anyway.

Making a silent promise to make amends to my mother's memory, I simply nodded in acknowledgement of his comment and he continued with his potted history of my life to date.

"You served one acclimatisation tour in Germany after basic training and were selected to join the Close Protection Unit on your first application, with a recommendation from your company commander no less. One tour in Iraq with multiple commendations on your record, identified for fast track promotion. You finished that tour, then you were transferred to a new unit and shipped to Afghanistan. How did you deal with that Naomi, two combat tours back to back?"

I shrugged, "It's what we were trained to do Mr Cook, to be honest it was better than twiddling my thumbs or dealing with drunken soldiers on a night out in Berlin calling me 'babe' and asking if the handcuffs meant they were getting lucky."

They never did got lucky though, well apart from that one time with the exceedingly drunk and flirty QARANC nurse who'd caught my eye...

"James," Cook said, pulling me from my memory, "please it's James or my friends call me Cookie, not Mr Cook."

"I'm sure they do Mr Cook, but as we've only just met, and you're my potential employer, I'd be more comfortable with Mr Cook if you don't mind."

He grinned at my comment and sized me up again. It was starting to bug me a little; did he think he was some kind of mind reader or something?

"So you had three combat tours and a twelve month tour shepherding visitors to the UK, that's a bit of a change from a combat security role, any reason for it?"

Yeah there was, but there's no point in discussing her on a job interview.

"Felt like a break from getting shot at and having to protect a load of ungrateful American big-wigs. That and the fact I'd had to do my Sergeants exams and all the extra training that goes with that."

"So, it was nothing to do with Amy Jovanovich then?"

He looked at me with his very best 'gotcha' face, as if he'd got one past me, pleased that he knew something I didn't want him to know. Like Amy and I were ever a secret; a mistake perhaps, but never a secret.

"Not really," I replied calmly, even though I was seething inside at his lack of manners. "I did enjoy our time together though; it made a nice change to be sleeping with something other than five sweaty squaddies in a tent that smelt like something had died in it. At least Amy knew what a deodorant was for."

'_Screw you Cook, see how you like those apples...you can't make me feel ashamed for what I am.'_

He nodded, caught the look in my eyes and moved on.

We spent about an hour discussing my different operations, well he did. I answered the questions I thought I would be allowed to and politely deferred from answering the others.

"I can't tell you that," I'd replied to one of his more sensitive questions. He'd looked at me with surprise.

"Well as this _is_ an interview Naomi I think you should at least try." His southern drawl was seriously beginning to get on my nerves now. The whole southern gentleman act was going a bit far, and an act I'm sure it was. The sort of thing he trawled out to impress people, well I wasn't impressed, not with the accent and not with the questions; I stood up from my chair, straightened my dress and held out my hand.

"Well thank you for your time Mr Cook. I'm sorry, but if you're going to insist on asking me questions that are operationally sensitive to the British Army then I'm afraid you and I are finished talking. I signed up to the Official Secrets Act, and I for one take it seriously."

I was half way to leaving when he called me back, "Sit down please Sergeant Campbell, I promise to behave."

The act had been dropped, the accent still there, but the persona had faltered, only for a second but faltered none the less.

"I just wanted to see if you'd talk to me, a bit of a test if you like," he continued apologetically. "Believe me I take security as seriously as you do, 'walls have ears' and all that. Shame some other people don't think the same way."

Amen to that, someone somewhere managed to get hold of my service record and feed it to James Cook, or at least to someone in his company. That was the only explanation for the amount of detailed knowledge he had on me. Carefully I sat back down and looked at him as he lounged in his seat. Then with a start, he sat forward and looked me right in the eyes.

"Look Naomi, I won't beat about the bush. JJ has told me all about you, in fact he's told me about you long before he chanced upon you the other night. I'll be honest and say I've actually tried to contact you a couple of times recently. I guess I now know why you never got back in touch."

'_Interesting_.' I inclined my head politely and waited for him to continue.

"You know how rare it is to have a female operative with your skills? I have clients lining up that I can't service because they want close protection services but they don't want a man following them around. I have been trying to track you down since I heard you had been shipped back from Afghanistan. I need a female operative and JJ tells me you'd be perfect."

"There are lots of skilled women out there that could do that kind of job." I protested wondering why he's trying to butter me up. After all, this is an interview; I'm supposed to be convincing him I'm good enough for his fucking job not the other way around.

"Yeah, that's probably true. But I only pick the best babe and you, from what I have heard, are one of the best."

He paused, letting the flattering words sink in before delivering his first major blow of our little contest.

"Well you were until Gereshk anyway. Was that the _first_ package you've lost?"

I don't acknowledge the shot; I just sit back, my heart pounding in my chest, and answer the man as if nothing had happened.

"It was." I replied as coolly as my training allowed. "He was the first one I lost in nearly five years and three and a bit active tours. Brass thought it was a planned ambush and they had heavy firepower waiting for us that they don't usually carry. It was only a bit of bad luck that we lost the package; he got hit by a four foot shrapnel shard from a grenade round that hit the engine bay. Killed him and the boy that was covering him; it was a shame really he was a good soldier, he had a lot of potential."

"Just bad luck then Naomi, that's _all_ it was?"

He just sat there and smirked at me, he fucking smirked at me as if the loss of my mates meant fuck all, the unspoken questioning of our plan and our execution of that plan hovering in the air between us. I could feel the bitterness and anger that had been building within me rise towards the surface. I tried to clamp it down, I was desperate for a job after all; but my inner bitch took over and I glared at his stupid fucking face and let rip.

"Bad luck, yes; probably nothing more than bad fucking luck. We lost a lot of good people that day Mr Cook. I nearly lost my life at the same time. We killed a fuck load of rags though; left a lot of fucking Taliban lying in the sand did my guys. We were outnumbered and outgunned and we fucking kicked ass. It was just bad fucking luck in the end that did us."

'_Fuck you Cook, don't you dare imply that I did a bad job.'_

"Woah, Naomi, chill ok?" He answered, suddenly apologetic, "I was only asking what had happened. Professional interest you know? We have a job out there with your VIP's successor and I was wondering what we could expect."

I know he's lying, or at least not telling me the whole truth. I know exactly why he behaved like that and I hate him for it; but I also remember I'm supposed to be nice to the guy and manage to stammer out an apology. Even though I know he was pushing my buttons to see how I'd respond. He puts on a nice face to the world, but I wouldn't trust James Cook as far as I could throw him.

I stared at him unblinkingly, waiting for him to make the next move. If he got it wrong I was walking away. I'd rather work as a whore than work for someone that didn't give a shit about people.

"It's ok kid, I've lost people too, I understand what you're going through. I read your after action report anyway; you got hit pretty hard by all accounts. We're talking fifty or so Taliban armed with RPG's, heavy machine guns the works. That's not a normal ambush even by their standards. Not many of them walked away thanks to you guys and the Apache's. From what I read, you're lucky to be alive."

I'm staggered; for a civilian, no matter how well connected, to get a copy of an after action report barely months after it was filed is pretty unusual. James Cook had some pretty serious contacts, or some pretty knowledgeable sources...or both.

Thankfully, from that moment on the sensitive subjects were dropped and as we chatted, seemingly aimlessly, about my experiences, I knew he was feeling me out. He probably wanted to make sure that I wasn't a basket case. Plenty of people that had been hit like that were never the same again and I'm sure my recent situation had worried him. Eventually he downed the rest of his drink and stood up.

"I like you Naomi; you're my kind of soldier, you've got skill, you've got respect, you've got integrity and you've got intelligence. I think we could work well together; I think you'll be good for my company, a real asset. But..."

I held my breath at that 'but', knowing deep down that I'd fucked it up; knowing my little tantrum in the middle of our interview had put him off and it was back to the streets again.

"_But..._before I even think about offering you a contract I'd like you to do a trial run with one of my clients. Call it an occupational competence assessment if you like. Be at the office at 08:30 tomorrow. I'm sure JJ will give you a lift. I'll have some kit ready for you when you get there; other than that you just come as you are."

I stood up and shook his hand, "Until tomorrow then Blondie, you have a good evening y'hear." He gave me a wink and a seriously cheeky grin and strode away.

I sat back down in the chair, breathed out a sigh of relief and thought about the last hour. Somehow I'd managed to pull it off, despite my temper. All I had to do now was prove myself; well that I was used to. More than used to in fact, every day in Iraq and Afghanistan you were asked to prove yourself, and every day you survived was the proof that you were good enough.

Still it was a fucking relief to have got this far. I was just wondering how I was supposed to find Lara in this place when one of the staff brought over a large drink.

"Excuse me Miss Campbell, Mr Cook asked me to tell you that he never likes drinking alone and would you accept this as a celebratory drink? He told me to tell you that it was his treat and he was sure it would be something you'd like."

I thanked her and took a sip, nodding my appreciation as she left smiling. It was a plain vodka and lemonade with a lime twist; my drink of choice in the old days. It was a drink that Amy had got me into when she wasn't feeding me mohitos and I'd drunk it ever since. Well I had drunk it until I'd plummeted down to the depths of consuming my alcohol cheap, neat and straight from the bottle.

I shook my head at the thought of it. Fuck me, just how much did this guy know about me?

.

.

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**A/N-** Next stop, Naomi gets to work with one of Cook's clients; I wonder who that will be?

[Walks off whistling]


	6. First Day Nerves

**Close Protection**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt and a severe lack of talent. Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which makes me very upset)

**Authors Note **– Early mornings with nothing to do make me happy, especially when I can finish working on this story. Here's chapter six for your reading pleasure (-:

**Chapter Six – First Day Nerves**

I spent the night in a proper bed for the first time in, well fucking ages actually, Army bunks don't really count as real beds and neither do the torture devices they had in the hospitals I ended up staying in. This bed was warm, dry comfortable and not covered in cardboard and pigeon shit, in short it was fucking fantastic and I woke up feeling rested yet anxious about the day's events.

I had the nightmare again last night; more faces appeared in that rocky hole, more of the people I've lost along the way. At least this time I didn't wake up screaming. I'm sure JJ and Lara wouldn't have appreciated me waking up little Albert in the middle of the night; it took the little bastard hours to go to sleep as it was.

I really don't have any idea what I'm getting myself into today, all I know is that JJ will take me to the office and get me set up then I'll presumably get briefed. I'm not used to doing things in this ad-hoc a manner but it's a job, and I really could do with nailing this.

o+o+o

We reach the smart office in the heart of the city pretty quickly considering the time and the rush hour traffic; JJ's massive car getting us there in style and comfort. As I look at the glass and steel I can't help but wonder just how much the rent is on a place like this. Even if they've only got a small office, this place must cost a bloody fortune to occupy, it's prime real estate and it's surrounded by big, international names. I'm absolutely staggered when JJ shows me what he tells me is only their European and Middle East headquarters. It's practically an entire fucking floor, and as well as a receptionist there's a whole support team based here as well. It is, without a doubt, one hell of an operation James Cook is running here.

JJ shows me around with the air of a proud parent. I hadn't realised it but he is pretty senior in the operation and is based out of here, practically set it up in fact. I'm introduced to people throughout the office, people who strangely seem to know exactly who I am. I guess that one or two of them probably did some of the digging into my past. Idly I wondered which one was clever enough to find out what my favourite drink is.

Finally I'm shown into the, very impressive, boardroom where I'm faced once again with James Cook. He's sat lounging at the end of the table yet stood up as I walked into the room.

"Welcome to Close Protection Naomi, what do you think of our little operation?"

"Very impressive, I now know you're not all-seeing, just very well informed. It's a slick operation, probably better than anything I've worked with."

"Yeah, military intelligence, the classic oxymoron," he joked. "Today we have a simple little milk-run for you kid. See if you can handle the difficult customers rather than the difficult operations."

I stiffened slightly at his description before forcing myself to relax. The last time someone sent my unit on a milk-run I lost my best friend. A little voice in the back of my head told me he knew that, probably had read my psych-profile after Whitey's shooting. He probably used the words deliberately to throw me off guard.

'_Get your head in the game Naomi; don't let him mess you up.'_

I shook the doubts from my mind and began to pay attention to what he was saying. I had to understand the brief if I was going to succeed in this part of the interview.

"We've got a minor league starlet who's demanding protection from a stalker. She's received numerous threats from this joker and the police won't take it seriously. Your job for the day will be to keep her safe from harm whilst she goes shopping without ruining any publicity that she might get along the way. You are to be discrete and invisible if possible." He threw a file across at me. Professionally I glanced through it reading everything about the girl, her lifestyle and the threat itself.

"Can I do this my way or is there some kind of corporate style you want me to adopt."

He smiled back at me, "Naomi this is your operation. You can handle it any way you want."

I smiled back, "Then I might need some expenses. If I can convince the package that I have the right plan that is."

o+o+o

A couple of hours later and I'm dressed very much like a tart, tottering along on high heels next to a tall brunette who is very much the worse for drink. I'd managed to convince Miss Stonem, or Effy as I was expected to call her in public, that if I was going to be truly invisible then I should dress and act as her friend whilst she was out and about.

"I like her James," she'd said to my plan, "that's original. No-one will suspect a thing and my reputation will be safe. Though how you will be able to protect me if you're drinking with me I don't know."

I roll my eyes and bite my tongue; seriously the girl can't be _that_ thick.

"I'll be drinking water Miss Stonem; I'll just act drunk."

In fact I don't have to act anything, the sky rise platforms that she's insisted are "the height of fashion babe" are making me pretty unsteady on my feet as it is. I'd rather have gone for the whole combat boot look that is also quite fashionable at the moment but she's having none of it.

"Oh no darling," she's exclaimed, "like they would let you into the Ivy wearing those!"

So here I am trawling around after this brainless bimbo trying desperately to stand up, act drunk and watch everything that's going on around me. We've had a couple of run ins with the paparazzi through the morning and I've always managed to get myself out of camera shot as soon as we've seen them and she's started posing. Invisible and alert, that's me. I'm actually beginning to enjoy myself. I'm doing a job I was trained to do, albeit in a slightly different way. It does have its perks though. Miss Stonem does have a really nice arse, which my job more of less means I'm obliged to watch; but most importantly no fucker is shooting at me, at least yet/

The old instincts are there though; I've seen one or two threats along the way today; one is a young guy in his late twenties, one is in his late thirties. They were desperately trying to look as if they weren't together, but I knew they were. I gave up on them after we lost them at lunch. I didn't see them for the rest of the afternoon.

What I did spot, however, was a photographer that appeared as we were walking down Carnaby Street. I've seen him before on our little shopping trip, in fact I've seen him five times in the last half hour and he's been a photographer, a tourist and once a shopper. He's changed bags and parts of his clothes along the way too.

Unfortunately he can't change the trousers or shoes he's wearing or his gait as he walked. That's what gave him away.

"Effy babe," I say in my best brainless voice, "can't we stop for a second; my feet are just killing me."

I duck down a side street where it's a bit quieter and kick off the stupid fucking shoes. "Listen," I whispered to her, my voice now all business, "get yourself into that doorway and stay there. If anything goes wrong you're to run through to that street there, get into the first shop you come across and scream the place down ok?"

She nodded, her eyes wide, "It'll be fine ok? It's just a precaution. We'll be fine."

I watched her head for the doorway and hid myself behind the cover of a large waste skip towards the front of the alley, pulling some boxes over me to camouflage myself. Sure enough, seconds later the dark haired man came sauntering down the street. He saw Effy in the doorway and his eyes lit up. Slowly he reached into the paper shopping bag he was carrying and brought out a large kitchen knife. He walked towards her position waving the knife menacingly.

"I've been waiting to get you alone my sweet. Your friend run off has she? Well that's nice. Just you and me and...ooof."

He didn't get to say another word, I slipped out from behind the dumpster as he walked past me and rabbit punched him. It was one simple punch and I didn't even hit him that hard but he's hit the floor like a sack of shit. I kicked him once on the inside of the knee, no reaction, he's definitely out cold. It's an old trick playing possum, but no conscious person has ever managed to ride out a kick to the kneecap without screaming; it hurts like an absolute bastard. Convinced the threat from this guy was over I carefully kicked the knife away from his hand. As my bare foot touched it I knew something was wrong, the fucking thing was plastic.

"Tony!" came a shout from the doorway and I'm forced to tackle the package as she ran towards her stalker.

"You know this guy?" I asked as I held her back.

"He's my fucking brother Campbell you twat," she shouted pushing me away and leaning over the crumpled figure. "Why the fuck did you hit him like that? It was only a fucking test. You've fucking killed him you fucking bitch."

A _test?_ What the fuck did she mean? The evidence Cook had given me looked real enough, signed police statements and everything.

Then it happened, and as usual like the ambush in Gereshk, it happened really fast. Again, it was only instinct that told me something was wrong, that and the fact that Effy's eyes had just widened in horror. I threw myself sideways and rode the blow that I knew was coming.

I felt the kick scrape my back as I rolled back to my feet and looked at the two men that had followed us into the alleyway. It was the two I'd spotted earlier and I cursed Miss Stonem for distracting me from my job with her recognition of our assailant.

"Well hello ladies, fancy a good time?" one of them sneered. "Well we do, and we think you two whores are the ones to provide it." The older one of the two looked straight at Miss Stonem with unconcealed lust before speaking again, his voice low and menacing.

"We've been watching you for a long time Missy; it's so nice of you to invite a friend to our little party though. The blonde will make it go with _such_ a swing."

The older one made a lunge for me as his friend grabbed Effy and wrestled her to the ground. It was probably their third mistake of the day, their first was letting me see them, the second walking into this street, and their third mistake was laying hands on the package and making me angry. Despite being a brainless twat Miss Stonem was quite nice and had treated me with respect, and that's a whole lot more than the arrogant fuckers I'd protected in the Army had done.

Time seemed to move in slow motion, as it so often does when the red flag goes down and the adrenaline starts flooding through your body. As my target lunged clumsily to tackle me I stepped neatly to the side and left my knee carefully positioned to catch him. It worked better than I could have hoped, my kneecap hitting him plumb on the jaw, leaving him dazed and confused. It was all over in seconds as a quick combination of kicks and punches left him a bloody mess on the floor.

Rule number one, when there are multiple assailants attacking you, you put the first one down as quickly as possible, and you make damn sure he doesn't get up again. So I put one last kick into his head before I went to help Miss Stonem; curling my toes back so I didn't break them as I caught him full on the temple and with a groan he stopped moving.

One down, one to go.

As I ran over to the struggling mess of bodies on the floor the young guy's head suddenly popped up, either as he heard me running, or his instincts told him danger was on its way. I took my opportunity as swiftly as it had arrived lashing out with my right foot as if I was taking a penalty; planting my left foot firmly onto the ground and putting the 'laces' of my right foot firmly through the 'ball' and I felt, with some satisfaction, his nose break under the blow.

As he flew backwards I stepped between him and Miss Stonem, my breathing heavy but even from the sudden exertion. He looked at me once and began scrabbling backwards on his elbows before scrambling to his feet and turning to run.

As he fled the scene I knelt to check on the package, she was now sat on the floor, arms wrapped protectively around her knees. Her dress was ruined, ripped and torn and there were tears flooding down her face. I know I should have comforted her, but I just knelt next to her helplessly, I can't deal with emotional women, I guess that's always been a problem of mine. The best I could do was take off the jacket I was wearing and wrap it round her shoulders. She pulled it tightly around herself to protect what was left of her modesty.

Suddenly I hear the sound of footsteps and clapping from behind me. I span around to see James Cook, walking over to the body of the photographer that's starting to show signs of recovery, and he's the one applauding me.

"Innovative Blondie, that was definitely innovative. I'm not sure Tony here will agree but I'm impressed. Passed the test with flying colours. Congratulations."

"A test," I spat, "a fucking test? Someone could have got seriously hurt here Mr Cook. I take it that guy _isn't_ one of yours."

He looked across at the prone figure and frowned as he saw the body and the state of the package. "No," he replied softly, "he's not and I missed him. _Shit!_ I came down from up there as soon as you'd dealt with Tony here. I never even saw him, what the fuck happened?"

His voice is filled with concern as he looked over at Miss Stonem who's managed to wrap her arms around me.

"Nothing I couldn't handle Mr Cook, but I think _that_ might be your stalker, I couldn't stop his mate from leaving though."

"There were _two_ of them?" he asked his eyes never leaving Miss Stonem's. She answered for him with a nod.

"There were two of them James, they came at us after she killed Tony."

"Tony's not dead sweet cheeks; see he's coming round now. Naomi just hit him a bit hard that's all. Though I wasn't expecting him to be a one shot pussy like that, I have to admit."

I'm kind of stunned as I watch Cook help the mysterious, and now recovering, Tony from the floor. I'm also stunned by the change in the package. She's not quite as brainless as she's been making out, or indeed as drunk.

"How's the head Tone?" Cook asked the stalker as he got to his feet.

"Tender Cookie, tender. Where the fuck did you find this girl?"

"Afghanistan."

He nodded gingerly, "That explains the bad attitude then." He held out his hand, "Tony Stonem, I'm Effy's brother. James asked me to do him a favour today to test out one of his new staff. What gave me away?"

I stared at him as if he'd grown another head. "Your shoes, pretty distinctive don't you think?"

They all looked down at the bright red pumps he was wearing and Cook burst out laughing. "Nice one Blondie, that's what I want from my people, smarts. It's not all about the brawn; it's about the smarts, that's what I keep telling them."

"She's not too shabby with the brawn either Cookie, that was one hell of a hit Miss Campbell."

I'm still kind of confused by all this, obviously this was a set up and there was no threat. These two are related but that's as much as I understand.

"Right," Cook said taking control of the situation, "let's get the police here to deal with _that_ arsehole and then I suggest we head back to the office? Naomi, I'll explain everything on the way."

o+o+o

After an hour of questions, statements and painfully slow "police procedures," Cook's driven us back to the City high rise in his car, a rather flash BMW M5 convertible, it's not really my taste; all style and fuck all comfort but he seems to be quite proud of it telling me all about its features. One thing I do know is that it's quick, seriously quick, despite the fact that we're doing at best 15mph around London's busy streets.

As we've crawled through the traffic he's been explaining the strangely convoluted relationship that exists around me. Effy Stonem actually is a pretty well known singer, come presenter come everything really. The classic "actress, singer, dancer, model" and she's anything but a vapid, brainless bimbo. She's also been dating Cook since he did a close protection job on her about two years ago.

"We just hit it off didn't we Eff? Got chatting and took it from there."

She'd smiled sweetly at him from the back of the car, where she was tending her brother, and nodded before continuing to glare at me.

I'm not convinced she'll forgive me for laying out her brother like I did. Well how the hell was I supposed to know it was a fucking test? She's lucky, if I'd have had my old military issue SIG I wouldn't have taken any chances at all. I'd have dropped him where he stood; two rounds in the ten ring and the problem of an armed assailant is usually solved. Thankfully the carrying of firearms in the UK is strictly prohibited, especially pistols; so Tony Stonem, whom I now know to be Cook's personal assistant, lived to 'stalk' another day.

o+o+o

Back at the office news seemed to have spread fast and I'm greeted with warm applause and congratulations as I walk in with Cook and the Stonems.

"Everyone I'd like you to meet the newest member of Close Protection, Miss Naomi Campbell. I know she'll be a valuable asset to our company."

Again with the applause and I find myself blushing at the unwanted attention. Sensing my unease Cook drags me off into his office as Effy excuses herself and heads for the bathrooms to "tidy herself up" her dress already replaced by Cook in one of the shops near the scene.

"I guessed you would be joining us Blondie…I guessed right didn't I? You've definitely got the skills we need, dealing with three assailants, with no weapon and no backup; that's seriously impressive stuff."

He paused and looked into my face. Yes I was pissed off at him; yes I was pissed off that he would even _dream_ of using his girlfriend as bait in a trap, even if it was supposed to be a carefully planned test. He must have read the displeasure in my eyes, because he continued his little speech in a slightly less casual manner.

"Well if there's any doubts here's a copy of your contract, I'll need you to read it and sign it."

He handed me a piece of paper with a figure at the top. It was about twice what I'd earned as a CPU officer, even with the combat bonus payments I'd earned on top of my basic salary. It was a big salary, one that I just couldn't turn down; even if it wasn't a question of take the job or go back to the streets.

"It may look like a lot of money Campbell, but I swear you'll earn every penny of it. This isn't a nine to five operation and I expect the best from the best. There are perks though, especially for you in the role I have selected for you. In the envelope you'll find the keys to your new car, your phone, the keys to an apartment I'm lending you whilst you get yourself on your feet, your company credit card and some cash for personal expenses in the meantime...you can call that a corporate loan against salary if it makes you feel any better."

_Jesus, he _is_ good, I'd just been about to refuse it.'_

"Rules are simple Naomi; the flat is one we use for _all_ employees that are transferring in from other locations so it's a stop gap, nothing more. You'll need to find yourself something within the next two months or so. It's rent free for that period. After that, if you still need it and it's not required for someone else, well we'll come to some arrangement.

The company car is all expensed so use that credit card for your fuel and anything else you need. Any clothes you need, suits etc put on the card as well, Lara may have mentioned that I pay for corporate work wear, get good quality stuff as well. With my clients we want to look the best we can be, if you're not sure what to get take Lara; I'm sure JJ won't mind. Frankly Naomi those posh girls were born to shop, but please be sensible. Don't go bankrupting me on your first day."

He gave me a cheeky wink at that one, as if it was the funniest thing in the world, before continuing.

"If you need any personal items you can put them on the card as well seeing as your situation is somewhat, unusual. I'll sign them off no problems and I tell you what. I'll give you the standard £5K golden handshake for starting, that's what all my best people get and I know you're going to be one of my best people. Get yourself whatever you need with that. After that Naomi you're on your own."

I stammered out my thanks, I'd have been happy with just the fucking job.

"Don't mention it Blondie, now here's your first real assignment. I've been pestered by this guy for the last six months to find him a Close Protection agent that he'll trust. Your meeting is at 11am tomorrow in Bath. I suggest you get sorted and read that file. Don't let me down or this might well be the shortest job you've ever had."

He smiled and shook my hand, dismissing me.

o+o+o

Leaving Mr Cook's office I went outside to find JJ stood waiting for me.

"Congratulations Naomi, well done. Welcome aboard. I'm going to show you to your car and then take you over to the apartment and get you settled in."

I nod dumbly, still a little shellshocked, as I'm led downstairs into the underground car park.

"This is yours. Just remember the bay number you've been assigned. I'm forever getting my numbers mixed up...there are just too many to remember, even for me."

I'm not listening; I'm just staring at the almost brand new, dark blue BMW X3 that's parked in front of me.

"It's the petrol engine, but don't worry we've had all our vehicles converted to dual fuel for environmental purposes. It's got all the trimmings and it's really a very nice car. It's not the top of the range model but it's got a decent stereo that will sync with your iPhone for calls and of course music and it's got built in satellite-navigation and cruise control, oh and of course air conditioning. It also has multiple airbags for your safety and that of your passengers, but obviously I hope that you never have to use that particular feature because that would be bad."

He's babbling now, he'd done that last night over dinner; getting 'locked on' Lara had called it. It was strange; I'd never seen him do it before, even when we were under fire in Basra. I'd put it down to a case of PTSD; I never asked about it though. 'don't ask, don't tell' meant a totally different thing to those of us that had survived the trenches.

"It's a nice car," he'd repeated, pulling himself together. Damn, he must think I don't like it. Nothing could be further from the truth.

"It's fine JJ. It's more than fine; remember I've been getting everywhere by foot for the last couple of months. Anything's going to be better than those trashed Vans we binned last night. You could have given me a bike or a bus pass and I'd have been ecstatic. I'm glad I met you that night JJ, you've pretty much saved my life."

"Well you saved mine Naomi, several times in fact. I owe you a lot, we both do. I'm happy to be paying some of that debt back."

I looked at the man that had performed this miracle and decided that I liked him, I don't have friends, but I can at least be friendly. I put out my hand to him and waited for him to take it.

"We're more than even Lieutenant, trust me. Now are we going to get moving because I need to go shopping with your wife. I've got a big meeting tomorrow apparently and I need to get a change of clothes or two."

"Ah yes," he said knowingly, "This is what I recommended you for, I'm so pleased you passed James' test. I knew you'd be perfect for the role."

He took a deep breath and released it slowly...strange.

"So yes, you have a big meeting tomorrow with Robert Fitch, he's the head of Fitch Industries. They're quite a large manufacturing corporation with sites around the world. He's been receiving death threats from extremist groups in Pakistan because of his links to manufacturing sites and the government in India.

You'll need to be at your best tomorrow Naomi; we're really counting on getting this contract because Fitch Industries could put a lot of extra work our way."

"Don't worry JJ," I replied more confidently than I felt, "I'm sure Papa Fitch and I will get along like a house on fire."

.

.

.

**A/N-** Aw what, you were expecting Emily...really? Oops, sorry about that. Really do need to watch that misdirection thing I do (-:

HardestHearts; teasing you...would I do that? Not a chance; her name is up there in 'lights', but the word was, I believe, eventually (-;


	7. Meeting Family Fitch

**Close Protection**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt and a severe lack of talent. Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which makes me very upset)

**Authors Note **– So I'm back, well you didn't think I'd stay away did you? Anyway, patience boys and girls, patience, nearly there (-:

**Chapter 7 – Meeting Family Fitch**

My first day as a Close Protection employee had been, well, eventful to say the least. I'd gone from a washed up, fucked up ex-squaddie to respectable member of society, with a platinum company credit card and a very nice car, in what seemed like a matter of hours; and amazingly all I'd had to do was punch someone's lights out to do it.

Oh, and the little matter of rescuing Effy Stonem from James Cook's monumental fuck up. I think that might have helped.

On the whole though it was a better experience than an assessment day, or having to do one of those fucking NVQ's the careers advisor had told me were oh so necessary to land a decent job. Well now I had a decent job, and one I was well trained for. Something told me that this role would be challenging and possibly a little dangerous. Basically it was going to be fun!

JJ had called Lara whilst he showed me how to get to the flat and I'd made arrangements to pick her up at their home to go shopping. I needed a crap load of clothes, make-up and other essentials and I had no clue what to get. You don't have to look smart and presentable in a combat zone, how you should look in uniform, or dress uniform is pretty much taught to you and I had no idea what was acceptable in the "real" world of business; I doubted my usual off duty attire of jeans, shorts, T-Shirts and Vans would be suitable for a business meeting, nor would combat fatigues and body armour.

I realised that I'd been as good as 'bottle fed' by Lara and the salon staff for my first meeting; I'd been like a child having to be dressed and tarted up and the like. So, realising I was stuck like a rabbit in headlights I'd braved up, done the scary thing and asked for help. Fortunately for me, Lara was only too happy to oblige. Personally I'd found the 'extreme makeover Lara style' a little over the top, so I was desperately hoping she would slow down, listen to me, and help me find my own style as we shopped.

We'd spent hours in the huge Westfield shopping centre, trawling around shop after shop. My new credit card had been sadly abused, but I'd tried to keep her purchases reasonable and hadn't gone anywhere near the 5K golden handshake I'd been given. Most of the things I'd bought I wouldn't be paying for anyway; Lara had made it clear that all Close Protection's employees got their work-wear paid for and Lara's definition of work wear was pretty loose. She'd lectured me for ages, repeatedly telling me JJ would agree if he knew what was good for him, whenever I protested. By the end of the trip I had pretty much everything I needed to get me started and I'd barely touched my 'own' money.

My one success for the evening, the one thing that made me feel happy was convincing Lara and JJ to let me take them for a meal; it seemed only fair after all their help. We'd spent a nice couple of hours in their favourite curry house, eating the traditional squaddies menu that consisted of far too many poppadoms, far too many chapatis and far too much of the hottest curry on the menu. Well JJ and I had, Lara simply sat and smiled, chatted occasionally and ate very little. To be honest she spent more time on the phone to the babysitter than she did talking to us but I guess I couldn't blame her for that.

"Nervous first time parent" JJ has said when she'd excused herself for the sixth time to make a call, "We'll have to call it a night in a bit, besides I'm sure you've got some unpacking to do and some files to read."

I looked at my watch, not too late, only half eight, but he was right. I had shopping to sort out and some reading to do. I also needed to familiarise myself with the flat, it wasn't much but it was, for the time being, home. It had been a good night, the best night I'd had in a long, long time; the only thing that was missing from every other night out like this I'd had before Gereshk was the booze and I wasn't missing that in the slightest.

After I paid the bill, and we walked back to the parked cars, we'd said our farewells. After I'd got a hug from Lara and a handshake and a 'good luck for the morning' from JJ I headed back to the Beemer and sat in the luxurious leather seat. I spent a happy moment considering the fact that, if I fell asleep right now, it would be the second most comfortable place I'd slept all year. I have to admit meeting JJ on that street that night had been a serious result; I shudder to think what might have happened to me if I hadn't bothered to return his call when I did.

Sitting back and letting the cool leather envelop my body I gave a quick prayer of thanks to whomever it was that had been watching over me and punched the destination 'home' into the cars sat-nav. I worked my way towards Hammersmith and then out towards Richmond, ironically passing my old 'home' on the way. As I passed under the A4 I could see my old boxes, I could also see a figure sleeping in them. Well, they could have them and good luck; I was well out of that situation.

I pressed on, guided by the relentless voice of the 'bird in the box' as I'd decided to call her, and ended up at the place that Close Protection had allowed me to stay in. The place was stunning and I loved it. Well actually, the flat itself was nothing special just a plain one bedroom apartment; it had a small kitchen diner tagged onto the end of the living area and a pokey en-suite bathroom with just a shower to compliment the main bathroom with a tub. But the complex itself had everything the busy executive would want in their London pied-à-terre, before they fucked off to their country home for the weekend. It came equipped with secure parking, 24 hour security all mod cons and even a gym tagged on. Best of all the flats had access to their own small pool; and it was here I found myself at 23:20hrs when really I should have been in bed.

Whilst we were shopping I'd treated myself to one serious luxury, something I'd wanted for ages but couldn't justify spending my salary on, a Speedo Aquablade swimsuit. Ninety quid later I felt like a million dollars and as I slipped it on for the first time it made me feel good. The shorts hid the scar where the bullet that nearly killed me had hit and the suit hugged me in all the right places. _"Guaranteed to make you quicker in the pool,"_ the assistant had said, I didn't give a shit, it was now mine and I felt fucking great wearing it; that was all that mattered. For the first time in my life I'd spent some money on me for no other reason than I felt like it. I'd never done anything like that before, when you had responsibilities like I had, well you just don't do that kind of thing.

As I dived into the pool and began to swim my lengths I had the time to reflect on the day. This is one of the reasons I love swimming, it's you, the pool and nothing else. If you want to you can blank out everything else around you and every time I hit the water that's exactly what I did.

I'd grown up practically in public, far too many people living in our house for one reason or another throughout my youth, and I'd rarely had any peace. I'd discovered swimming early on when we lived in Cheltenham, one of the advantages of being at a posh school I guess, was having swimming lessons. It had literally changed my life.

I wasn't a small child when I was younger, I wasn't obese but I did have a fair chunk of puppy fat that I hadn't burnt off; my mother's odd lifestyle didn't really give me anything that I could do to achieve that goal. I didn't do parks or playing or friends, I was the weird girl that everyone was told to avoid by their mothers, I was the one whose mother was a freak. As a result of this I was insular, bookish and I spent a lot of time at home trying to be alone. I didn't go riding like the posh kids, or cycling like the rest. I had no interest in playing football or doing gymkhana's or indeed any of the things other kids seemed to do; even if I was invited, which I wasn't. To be frank I got fuck all exercise before I learnt to swim in Middle School; and after that if I wasn't at school, or at home, I was in the pool or in the gym getting myself stronger so I could swim faster, better and longer than ever before.

Finally I'd found something that I loved doing, finally I found somewhere that I could be by myself in groups of people. For me, swimming was heaven. It gave me fitness, it gave me a body that didn't get me jeered at and it gave me peace and quiet at a time when I'd really, really needed it. Swimming was a competition where I was the only competitor and both the winner and the loser. Every time I hit the water I pushed myself to be better than the last time, every time I hit the gym I did the same. I loved it and I didn't need anyone else to do it.

So as I swam length after length, powering through the water with the smooth grace that was starting to return to me; I managed to reconnect with the silence of my head, the place where I could think, finally just think. I hadn't been able to do that for far too long and I savoured the opportunity to reflect.

If you have a finite amount of luck in your lifetime then I'd probably used all of mine up by now. Surviving an IED blast in Basra, the ambush in Gereshk and now getting off the streets and into a job. It really is like someone somewhere is watching over me.

I hope it is; I've buried enough friends, someone must be up there keeping me safe.

I wondered if perhaps it was mum; we'd never been close until the latter years of her life. We'd had the traditional mother daughter reconciliation when I was sixteen, when I grew up enough to realise that being a moody fuck and ignoring her 24/7 wasn't very mature. We didn't have much time after that. Six months later she told me she had been diagnosed with cancer, seven months after that, and only after a long and courageous fight, she'd finally slipped away. She'd died in her hospital bed, holding my hand and smiling into my eyes. Her last words telling me it was going to be all right, that she loved me and that I was to stay strong and follow my heart.

I was pretty much broken at that point, I was only seventeen and the one person, the _only_ person in my life had gone. In the end I did what I had to do, the last thing I could do for her and then signed on the dotted line. Three weeks after the quiet funeral I was enlisted, my grief and misery lost, but not forgotten, in the efforts of basic training.

I miss her though, I miss her every day. It's her strength I draw on through the rough times; I had drawn on her strength during training and during combat; fighting through the pain and the fear, every time telling myself that _whatever_ I was going through it's _nothing_ like what mum had to suffer and she always smiled, she always had a smile for me. I wish I was half the woman she was, she was exceptional and I loved her, still love her, with all my heart.

She was the second in a long line of people to leave me and as I swam, I had the chance to think about each and every one of them as well.

The pool is cool and dark and perfect for my thoughts; as I slice through the water I feel the knots and aches of the months living under cardboard begin to ease. It's good to be exercising again; it's good to have a purpose. Performing a tuck turn at the end of the length I turn my mind back to the package, pushing away the dark thoughts. I'd dug out the file when I got home and had read it through twice before I was satisfied I'd got everything I needed out of it.

Robert James William Fitch, captain of industry; well the captain of a fairly successful arms industry anyway. According to the press reports, and the company information Fitch Industries spewed out, Robert '"Rob' Fitch was _happily_ married with three _wonderful_ children; the truth seemed more than a little different. The Fitches were most certainly _not_ happily married the file had told me, both he and his wife apparently in other relationships. Rob with his PA, Jenna with her golf pro. It was like something from a soap opera but to all intents and purposes they were the happy couple in public life. I wondered if that was for the benefit of the business or their children; perhaps it was for both.

Rob and Jenna's eldest children were two daughters, twins, born 6 minutes apart. Katherine Elizabeth and Emily Victoria. Both now worked for the family business. Katherine was in the Marketing and Public Relations side and had joined straight from school, though the file indicated that her involvement in the business was pretty cursory pretty much restricted to organising charity events and corporate fundraisers. I guessed that any kind of 'real' work would have a negative effect on her social life.

She was, very publically, married to Gareth Brace, a professional rugby player for Bath and had been for three years. They had no children as yet, despite several pregnancy rumours that had flashed through the press, I'd never heard of either of them despite the publicity, I suppose I'd been busy that day. Interestingly Katherine hadn't changed her name on getting married, opting for the Fitch-Brace moniker. I couldn't help but snort when I read that; Fitch-Brace, it sounded like something you'd use to tow a trailer.

Even more interestingly, for a cynic like me; was that Katherine, unlike so many rich married women if you could believe the papers, was totally faithful and totally in love. Even more surprisingly, apparently so was her husband. They either had the perfect fucking relationship or they were at least very, very, discrete. Their only real flaw was that Katherine liked to party and to be seen in public. She was in effect your typical WAG. The PR role must suit her down to the ground.

The youngest daughter, Emily, was the Head of Sales Development; a lofty title for one so young but there was little else to go on. The file told me that she was Oxford educated, gaining a masters degree in Classics before she left to join daddies business. Her University days were virtually a blank, none of the usual drunken student stories, no protests, nothing; and if she'd dated anyone in the five years she was there the file didn't say. It was as if she was a blank page in the dossier. Cook's team hadn't found much other than the corporate spiel. Emily Fitch was an enigma, as far as I could tell she didn't even have a parking conviction to her name. CP's research team hadn't even managed to find out what drink she liked, and they'd managed to find that out with someone as unimportant as me; though I guess they did have JJ to assist them on that one.

Interesting though, I like enigmas; it didn't hurt that she was pretty as well.

They both were in fact, very pretty, well I guess they would be, being twins; but there was something different about Emily's photograph. She wasn't trying to pose the way Katherine did in every photo in her file. In the one photograph I had of her she just stared straight at the camera with a faintest hint of a smile. Enigmatic and slightly aloof but she carried it well.

I ploughed on through the water, shaking my brain and putting the Fitch twins behind me.

Finally in their little family was James Robert Fitch, the youngest of the family, currently off at University studying business. Rumour had it that daddy wanted him to take over the family business when he retired. Rumour also had it that James was a transvestite that also went by the name of Brittney or occasionally Juanita and on one occasion, I read about in a particularly detailed little press cutting, as Madame Madeleine; singing a medley of songs, in a full Diana Ross style fishtailed sequinned dress, platforms and a huge wig no less, on stage in Blackpool. Apparently he'd gone down a storm as well, two encores and a great review.

His singing career had been cut short however, by mum and dad. According to my file they had told him in no uncertain terms how badly he was affecting the family and how they would cut him off if there was a repeat occurrence. He continued to do what he wanted to however, just slightly, and _only_ slightly, more discreetly. I'm not sure why they'd try and stop him; surely it was all about what made him happy and it sounded like he really wanted to be happy whilst he was out of their clutches. The file told me that things weren't peachy at home; his mother especially seemed to be very opposed to his lifestyle. Everything screamed of being all style over substance with her; she was all about 'what would the neighbours think'. I'd studied her photo, she looked the type.

As, reluctantly, I pulled myself out of the water after just half an hour's workout I considered the tactics for the morning's meeting. For starters I had to get up early; it is a two hour drive to Bath from here, probably nearer to three if you factor in traffic and arriving professionally early. I walked back to the apartment feeling tired but refreshed I regretted the fact that there wouldn't be enough time for another swim in the morning. Not if I plan to get a half decent night's sleep tonight.

Unfortunately for me a decent night's sleep was the last thing I got; at 05:00hrs I'm awake, and screaming, as the faces and the voices returned once again. One day soon I think I'm going to use some of that huge salary and get some treatment. Fuck knows the Army didn't help me, all I got told was "not to think about that," and passed a few sedatives to 'help calm you down.' Not to mention the ubiquitous sleeping tablets to knock me out talk about treating the symptoms and not the disease. As a support network the Army were fucking useless; I was convinced they just wanted me to complete my psych-eval so they could tick that box and get me out of the gate as fast as they could. I can't help but wonder if perhaps paying for treatment would get me a better service, help end the relentless sight of those faces.

Still, bad dreams aside I have a job to go to, so one swim, one shower and several cups of coffee later I'm awake, dressed and ready for the day. I punched the address JJ had given me for the meeting into the sat-nav and headed for the M4 and Mr Robert Fitch.

o+o+o

I'm actually quite intimidated as I pull up to the headquarters of Fitch Industries, only to find that it's no such thing at all. I've been given the address of their private home and frankly I'm astonished. Securing this place would be a fucking nightmare; I'm amazed JJ and Cook would want the gig. I could take this place apart with a five man team, and less if I wasn't expecting to come home.

Trouble is of course, that's exactly what the people threatening him and his family were expecting; not to come home, but to end up in paradise. People have always underestimated the threat of 'extremists', but history demonstrated exactly what an individual that had no fear of death could achieve, and not just in recent times either. It was my job today to show him just how dangerous these people could be in order to prove that I could defend his daughters against them.

So instead of an office block I'm looking at a country house, although I'm sure 'mansion' would be a better description. It's set back from the road by a half mile 'driveway' and it was obscured by a small copse of trees. As I pulled into the large gravelled area in front of the main entrance I couldn't help but think that it looked like the kind of place you see in period dramas. As long as they blanked out the tennis courts, the pool, the huge garage and the fucking helicopter pad that is.

Selling missiles, shells and guns certainly pays well. Though to be fair I'd probably helped pay for some of this. I'd fired enough rounds, and called in enough airstrikes, during my years in the service to pay for something here. I probably made him enough to get his fucking lawn trimmed one summer.

I pulled up outside the house, locked the Beemer and walked up to the front doors and rang the bell. I was met by a middle aged man in a sharp suit.

"I'm here to see Mr Fitch; I have an appointment at eleven." I'd checked the clock on my phone before I left the car.10:50. Perfect!

"Certainly Miss Campbell," he replied looking down his nose at me. "Follow me please; Mr Fitch is indisposed at the moment. He has requested that you wait in the Drawing Room."

The contempt in his voice was tangible and he gave off the vibes of being a professional. He was probably ex-army and judging by the accent, South African. He didn't like me I could tell; he probably saw me as a threat.

'_Well that's just tough shit isn't it?'_

I followed him into the sumptuous room that adjoined the capacious hallway.

"If you will wait here Miss Campbell, Mr Fitch will be with you presently."

I watched as he walked out of the room, not bothering to close the door after him. I waited for the sound of footsteps to fade, thinking over the implications of our brief conversation. He obviously worked for the Fitches, from the attitude and the fact that he knew who I was without my mentioning my name. But he was lazy and complacent. He'd let me in without verifying my identity or indeed checking me out. I was in the heart of Fitch industries and I hadn't even been searched; unbelievably lax.

I stood by the door, running my plan through my head, this was going to be a risky strategy, but from what I'd read about Rob Fitch it might just work to my advantage. I slipped my hand into the shoulder bag I carried and drew out the slim Walther P-99 I'd purchased last night on my way home. Hand guns are banned in the UK, but you can pick things up if you know where to go. As I fingered the trigger, my arm loose and relaxed, I knew what I had to do. Slipping from the room, totally unobserved, I crept down the hallway, following the sound of voices, desperately trying to stop my stupid heels clicking on the tiled floor, regretting the fact that Lara had convinced me to buy them. I stopped outside a large wooden door that was slightly ajar; the voices were definitely coming from here. Three voices in fact, the South African, another male and a female voice I couldn't place. The file had said that Rob was a Scouser, and that was definitely a Liverpool twang I could hear; no matter how hard he was trying to disguise it.

I was definitely in the right place.

I peeked through the doorway, to check my targets. I could tell that there were three people in the room; the large bloke behind the desk was definitely the primary target, one Robert Fitch. His file picture didn't do him justice; he was a hefty bloke and his teeth stood out against his dark tan. It gave him a slightly menacing appearance, like a tiger shark, or a panther; Robert Fitch was a dangerous guy. The sharply dressed South African who had let me in, and left me to prowl the house, was standing by the window staring out into the garden his back to me; if this really was Rob's bodyguard he was sloppy, very sloppy.

The mysterious third figure that Rob Fitch had been talking to was obscured by the back of the chair, I knew they were there, I could see a hand on the arm of the chair and I'd heard her voice as I'd approached. Who it was I didn't know, and didn't care if the truth be told. As long as I had a plan to deal with them I would be ok.

I took another glance into the room to make sure that my initial recon was correct and adjusting my plan to accommodate the extra person. I took one last steadying breath and kicked open the door, the Walther raised to my eye line, my finger on the trigger. I put two rounds into the bodyguards back and three into the back of the chair where the extra person was sat. I watched out of the corner of my eye as the plastic ball bearings fell to the floor as they hit their targets; the airsoft gun I'd bought being as good as the retailer had said it would be.

I pointed the weapon at the chest of Rob Fitch who had fallen silent as I had entered the room firing and was now looking at me with incredulity.

"Mr Fitch, thank you for seeing me today, my name is Naomi Campbell. I'm a consultant from Close Protection and as you can probably see, we need to have a long talk about your security, or lack of it as the case may be."

He opened and closed his mouth as every eye in the room turned towards me; his blue-grey eyes fixed on mine, the green eyes of the South African glaring at me and around the back of the chair came a set of the brownest eyes I'd ever seen. Wide like dinner plates they had looked at me in shock before hardening to granite and regarding me with abject contempt. She looked nothing like she did in her file picture, she looked one hell of a lot better; she looked fucking fierce.

'_Oh my fucking God; she is going to be the death of me, I just know it.'_

.

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**A/N -** Happy now? (-;


	8. The Anger of Emily Fitch

**Close Protection**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt and a severe lack of talent. Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which makes me very upset)

**Authors Note **– Oh so you're happy now are you? tch some people (-; Oh and you're starting to nag again...in the words of the psychologist, 'don't do that.' My poor head is battered as it is, I've got three stories on the go right now and it's killing me d-: Hope this latest chapter is up to par – writers block sucks big time!

**Chapter 8 – The Anger of Emily Fitch**

'_Oh my fucking God; she is going to be the death of me, I just know it.'_

I don't believe in love at first sight, that's just sentimental bollocks, but I do believe in lust at first sight; I always have. The first time I saw Amy in that bikini of hers, strutting past the pool like she owned the place, my first thought was definitely _'I wouldn't mind fucking that girl.'_ Whitey used to joke that I was more like a bloke than some of the boys we knew; I wasn't sure if it was a compliment or just pig-headed ignorance but I'd laughed along with him.

This time it's different and I don't know why. It's only an instant in my life but time appears to have slowed down, it's like every combat situation I've been in, it's like the ambush and the bombing; I can see every change in those brown eyes as they go from shock, to surprise, to relief, to anger all in the briefest of seconds. I'm absolutely captivated by her eyes, they are fucking gorgeous.

Jesus I'm supposed to be here proving that I can protect Rob Fitch from danger and here I am thinking about how hot his daughter is. _'Time to get your head back in the game Naomi, back to fucking work.'_

I looked back at Mr Fitch stood by his desk and it's in the nick of time as well; I spotted the South African approaching me with hate in his eyes. I've seen that kind of look before; on the streets of Basra where you'd catch a glance as you passed and the eyes would be cold and hard and you just knew trouble was around the corner. He came at me around the desk moving quickly and purposefully. I know I'm in danger here, this guy is fucking angry and I think the others in the room have realised that too.

"Pieter..." Mr Fitch's voice was a warning that the bodyguard wasn't prepared to hear, he totally ignored his voice and carried on towards me. I guess humiliating him like that hadn't made him my best friend forever; I think he was looking for an opportunity to strike back and this was his only chance.

"_Pieter..._" Mr Fitch shouted as he approached me, _"_Stop this _now_; leave her alone_."_

Bless, he must have been worried for me, there really wasn't any need.

I threw the airsoft gun away and out of the danger area, flicking off my shoes as I did so. The room wasn't that big but I had just about enough time to do that as I analysed my attackers movements.

'_Left handed by the look of his approach, stiff fingers, moving on the balls of his feet, he's probably done karate, looks pretty confident as well.'_

Almost absently I watched as his attack unfolded, I'd been trained not to panic, not to worry about the hands and to study the eyes, the shoulders and the hips; I stared into those eyes as he launched at me and saw the desire to do me harm reflected back. This guy had pretty much lost control, and he wasn't really that good, certainly not as good as he thought he was; definitely not as good as I am.

The first blow came at me pretty much as I expected it to, a right handed jab to my chest. I think he was expecting me to be surprised by the move, fooled by the fact that it was his right hand and not his left; _he_ was certainly surprised when he found that his target wasn't there. He _really_ wasn't expecting his target to catch his hand, flick him across the room and send him smashing over a chaise-longue and into the panelled wall. I watched with interest as he picked himself up, shook his head and turned to face me once again.

"I will fucking kill you bitch." He snapped at me, his accent hard. I actually believed he meant it as well.

'_Bad move asshole.'_

"Charming," I replied, deliberately keeping my voice light and unflustered, "are you sure you want to try that today son? Are you absolutely sure? Because the way I see it you already look a prize pillock and anything that happens from now on will only make you look even worse."

I was deliberately using my very best 'friendly Sergeant' voice, the one I talked to the rookies that joined our unit with, before I started the shouting that would terrorise them down to their very souls. It was time to push things a little harder.

"You see son, if this was real, if I was a real threat; you've already got yourself killed, worse than that you've got Miss Fitch over there killed and you've got your package killed. Now you're threatening to kill the person that's made you look like a twat and you're even failing at that."

He regarded me with eyes that had narrowed into cold slits, this time instead of his rampage attack, trying to use his sheer size to beat me down; he came at me slowly, circling where I stood like a predator, looking for a weakness he could exploit. He was totally ignoring the orders from his boss to stand down; basically he was too far gone to listen. I was convinced that I would have to put him down hard or risk getting injured myself. Not a good way to endear myself to a prospective client, even I knew that. I may have created a situation that is going to backfire on me, no matter what happens next.

"Mr Fitch, if your dog won't back down I might have to rap him on the snout and teach him some manners." I called out, knowing that he was trying to get him to back down; hoping that he would give me something to work with, something to get me out of the hole I had dug for myself. Silently praying that either Pieter would listen to his boss, or that I could rattle him into doing something rash and end this quickly.

"Miss Campbell, I obviously have no control over my employee, Pieter, you're fired, I will not stand for behaviour like this, Miss Campbell, do what you need to do. But try not to damage anything if you would."

He was interested in this, I could tell from his voice. The file had told me that Rob Fitch was fiercely competitive in everything he did, sports, business, personal life, family. He probably saw this as some kind of gladiatorial contest, me and Pieter, down in the arena fighting for our lives for the entertainment of others; he, of course, cast as the Emperor looking down upon us. I could even imagine him enjoying himself on the balcony being fed peeled grapes and waiting for the time when he would signal whether the defeated warrior would live or die.

But he _had_ just given me free reign to defend myself and I could use that to my advantage. Pieter was bigger and stronger than me, but that was the only thing he had and that wasn't a problem. Plenty of people had been bigger and stronger than me, some had even been more vicious; but I was faster, more agile and more often than not smarter than my opponent. This wasn't even a contest, not as far as I was concerned.

'_Still, be careful Naomi, remember what Sensei Morgan taught you; over confidence is the fastest way to defeat. Always give your enemy the greatest of respect and fight not to win, but with the goal of not being defeated.'_

Wise words they were, and I pulled in my mind and aimed for that wonderful place that was the void; the mind/no-mind where I could see, hear, taste and smell everything around me simultaneously. Where I stood when I did not want to be defeated.

As we circled each other I absorbed everything about my surroundings, evaluating the terrain, looking for the proverbial high ground. The best attack spot was when one of us faced the windows; the bright light would distract the eyes and make a swift attack that much easier. From my point of view it was also when I got to catch sight of Rob and his daughter, and be distracted by the brunette with the brown eyes. I noticed that she had moved to stand next to her father, out of the way of the caged animals that were preparing to fight. I looked across at her as she glared at us, her arms folded across her chest, my concentration ruined for the briefest of seconds.

'_Stay with it Naomi, focus...before you get hurt.'_

I dragged my eyes away from the girl and her father and caught a subtle mistake from Pieter. Hand to hand combat is like that, it's not all about brawn, brute strength or speed. They help of course, but someone with an agile mind can have a real advantage. Sometimes it's what you see the other person looking at that makes all the difference.

We were both clever enough to work out that the light streaming in from the windows was our main disadvantage; that was pretty obvious. I'd spotted that he moved quickly and more defensively there as probably, unconsciously, I did as well. No, his mistake was to focus on a large picture mirror that hung above the ornate fireplace behind me for a fraction of a second too long. Instantly I could read his plan in his eyes, he moved his circling closer, pushing himself into my defensive perimeter. Then as I passed the bright light that reflected from the mirror he made his attack.

I nearly wasn't quick enough, my body was fit, but not properly combat fit and I avoided the fast hand attack by mere inches. Within milliseconds he was on me, sensing an advantage, and I was fighting literally for my life. He really was fast and his anger made him dangerous, but it also made him vulnerable; and I took advantage of a clumsily thrown punch to drop beneath his guard and hit him twice in the ribs; the uppercuts designed to hurt and hurt they did, as the second punch impacted I felt and heard his ribs give way.

I caught the sight of Emily Fitch wincing and turning her head into her father's shoulder as the dull crack resounded about the silent room. Pieter, to his credit, was made of stronger stuff though. Fuelled by adrenaline he seemed to shrug off the small matter of a broken rib or two and he lurched upright and stalked me once more, his breathing the only thing that told me he was actually hurt.

"Pieter mate, give it up," I taunted him, knowing his anger was his real enemy, "you're not good enough to beat me my friend. Sit yourself down, have a rest and let your old Sarn't Campbell get you a nice glass of water and some tablets to make those ribs feel better."

I winked at him cheekily and then learned to regret ignoring my old teacher's words. He just snarled at me and let rip, any style to his fighting was gone now and he simply threw himself towards me, all thrown fists and gnashing teeth, a total animal. I simply couldn't handle all of the blows he was throwing at me and I took one to the face that I knew was going to leave a lovely black eye. As we fought, punches were thrown and blocked, kicks were attempted and failed. After rocking him with a hard punch to the jaw he lashed out wildly with a foot and I took a hard blow to my right thigh; it hit me right on the scar where the bullet had exited and with a cry of pain I felt the still weakened muscle give way and I hit the floor hard.

'_Note to self, when you get back home it's time to spend some time in that gym. Some weights work is definitely needed on that leg.'_

Like they had in the alleyway, my instincts told me of the oncoming kick and I rolled for dear life, hoping that his heavy foot wouldn't connect; trying to give myself the precious few seconds that I needed to get the feeling back into my damaged thigh. Rolling to my feet I pulled myself up gingerly into a crouch, favouring my left leg. Pieter smiled evilly as he saw my weakness, I knew exactly what he was thinking; it was now or never.

Pulling myself back to my full height I stared back at him and flexed out my muscle; tensing it and releasing it as I moved.

"Aw, has the little girl got a sore leg? Perhaps Pieter could make it better for her? Come here little girl and I'll make that pain all go away."

...and there it was, my opportunity, he had decided to play the game and taunt me back; except _he_ made the mistake of believing his own shit. He believed I was seriously injured; he wasn't all that wrong if I'm honest. My leg was aching but still working and not as badly hurt as I was making out. He believed my limping was genuine and that his little kick had seriously hurt me. He had fallen into the trap of underestimating me and _that_ was my opportunity. As I hobbled towards him my arms raised, leg trailing behind me, he dropped into a fighting stance and noticing the subtle shift of his hips I knew what was coming.

The roundhouse kick isn't a clever move against a fit, skilled opponent. I was always taught that. If you're really good you can pull it off, but life really isn't like it is in the movies; your opponent doesn't usually stand there and let you swing that back leg all the way round and connect with their head. I fucking didn't anyway; as soon as I saw his left leg start moving I was in action. I dropped my hips, ignoring the pain as all of my weight hit my injured right thigh and Iashed out with my left foot into the side of his supporting knee as his left foot sailed harmlessly over my head. Pieter screamed with pain as his knee buckled and he fell to the floor; with one swift step I leapt on him and punched him in the side of the head, the screaming stopped abruptly.

Carefully I checked his pulse and his breathing and stepped away from his prone figure and straightened my clothes. No major damage done, apart from his ribs and my eye and I could tell that he'd be out for a good few minutes; certainly he'd be out cold for long enough for me to remove his belt and tie his hands with it. I really didn't want a repeat performance.

As I stood I heard a slow hand clap from behind the desk and turned to see Miss Fitch regarding me with cold contempt.

"Oh very well done Miss Campbell," she said her voice dripping with sarcasm, emphasising my name with scorn. "You turn up at our home to talk about our security arrangements and the first thing you do is knock our bodyguard unconscious. Tell me, were you born this fucking stupid or did you just evolve this way in whatever gutter you grew up in?"

I stared back at her, I can't decide if I hate her for her fucking bitchiness or if I'm impressed. I've never really met a woman that was that openly confrontational. Amy was a bitch a lot of the time in our relationship, especially towards the end, but she was never out and out aggressive; that was my role apparently. Amy's bitchiness was all under the counter, hidden and usually below the belt; not like this Fitch girl. I think it's refreshingly honest.

"Well, are you just going to fucking stand there or are you capable of speaking you fucking ape? Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

Actually scratch that, not refreshingly honest, just fucking rude.

"Emily love that's not very fair."

She turned towards him, finally releasing me from her glare, "What's not fair daddy? She bursts into a private meeting brandishing a fucking gun, shoots Pieter _and_ me with her little toy and then does that."

She absently waved at the figure on the floor, not even acknowledging him now, cast off like an unwanted pony. _'Spoilt fucking bitch.'_

"Emsy love, he did deserve it. There was no need for him to do what he did; and Miss Campbell did give him every opportunity to stop."

"Gods sake daddy, open your eyes, she's a bloody liability. Sort it out ok? I'm going to my room to pack some things. I've got a meeting with representatives of Raman Srivastava in London in the morning; I'll need to prepare for it if we want them to sign the deal."

Even I know that name, Srivastava is head of India's Border Security Force, heavily criticised for his alleged attitude towards Muslims and commander of a unit that regularly receives complaints for 'unauthorised' excursions across India's borders. If Fitch Industries has a deal with them that is a lot of shells, bullets and bombs they're likely to sell; and a lot of enemies all over the world they're likely to make.

She literally knocked me out of my thoughts by leaving the room, slamming her shoulder into mine as she passed. I looked back at her in shock as I regained my balance.

"Don't mind her Miss Campbell, she doesn't like surprises my Emily and as you probably know we've been getting some threats recently. She's a little jumpy."

I inclined my head at him, "Sorry about this Mr Fitch, I was trying to prove a point. Mr Cook sent me here to prove that I, that _we_ excuse me; were good enough to work with you on your protection. I read that you're competitive, you like things that are active and dramatic. I could have given you a presentation or a fancy speech about what we can offer you, but I thought you might like proof of how lax your current provider has become."

I looked down at the figure at my feet. "I had no idea he'd take it so badly...or your daughter for that matter."

'_Now __why__ did I mention that spoilt brat again?'_

He laughed at me, a broad belly laugh, "Damned if you're not right Miss Campbell, or can I call you Naomi. James told me that you were an enterprising and ingenious proposition. He told me that you'd be perfect for the role, I'm glad to see he wasn't wrong. Now you said you wanted to talk to me about my lack of security. So I'm all ears."

He gestured me into the chair that his daughter had so recently vacated and made a phone call as I retrieved my shoes, and the pistol, and sat down. Within minutes two burly men had arrived and led a groggy, but recovering, Pieter from the room; his hands still bound behind him. Ignoring all of this Mr Fitch walked over to an expansive bar that was built into the wall and fixed himself a large Scotch before turning and offering me a drink.

"No thank you Mr Fitch, I don't think that'd be appropriate."

"Naomi, call me Rob, everyone else around here does."

"Again, Mr Fitch, thank you; but I'm not sure that'd be appropriate."

He smiled at me and returned to the large oak desk that took up a huge portion of the end of the room in which we were sitting. "So Naomi, apart from the fact that you've already managed to 'kill' me and a member of my family today, what can you tell me about my security?"

I leaned forward in my chair and spent the next ten minutes telling him all about the dangers he faced in his property; the open access, the lack of surveillance cameras in key areas, and finally about how lax the people that were guarding him were.

"I drove up to this place, unchallenged. I was let into the building without even having to prove my identity. Then I was led into a room and left alone and unguarded. Mr Fitch at that point I had a free run of your house and I walked around with a weapon in my hand and not one person raised the alarm or tried to stop me. I could have done anything and you would be none the wiser. I could have placed listening devices, micro-cameras or even worse bombs in any part of your property. I could have killed you and got away, let alone killed you in some stupid suicide mission.

You're vulnerable Mr Fitch, but then most people are; I'm sure we could sort a lot of that out for you but I suppose it's down to what kind of a threat you're talking about, how seriously you take the threats and how inconvenienced you're prepared to be."

He regarded me carefully before opening his desk drawer and revealing a manila envelope. He tossed it casually across the desk towards me and I leaned forward and opened it. Inside were a series of photographs, expensive ones as well; glossy, high quality detailed surveillance shots of himself, his wife and his daughters with a short computer generated note.

'_End your association with the enemies of Islam and spare yourself the pain of losing your family. We have hundreds of martyrs prepared to sacrifice themselves in the glorious journey to the defeat of the kāfir.'_

It was signed with the name of a group I'd heard of in Kandahar during one of the long and boring security briefings. 'Khuddam ul-Islam', a small group; thought to be based in Pakistan and Afghanistan who had a real thing against the Indian authorities and their allies.

I glanced up at him as I flicked through the photographs again, "Verified?" He nodded.

"How did you get this?"

"It was dropped off by courier at our London offices."

"Looks like there is a real threat then," I looked up from my examination of the photo's.

"I think you need our help Mr Fitch. Mr Cook's operation may be smaller than some other companies but I'm sure he's already got a plan that would safeguard yourself and your family."

I'm guessing here, but I'm guessing that someone as savvy as Cook would have a lot of things in place.

"Yeah, he does, he keeps telling me that very same thing every time we meet. James Cook is a persistent bugger and he's been pestering me for months but I've been happy with the service I've received up to now; apart for one sensitive role that James thought you'd be good for...however..."

His voice tailed off as if in thought and he paused for a second, looking at me appraisingly before pulling out a phone from his pocket and casually flicking through it; within seconds he put it to his ear.

"James! Robert Fitch...very well thank you; how about you and that girlfriend of yours?...Good, good, I'm glad to hear it. Look James I've just met with your new employee and I have to say bursting into my office shooting my bodyguard and daughter with a toy gun and then beating poor Pieter half to death is an interesting way of trying to tell me something's wrong."

I could hear the silence over the phone, then I heard the tinny crackle that was probably James Cook trying to apologise for my behaviour.

"James, James, it's fine, you promised me innovative and I think you delivered. Look, Jenna and I are having a little soiree on Friday and I'd be delighted if you and the lovely Elizabeth would come along and join us. Bring some things along with you; the two of you should stay the night, we've got plenty of space. Come up early and we'll talk business during the afternoon, you've impressed me today James, I think I like your style."

There was a long pause as Cook spoke to him then Rob smiled. "That's great to hear James; I'll get Alison to confirm the details with you. I'll see you Friday James, goodbye."

He tucked his phone back into his pocket. "I do like keeping that boy on his toes," he said and smiled at me expansively.

"Naomi I have a favour to ask, call it part of the 'active' meeting you promised me if you will. I'd like you to take a look at my operation here and give me some feedback. I also need something taking back to London later if you would. As you probably heard my daughter has an important meeting there tomorrow and I'd like her to get there safely. She flew up this morning and with Pieter now, indisposed and unemployed; I need someone that I can trust to make sure she's ok. Would you do me that favour Naomi; prove to me that Close Protection is the right company for the job?"

'_Shit, fuck,'_

I found myself nodding at him, the bastard knew I wouldn't be able to say no; not with me trying to win this business with him. So I get to give him a free security analysis and a free protection duty on his fucking daughter. Who, by the looks of things, wouldn't even bother to scrape me off the bottom of her shoe...I'm sure she'd get someone else to do that for her, someone totally unimportant.

'_This is going to be fucking heaven, four hours in a car with someone that hates me...great, that's just fucking great!' _

.

.

.

**A/N –** Next Stop, the drive home (-:


	9. London Calling

**Close Protection**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt and a severe lack of talent. Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which makes me very upset)

**Authors Note **– Oh my god! foolishgames has pointed out that I'm writing 'The Bodyguard' I'm not, really…please don't run away…I've never seen it; even Mrs Es hates it and she likes bloody Twilight! All I know of it is that it was cheesy and crap, I can't promise I won't do the same but I'll do my best, feel free to warn me if it gets too, well, Costnery…deal?

Oh and by the way, I believe we owe a big _**Happy Birthday**_ to _AssassinsLover_ for today and to _SummerSkins_ for tomorrow (I think...ah well, for whenever), hope you have good days guys, have one for me!

When you get to my age you don't celebrate birthdays...did I tell you I was good mates with Adam and Eve back in the day? I went to a party at Cleopatra's once; I don't recommend the cereal in the morning though, the milk tasted funny!

Again enjoy...

**Chapter 9 – London Calling**

Well Fortress Fitch is a running joke. I have to admit that building security isn't my best subject, I was trained to kick doors in, not stop them being kicked in. I left that kind of thing to the desk jockeys, but even my non-professional eye can see the holes in what's been set up. I mean there's no-one on the entrance to check people and there's not even a set of security gates that can be operated remotely by what is laughingly known as the 'control centre'.

Even the control centre is pathetic, there's an overweight camera operator called Kevin that I've been introduced to who seems more interested in spying on the Fitch's than looking for intruders. I'm shocked to see his cameras point exactly at where I walked, carrying a fucking gun, and yet he says he saw nothing.

Kevin might be finding himself on the end of my boot if we get this gig, and my boot might just be pointing at the fucking dole queue.

Outside it's not much better, the garage itself is pretty well secured; I guess you'd have good locks on it with the cars that are parked in here, it's a petrol-heads dream. The trouble is it backs onto a small wood, and there's a perfect point of entry through a partially concealed door at the back. It only leads into a workshop, but that workshop has a less than secure door into the garage proper. There's no alarm on the external door and no camera anywhere that I can see. Get into the workshop and you have all the time in the world to get into the garage and plant something onto one, or all of the cars. Fucking hell you don't even need to bring any tools, everything you could need is neatly stacked in a bank of Snap-On tool chests that some of the combat engineers I knew would kill their parents for.

Basically this place is a joke and I'm positive someone with a better eye for building security would find even more problems.

As I'm walking around, escorted by a tall burly security guard who had introduced himself as Alan, my phone rang. Grabbing it from my inside pocket I hit the answer button to the withheld number.

"Close Protection, Naomi Campbell speaking." I said hating the sound as soon as I said it, hating the telephone voice I'd just invented.

"Blondie," came the southern drawl of James Cook from the other end, "I hear you've been making a nuisance of yourself."

"I've been making an impact Mr Cook, and I've also been making a lot of promises I hope our company can cover. This place is a joke security wise."

"I've been telling Rob that for about a year, if you think their home is bad wait until you see their headquarters. Six months ago I got up to Rob's office without a single person stopping me. Office types, they're just complacent."

"Well I guess they all think that everyone is supposed to be there, bit different in the military we're always suspicious."

"That we are Blondie, that we are. Look, Rob's told me he's asked you to drive his daughter back to London today as a favour. I know you've agreed to it because he's been singing your praises for the last ten minutes. He also told me that young Emily isn't exactly enamoured of you. I know what a temper you've got Blondie, JJ has told me all about it. Be on your best behaviour and make sure nothing happens to her you understand?"

"I understand boss. I'll bite my tongue. It's only four hours after all isn't it."

He laughed down the end of the phone, "that it is Naomi, only four hours."

o+o+o

I headed back to Mr Fitch's office with a head full of questions and a notepad full of thoughts. As I approached I heard the unmistakable sound of angry voices. Alan my escort looked at me and rolled his eyes.

"Are they like this a lot?" I asked gauging his reaction.

"Only on days with ending with 'y'; Miss Fitch _is_ a bit of a firebrand. Rumour has it she's not exactly in love with what she does."

"So why does she do it then?"

"Her 'daddy' asked her to and she loves her 'daddy.' It's as simple as that. One of the maids heard her crying in her room one day after one of these rows. Heather, that's the maid, thinks that she's not quite the massive bitch she seems to be, says she's 'sensitive'."

I raised my eyebrow at that. "Yeah," he continued seeing my look, "I'm not sure I'd want to cross her just to find out either."

I dismissed him with a wave as we approached the office; I waited for a second in the hallway until he was out of sight before, rather rudely, creeping up to the door and listening into the conversation. _'Intelligence gathering,'_ I thought to myself, _'sounds so much nicer than eavesdropping'_

Turns out I was right to listen in, they were talking about me.

"_Not a chance dad, you've got to be out of your mind."_

"_Emsy love, it is the only way."_

"_Not a chance dad, she's a psycho, did you see what she did to your best bodyguard?"_

"_I did Emily I saw it very clearly. I was very impressed as well. As you say Pieter was the best bodyguard I've had and she made him look like an idiot; both professionally and physically."_

"_You like her don't you? Are you going to try and screw her like you did your secretary?"_

I heard the silence descend; I think Miss Fitch may just have crossed a line there.

"_Emily, you've known about your mother and I and our relationships for a long time now. I've trusted you with it and I've trusted you to keep it from Katie and James. Don't abuse that trust by trying to throw it in my face because you're angry over nothing. I have no interest in Miss Campbell other than a professional one and I doubt very much she would be interested in me. She will be driving you back to London, with that latest threat you are not driving yourself alone and that is the end of the matter."_

"_Well if she hadn't crippled Pieter..."_

"_Emily enough! You hated Pieter; you've hated every single person I've asked to look after you. This time I'm putting my foot down; you will have an escort back to London. I can't risk you or this contract, do you understand?"_

The room went silent at that last hard tone. Carefully and quickly I slipped back down the corridor and walked back towards the room as if I'd just arrived. It was just as well I did, as I approached, the door was flung open and a furious looking Emily Fitch stormed past, snorting at me as she did so. She's pretty when she's angry, but boy that's one hell of a fucking temper.

I knocked on the door and was waved in by Mr Fitch.

"Naomi, come in, tell me what you've found."

I walked to his desk and put down my notepad; he picked it up and glanced through the hastily scribbled notes.

"You have to understand Mr Fitch, I'm speaking as a soldier here, and I've only considered the things I'd do if I was asked to attack you or this building. I'm sure a specialist security expert would do a far more thorough job."

"So what's your speciality Naomi, apart from storming buildings and breaking heads?"

"Well apart from that I'm a specialist in military law and personal protection. I'm sure you've seen my full resume. I spent 7 years in the Royal Military Police and did one tour in Iraq and three in Afghanistan performing a close protection role for VIPs' and brass."

He nodded; I made a mental note to ask JJ about my resume, it would be nice to see what they were telling people about me.

"You've seen combat of course?"

I nodded, "More than my fair share and far more than I like to think about Mr Fitch, I've probably bought you a cigar or two in my time let's put it that way."

I really didn't want to talk about my past with him, not today; thankfully he took the hint and backed off.

"Friday's soirée Naomi, I hope you'll come along as well. I extend the same invitation to you as I did to James, bring some bits and stay over; bring a guest if you want. As you've seen we've got plenty of space and lots of things to keep you busy."

"I'll do that Mr Fitch and thank you. You have a lovely home."

"I do, but it's a bit big and empty without people enjoying themselves hence the party. Jenna, my wife, and Katie will be there so you'll get a chance to meet them as well. It's been a pleasure Naomi, an eye opening one as well. I'll see you on Friday."

"I'll look forward to it."

We shook hands and I made my way back into the hallway, a little stunned and not in the slightest bit pleased. I won't be looking forward to it at all; I fucking _hate_ parties, especially ones that people call "soirée's. I never know how to act, I was a squaddie not an officer; our parties usually involved drinking contests and waking up, hung-over, with some random. On the whole I'd rather be working, at least then I've got an excuse not to drink and do polite small talk.

Seriously, could my day get any fucking worse?

o+o+o

Apparently it could; as I closed the door carefully behind me I'm faced with a short brunette standing in front of me, arms folded across her chest, a small wheeled suitcase next to her.

"I understand you're taking me back to London," she said coldly.

I inclined my head at her and waited. "Well come on then I haven't got all day." I shrugged in reply, hitched my bag onto my shoulder and headed towards the front doors.

"Haven't you forgotten something?"

I stopped dead in the middle of the hallway and took a deep breath before turning to look at her. The cheeky bitch was gesturing at her case. I smiled sweetly and turned back to the entrance.

"No, I'm sure I've got everything I brought thank you very much." I said as I walked away.

"You're such a bitch." I heard her say behind me.

"You're goddamned right." I muttered in reply.

I ignored the grumblings that followed me as I walked down the steps to the X3. I knew she was pissed off at me, but I really didn't care. I didn't work for her and despite everything she hadn't exactly been pleasant to me. I was still smarting from the "psycho" comment as well as the swelling eye and I'm not in a forgiving mood. Gorgeous or not I had no time for spoilt little bitches and their demands, not since Amy, and she was enough for a lifetime. As I climbed into the driver's seat I saw Miss Fitch staring at me.

"Yes, can I help you?"

"Yes actually. You can put my bag in the boot and open the door for me like you're supposed to."

That was the final straw; I pressed the boot release on the dash and closed the driver's door behind me, buckling in and starting the engine. I pressed the button to open the window and frowned at her as the glass rolled down smoothly in a ballet of German precision.

"Let's get this straight Miss Fitch; I'm driving you to London as a personal favour to your father. I am not your servant and I'm not your chauffeur. I'm trained to do one thing and that's keep people like you alive, and I don't do that whilst carrying their belongings like a pack mule. Now, if you'll put your case in the back and get in, we'll be on our way."

I wound up the window and turned on the stereo, the newly bought Clash box set putting an end to any further conversation; one thing I'd learned when I was in Afghanistan, loud music cures all ills. With the stereo blasting I watched out of the corner of my eye as she carried her bag effortlessly to the boot and felt the car shake as she slammed it closed.

I stared at her through the rear view mirror as she climbed into the back seat and sat down.

"Seat belt please Miss Fitch," I admonished her lowering the volume for a second, "safety first."

o+o+o

"_London calling to the faraway towns. Now war is declared and battle come down."_

I picked up the tail as we drove up the A46 towards the M4; it was innocuous enough, a plain white Transit van and you see them everywhere. But there was something about the way it was being driven that made me suspicious. It seemed to close on us then drop back suddenly as if the driver realised he'd got too near and tried to evade notice. It was probably nothing but I was still suspicious; the worst thing about coming home after a tour in Butlins was you found it hard to trust anything, or anyone, again.

"_London calling - and I don't wanna shout. But while we were talking I saw you running out."_

I turned down the stereo and adjusted the rear view mirror until I could see both her and the van.

"Miss Fitch does your father often have you followed?"

"She snorted scornfully, "My father trusts me implicitly Miss Campbell, he would never stoop so low as to have me followed."

"Interesting," I replied, "hold on tight."

I floored the accelerator and pushed the overweight 4x4 to the limits of its acceleration. I heard a short squeal from the back as I flung the car around corners, attempting to put as much distance between us and the Transit as I could in the shortest possible time; praying that the tractor and horse box brigade would stay off the roads today and give me a straight run to the motorway.

As soon as I got onto the M4 I slowed slightly and made a call.

"Close Protection Jeremiah Jones speaking."

"JJ it's Campbell."

"Sarge, Cookie told me your meeting with Rob Fitch went well, congratulations I…."

"JJ listen to me," I interrupted, "I'm on the M4 heading back to London and we've picked up a tail. I've got Emily Fitch in the car with me and there's a white Transit following us."

I knew it was definitely following us, I could see it in my rear view mirror and I pushed the accelerator a bit closer to the floor.

"Hang on a second Naomi, I'm going to punch in our operations team," there was a slight click on the line and a second voice spoke.

"Naomi? It's Mel in Ops, have you got a registration on the van?"

"Yeah, it's a white Ford Transit registration Kilo November 5 6 Echo Charlie Zulu."

"Ok, hold on for a second...Naomi, according to the Insurance database that's registered to a green Ford Focus."

"Shit, JJ this doesn't look good, the van is definitely on my tail and we're coming into traffic. It won't be long before they catch up with me."

"OK guys, listen up; Mel get in touch with the Police and alert them to our situation, Naomi do your best to stay out of their way just in case. Stay on the li..."

"_There's a tower in the heart of London, with a radio station right at the top..."_

Joe Strummers voice came over the stereo, signalling the end of the conversation. With a grunt of frustration I looked at the display and tried to reconnect my call to JJ. After everything seemed to fail I looked across at the screen properly only to see the words 'No Signal' displayed. Jesus wept, there's never a phone mast when you need one.

"Miss Fitch can you do something for me quickly please?" I asked glancing back at her. She'd obviously heard everything I had said and she didn't look quite as cocky as she had previously. I saw her nod in the mirror, eyes wide.

"Good, I need you to undo your seat belt, get into the middle of the seat and put the lap belt on, can you do that?." She didn't ask questions, much to her credit; she must have heard the hint of tension in my voice and she complied with my request immediately.

"Cool, now I want you to lie down on the seat, pull that lap belt as tight as you can. and make yourself as small as possible, can you do that for me please."

She nodded again and vanished from my eye line. I adjusted the mirror once again to see the white van approaching at a rate of knots. I was weaving in and out of the traffic, lights flashing at every opportunity.

"Are we going to be alright?" I heard her ask from the back seat.

"We are if I've got anything to do with it. This may be nothing Miss Fitch but let's not take chances ok? Keep your head down, hold onto something, and we'll be fine."

I slammed my hand onto the horn and braked hard as a car and caravan pulled out in front of me, seemingly oblivious to our approach. It was the opportunity that the Transit needed and with a lurch they crossed into the outside lane and blocked me in. As I glanced across I saw the side door slide open and a familiar shape point out.

I threw myself to the seat as the glass around me shattered under the hail of fire. The only things that saved us were my application of the brakes throwing off his aim, and the fact that firing from a moving vehicle with a high velocity assault rifle is difficult at best. As I leaned up and looked out of the window I thanked the Gods that they'd stuck with the big guns, if they'd used a pistol or an SMG instead of the AK it might have been a different story.

Avoiding the cars I swung the Beemer in and out of the traffic, heart pounding, adrenaline pumping through my system. I was pulling every trick I could, trying to stop the van getting alongside us again, trying to stop them getting a clear shot at us. It seemed almost surreal when I was distracted by the sound of my phone ringing.

"Yes?" I shouted as the phone automatically picked up the call and JJ's voice came over the speakers.

"Sarge are you all right we lost the call."

"No I'm not fucking all right LT, the white van is full of hostiles and they're fucking shooting at us. Now stop fucking distracting me I'm trying to do my job."

I threw the car around the inside of a lorry that was hogging the middle lane, lurching onto the hard shoulder. The Transit appeared in front of us and I ducked again as the back doors opened. The gunmen opened fire on us as I watched the road, my head barely peeking above the console. They were obviously making the mistake of aiming for the driver rather than the engine as they barely hit the car, their first few shots smashing the windshield showering me with glass and laminate the recoil taking the rest of their shots high and wide. I booted the accelerator and dropped a gear, causing the X3 to lurch forwards.

"What the fuck are you doing?" I heard from the back as the engine screamed under the acceleration.

"Keeping us alive," I replied harshly, "Now keep down and shut up."

I could hear JJ talking to people back at Head Office, but I ignored them concentrating on what I was doing. I'm not sure the gunmen in the Transit realised until it was too late what was happening, both of them trying to reload their weapons at the same time. It was sloppy, real sloppy and I was going to make them pay. By the time they looked up and saw us, we were inches from them and, with a crunch, I smashed the bonnet into the rear of the van throwing them to the floor. I watched disinterestedly as they scrabbled to hold onto something to stop them being thrown out and under our wheels.

I didn't fail to spot one of the AK's fall from the back of the vehicle as I backed off; I heard it as it smashed into the floor pan of the car and bounced away. I relayed that piece of evidence to JJ to pass onto the authorities as I accelerated once more. Hopefully they'd find it and get some prints or something off it; I put it to the back of my head, there were more pressing matters including ramming that fucking van again. This time I smashed into the back corner of their vehicle, hoping to catch a tyre or simply spin them out. They did lose control, but unfortunately as they veered around they slammed down the side of our car and managed to regain it again. Desperately I swung the wheel over smashing it into the side of the van, trying to keep them off balance until I could get in front of them again.

"A Police helicopter is en-route to you Naomi, keep it together."

"Lovely JJ thanks, fuck all use they're going to be, not unless it's a fucking gunship they're flying."

"Sorry Sarge, we're not big on gunship support in the UK, not for the Police anyway."

I couldn't help but laugh as I concentrated on keeping us ahead of the van and out of danger.

"Are you OK back there Miss Fitch?" I shouted, hoping that JJ would hear her reply.

"I'm a bit bruised but otherwise ok."

"Good, bruises won't kill you, but one of those fucking bullets might. Keep your head down Miss Fitch, ok?"

"Ok."

Our deadly little duel continued for miles, each time they managed to pull close, or even on one occasion alongside, I used the weight of the X3 to ram them. I tried to be careful, there were civilians all around us after all, but ultimately I had a package in the back and a personal desire not to be shot at again. The main problem with this stretch of motorway was that it went on for ages; I desperately wanted to get off the M4, get onto the back roads where I could lose them in the twists and turns and get away. Everything I'd learned about evasive driving was useless on this straight stretch of road.

Then I had an idea; waiting until the Transit got close again I veered sharply to the right clipping its bonnet with the back of the truck. As they veered away, and clipped the barrier in the central reservation; I swung the wheel hard to the left and across all the lanes, ignoring the screeches of brakes and the horns that were sounded in protest at the dangerous manoeuvre. Skipping over the grass verge, we skidded onto the slip road and escaped the motorway into the relative safety of the Leigh Delamere Motorway Services. Avoiding the road to the car park I drove straight to the coach and lorry section; we were free and clear for a second and I pulled in between two large trucks to hide, and used the time to kick out the rest of the shattered front windshield and check on the package.

"Are you ok back there Miss Fitch, any injuries?"

She looked up at me, just a hint of terror in those dinner plate brown eyes that were back again, and shook her head. I leaned back in my seat and pushed her around roughly checking her over for wounds. She winced as I grabbed her wrist.

"Get the fuck off me!"

So the scared little girl has suddenly vanished to be replaced by the bitch again; fucks sake, try to do someone a favour and see how you're rewarded. Jesus she pisses me off.

"Shut up and listen to me, I haven't got time for your shit. Your father asked me to get you to London safely and I'll do that if I can. I need to know that you're ok. Now what's wrong with your fucking wrist?"

"Nothing, I think I've sprained it that's all."

"Right, fine." I dug around in the glove box and dragged out the first aid kit I'd spotted when I'd got the car last night, "strap it up with something in here then keep quiet."

"Have we lost them? We'll be safe here won't we; they wouldn't try anything somewhere so public would they?"

She was trying to sound confident but I wasn't fooled, time for a dose of reality.

"Miss Fitch, these people attacked us in broad daylight on a public road. I doubt they'd have any compulsion not to pull up next to us in front of Scotland fucking Yard and riddle us with bullets. If this is the organisation that your father told me about they have no fear of dying, they probably _want_ to die, they see it as a fucking honour."

That had been one of the hardest things I'd had to come to terms with in my time in the Army, the fact that men, women, and even children would willingly sacrifice themselves for what they believed in. I had been _prepared_ to die, you don't go into combat without that, but I didn't _want_ to die. It was a difference we had, not so much a gap in cultures but a bloody big chasm.

We didn't get chance to chat further. I heard a screech of tyres and looked around nervously; sure enough speeding around the lorry park was the white van, its side door locked open; one of the gunmen clearly visible, searching for us amongst the parked vehicles.

"I'm going to need you to hold on tight again Miss Fitch, we're not out of the woods yet."

It would only be a matter of time until they found us and I decided to take the initiative. I put the X3 into reverse and waited until I saw them complete their latest circuit, as they drove up the lane we were parked in I waited and waited until they came visible from behind the lorry and floored the accelerator. We plunged backwards and smashed into the Transit just behind the driver's door, rocking it, almost tipping it over. As soon as we hit, I had the car in first gear; my foot still pushing the accelerator pedal into the floor, the engine over revving wildly. I dropped the clutch, wheels spinning in protest at the violent change in direction, and I headed for the Travelodge signs and the staff access road I knew would be there.

We smashed through the flimsy barrier and out onto the back roads. We had a few seconds head start on the now-damaged van and I intended to use them to my advantage. I smashed through a wooden gate and took the Beemer to where it was allegedly designed to go, off-road. Frantically I pressed the buttons on the console that activated the off road features, it wasn't easy. The field we were plummeting across wasn't exactly a flat bowling green, it was a pitted bumpy surface and it took all my training to keep us on four wheels let alone operate a fucking driving computer. I was relieved to think that if it was this bad for us; the assholes in the Transit would be having an even worse time. Especially if they were travelling at the same speed we were.

It always amused me watching the off-road training courses on the telly; you know where some celebrity would be taught how to drive their precious Chelsea tractor through some mud. It wasn't like that in the Army, none of that careful and slow manoeuvring. It was foot to the floor and to hell with the suspension, especially if you were under fire. I'm positive that my passenger wasn't having a good time; well we had a word for that in the Army as well…tough!

I could see dust from behind us and assumed that the van was still on our tail. I pushed the X3 a bit harder and drove directly towards a hedgerow that marked the end of the field. With a lurch we hit the lipped edge and to its credit the car did a credible impression of a flying brick as we hurdled the ditch on the other side; it took all the skill at my command to keep us upright as we landed, the X3 bouncing viciously on its suspension and trying desperately to roll over. I ignored a squeal of pain from the back, if you can scream you're probably more or less ok, and carried on the escape. I caught sight of the Transit making the same manoeuvre, attempting to leap through the hedgerow and over the ditch.

They weren't quite as successful as we were. As I watched through the rear view mirror I saw the rear of the van slide as they landed spinning them round, the driver tried to correct but in a heartbeat they were rolling, the front and rear offside wheels must have caught in a furrow as they spun. Three times the Transit bounced along the field before coming to rest on its side. I put it out of my mind and continued our escape. I doubted that they'd be putting up any more resistance, but 7.62mm rounds travel a long way and I wasn't taking the risk that one of the fuckers would be conscious enough to at least get off a few shots off in our direction.

As we ploughed through another fence, leaving the destruction behind us I followed the narrow country lanes until we reached the nearest habitation. It was a small village called Stanton St Quentin, and gratefully I pulled the battered Beemer off the road and into the back car-park of the Stanton Manor Hotel.

"We'll hold up here for a bit, I think we're safe now but let's not risk it yeah?" I looked at the figure that was curled up eyes closed and shaking on the back seat, "How's that wrist, you need to go to hospital?"

She shook her head as I turned round in the seat. Carefully I took hold of her arm and felt my way along the soft skin from her forearm to her hand. The wrist was certainly swollen and looked painful but I didn't think it was broken.

"I think you'll live," I said, as I strapped it up with the small roll of bandage that every first aid kit seems to have for some reason, the one that's never usually used.

"How the fuck are you staying so calm?" she asked weakly as I stuck down the bandage with a roll of tape. "They were trying to kill us."

"Practice," I replied, matter of factly.

In fact I wasn't in the slightest bit calm, I was bouncing; I'd lived on fear and adrenaline for so long it was good to get it back. Adrenaline's like a drug and I hadn't realised I'd missed it so much. I took a quick breath to clear my head and looked back at the terrified woman.

"Are you ok now? Will you be ok here on your own for a bit? I need to go recon the area, make sure we're clear."

I got a small grimace as a response; satisfied that she was at least physically ok I told her to keep still and stay down. As she nodded in agreement I got out of the car and headed to the front of the Hotel. I spent the next ten minutes face down under a bush, watching the roads in all directions. By the end of that time I was cold, damp and convinced that we were in the clear. I took one last careful look up and down the main road before returning to the car.

One quick call to JJ and the plan was organised; I was taking Miss Fitch back to the apartment where I would meet up with him and Cook. She'd protested of course, but went silent after I pointed out that her flat in St Johns Wood would be the logical place for our opponents to pick her up again.

We'd got lucky today and I didn't believe in pushing that luck any further.

That little argument ended I dug around in the car and found a brown travel rug in the boot, perfect. I leaned in through the rear door to the woman that was still curled in a foetal position on the back seat.

"Here, cover yourself with this and keep down; this is likely to be an unpleasant journey back to London."

She pulled the rug over herself without a word and covered her head. I took off my jacket and shook the cubes of glass from it before folding it up. I prodded the bundle on the seat and the head appeared again. I held out the jacket and she looked at it as if it was made of shite.

"Use it as a pillow; it'll make you more comfortable."

I got a faint, "thanks" before the head disappeared again under the blanket, with the jacket. I closed the rear door and got into the battered cockpit, brushing glass off the seat and onto the floor; as an afterthought I shook my hair and cleared it of the bits of the side window that had lodged in it.

'_Fucking great!'_

Finally comfortable I started the engine of the car; it didn't exactly sound healthy, but it started first time and that was the main thing. We drove back to my apartment in silence; the wind billowing through the shattered windows making conversation impossible; even if we did want to talk to one another. Somewhere around Reading my day was made complete as a light rain began to fall, blowing in through the open windshield and soaking me to the bones.

o+o+o

Finally, after the worst journey I've made since Gereshk, we pulled up in the secure car park of my apartment complex getting a very funny look from the guard on duty as we did so.

Parking in my apartment's bay I helped the girl out of the back of the car and, taking pity on her, grabbed her case from the boot. If I looked a mess she looked destroyed, all signs of the cocky bitch from this afternoon had vanished. I think the journey scared the shit out of her and I guess I can't blame her for feeling that way.

"Thank you," she said simply as I closed the doors and picked up her case. I could tell she was forcing herself to speak, trying to push down the trauma and find herself again. I've been there myself and it doesn't really get any easier, you just learn to hide it better.

I hope she never has to learn how to hide it.

"I think you may have broken your car" she said eying the damage to my lovely new Beemer. The car was indeed a wreck, every panel was dented or scraped and there seemed to be half of Wiltshire in the front grill not to mention the bullet holes. I simply shrugged in response.

"It's ok; it wasn't mine in the first place."

.

.

.

**A/N –** so gunfights, hand to hand combat and now a car chase. I think I may be having far too much fun with this one…time to reign myself in again before it gets any sillier lol.

Oh and yes Hawke, I know, I know failed my limit *again*...if it will stop you teasing me the builders are moving the green room from Avalanche to here on Tuesday, you can move your slinky in then (-: 10,000, definitely no more than 10,000 (-;

...and if you haven't noticed and you fancy a bit of a Naomily break, I've finished a Keffy story 'Moving in, Moving on' it's set just after 'Avalanche' and the girls are moving into their new flat. I'd be more than happy if you took a look and tell me what you think


	10. The Eye of the Hurricane

**Close Protection**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt and a severe lack of talent. Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which makes me very upset)

**Authors Note **– Wow, you people seem to like the action chapters. Fights and car chases and no-one thinks it's got silly yet. You wait until Naomi has to save Emily from certain death strapped to the tracks of a railroad as the Hooded Claw legs it in the distance (-;

Bit of a change this time, hope it works for you guys.

**Chapter 10 – The Eye of the Hurricane**

I escorted Miss Fitch up the stairs to the small apartment I was using. She looked like microwaved shit, and had obviously decided that talking to me wasn't top of her priority list again; despite that small sign of humanity in the car park.

'_Fine by me love, I don't really want to make small talk with you either.'_

It wasn't until I closed the door on the apartment and told her to sit down that I noticed that she was shaking. Her hands were shaking violently and her body was rocking with shudders. At first I thought it was just the cold, we had just driven two hours with no windows in the car after all; the last hour or so it was pissing down with rain as well soaking us both to the skin. I was fucking freezing as well, but I'd been cold before; many times before in fact, so I just shrugged it off. Something else that I considered irrelevant; as usual I had other priorities.

"You look cold Miss Fitch; we should get you into some dry things."

She looked up at me and it was at that point I knew it wasn't just the cold that she was shaking with; I've seen people look at me with eyes like that before.

The last time she'd looked at me like that, eyes wide and unblinking, I watched a myriad of emotions pass through those big brown eyes. This time I saw nothing in them at all; absolutely fucking nothing, not even fear showed in those eyes, it was as if they were stone dead. Shock and exposure was my diagnosis and I'm not an expert at helping with that; even though I've seen its effects on more than one occasion.

I know shock never hits immediately, I know that it is only when you get to relative safety, and the adrenaline stops pumping that the fear usually hits home. I know all too well how hard that fear can strike you; and how much your mind tries to turn off to block it all out. How it does anything but think about how close you had come to death.

I know because I've been through it myself; I know because I went through it after our vehicle hit an IED on patrol outside Basra. I know all about it because I'd laughed off the fact that I'd survived unscathed; laughed along with the boys about how I had an angel looking over me because of my virtuous lifestyle. I know all about its impact because I'd collapsed in the showers two days later and didn't stop crying for three hours and never really recovered from it; not until Amy came along and gave me a reason to feel good about surviving.

I know all about shock, know all about traumatic stress; the one thing I don't know how to do is help someone else through it. I'm shit at it; I'm shit with other peoples emotions, though for some reason despite my shortcomings in this area I decided to shepherd her into the small bedroom and sit her on the bed.

"Look, let's get you out of these wet things ok?"

The figure in front of me just nodded blankly and sat there staring blankly into space.

"Here, let me help you with that," I said gallantly, and pulled at her shirt tugging it out of the skirt she was wearing. She tried to unbutton the front like a zombie, hands shaking all the while. Eventually I pushed her hands to her sides and unbuttoned her shirt myself; I noticed her staring at me and I smiled into those dead eyes.

"Don't worry, I won't look."

She blinked and nodded sharply as I peeled off her shirt shuffling her body to allow me to slide it down her arms. Despite my promise I couldn't help but sneak a peek as her bra covered breasts were revealed. I mentally slapped myself for doing it but I couldn't help myself. She really is a good looking woman; and I am, after all, only human.

Dragging my eyes from her cleavage and feigning professional disinterest, I picked up a large towel that I'd collected from the bathroom; the apartment's maid service obviously having cleaned up after my hurried shower this morning. I wrapped it carefully around her shoulders; rubbing at her arms and back as she held onto it as if it was a life preserver and she needed to stay afloat.

"Skirt as well Miss Fitch; I'll get them dried for you, don't worry."

She nodded; eyes still fixed on the wall and lifted her backside off the bed to allow me to slip her skirt down her legs. I mentally slapped myself again as I caught myself looking at her legs. They're not exactly long, but they suit her frame perfectly and there's more than a hint of muscle there; _'she works out by the looks of things, she's in pretty good shape.'_

I tried to tell myself that it was, even then, only a professional interest. That a client in good shape would be easier to protect if we had to run from danger. I also tried to convince myself that her being in good physical shape would help with the mental issues that she might suffer after the attack, I'd done a lot of exercising after my 'episode' perhaps she'd get solace in the same thing.

Finally, I admitted that I found her attractive, very attractive in fact. Story of my life really; the ones that like me I end up resenting and pushing away, the ones I like just aren't available. Not to me anyway; most of them, like her, thought I was a nutter because I was in the Army.

I stood up and looked at the forlorn shape of Emily Fitch, sat on the bed with a towel wrapped around her to protect her modesty. She was a shadow of her former, uber-bitchy, self. She was clearly in shock and that isn't a good thing for anyone to go through, let alone a civvy.

Most people just don't understand how traumatic it is to nearly lose your life; even less people know what it's like to be shot at. In the CPU I wouldn't say we'd become immune to it, but you do become a bit hardened to it after a while, and the training definitely helps. Everyone deals with the stress in a different way and Emily Fitch looked like she was an 'internaliser'; though I'd thought that in the car park earlier.

There had been a young lad in that served alongside us on the base in Basra that had been like that. He held onto everything and couldn't let it out. At least I'd managed to sob my heart out in that shower, at least I'd been able to let the emotions out somehow, find my own way of releasing the pressure; he kept them bottled up and, eventually, he'd lost it completely. The last I heard was that he'd been shipped home for a full psych-rehab; 'PTSD' stamped on his transfer papers, we'd never heard from him again.

Though however she needs to deal with the stress, I hope that it won't involve me; I hope she's not one of those people that need to be with someone when they get it all out. Gut feeling tells me that's exactly what she is though, that she's waiting for me to comfort her and help her through the pain.

There's actually a part of me that _wants_ to go over and do just that, a part that wants to wrap her in my arms and tell her everything will be ok. But as I normally do, I panic when it comes to dealing with emotional women; and, bottling it completely, I left the room, deciding to implement the military standard cure for everything; I put a wet on.

'_You chicken-shit Campbell; you should be in there comforting her and you know it! Not making fucking tea for her.'_

As I fumbled around the unfamiliar kitchen area I gave thanks that Lara had reminded me to pick up the essentials like milk, bread and tea and all that when we were shopping yesterday, otherwise I'd have been fucked. I had no plans for tonight more exciting than calling the nearest takeaway and telling them to bring me the biggest fucking pizza they had. I definitely hadn't planned on a house guest, let alone one that was shivering on my bed. Jesus, I'd only spent one day in a fucking house myself; I was struggling to get myself organised let alone deal with someone else.

As the kettle boiled I called JJ and let him know that we were home and safe, if a little shook up. I told him that Miss Fitch had been slightly hurt and wasn't one hundred percent emotionally. Promising that he'd call Cook and they'd be straight over, he hung up leaving me to wait for the kettle to finally boil. At least I felt like I was making myself useful, that was a good thing; it stopped me dwelling on how lost that brunette looked.

It stopped me kicking myself for being a cowardly bastard.

o+o+o

I brought her the hot sweet tea into the bedroom, kicking open the door as I struggled carrying the mug and her stupid fucking wheelie case. She wasn't sat on the bed any more; she was now curled up under the duvet, pulling it tightly around herself. She stared at me when I entered and I assumed from the state of her face that she'd been crying. That was good, perhaps she'd sorted herself out already; got it out of her system.

"Cup of tea?" I asked, putting her cup on a table and dropping her wheelie case to the floor. "Makes everyone feel better a good hot cup of tea does."

I cursed at my forced cheeriness, I sounded like a squaddie from the 1950's not the 2000's. She nodded and smiled weakly at me, that faint pathetic smile, the one that doesn't reach her eyes.

"You ok there?" I asked, again the simple nod, the weak smile. She's not ok, she's nowhere near ok, even I can tell that. As I look down at her I see a tear fall from her eye, then another and before I know it she's collapsed into the pillow; her eyes streaming tears, babbling to herself incoherently. Grasping my courage with both hands I climbed onto the bed and put my hand carefully onto her shoulder.

"You're safe here, you can relax now. I've called the office we'll have people with us within the hour."

To my surprise she sat up in the bed and grabbed me into a hug; tears pouring onto my already soaked shoulder. Almost instantly my body reacted as that soft skin pressed against mine. I could feel the swell of her breasts pushing into me as she gripped me as if life depended upon it and I was overwhelmed by her smell. To be honest she wasn't exactly smelling of roses after out little trip, but I didn't care. She is intoxicating, and my mind decided to go on a little panicked run around the room. Stalling for time, whilst the sensible part of my brain ran around screaming "NO, NO, NO" at the top of its voice, I patted her rather awkwardly on the shoulder in a pathetic attempt to comfort her.

"It's ok," I said, continuing to hold her and pat at her. "You're safe now, it's all ok."

She sobbed even harder and just held onto me. I'm actually surprised at myself; I _really _don't know how to handle sobbing women. Amy had called me an emotionless cow during one of our better arguments; told me that I'd be a better person if I let myself just feel now and again. I thought that was harsh, I did feel, I just kept it hidden a little. When you'd been through as much as I had you _don't_ run around with your heart on your sleeve; you just don't.

After a while the cries got a little weaker, a positive sign at least. Well at least it had been when I'd sobbed my heart out on that cold ceramic floor, the water pouring over my head diluting my tears. I'd sobbed myself to a standstill and finally, with no more emotions to let out, I'd simply sniffed, washed myself down again and pulled myself together. I hoped that she'd now do the same.

"Feeling better Miss Fitch?"

She ignored me but I took the loud sniff as a good sign and carefully disentangled myself from her.

"I'll leave your tea on the side there. Through that door's the en-suite, there's a shower and stuff in there if you want to get cleaned up."

She looked at me with those big brown eyes and she blinked at me and nodded. At least those eyes didn't look dead anymore, but they did look hurt. She's hurting and there's not a damn thing I can think of that'll make her feel better. Picking up my tea cup and taking a sip I tried to reassure her.

"I'm sure you'll be ok Miss Fitch; I'll be in the living room if you need anything."

"I'm sure I'll be fine now Miss Campbell," she suddenly snapped at me, "You can just fuck off now."

Jesus, 'mood swings-r-us' are back in full effect. On minute she's sobbing on my shoulder, the next the bitch is back. I nodded and gratefully retreated to the living room.

'_Not running away, a tactical withdrawal. Besides, she fucking hates you anyway; You're a fucking psycho, remember?'_

Busying myself again I made sure that all the doors and windows in the flat were locked, and closed all the windows and blinds. There's no sense attracting attention, or letting anyone that may have followed us to here see what's inside.

Basic security checks done I headed back into the little kitchenette and opened the freezer. I removed the ice tray and cracked out a few chunks; wrapping them in one of the tea-towels that I'd found in a drawer and crushed them by hitting the towel with a meat hammer. Holding the make-shift ice pack to my swollen eye I sat back on the sofa and waited for the cavalry to arrive, ignoring the pain in my chest; the one I didn't know what to do with.

o+o+o

Thirty five minutes later the small living room was filled with people and I was struggling to keep up with them all.

Cook and JJ had arrived first, not long after I had had finally sat down. I must have looked a bit of a mess because they'd looked at me in shock as I opened the door, ice still firmly pressed to my face.

"Jesus Naomi, you're definitely not as good looking as you were yesterday," Cook exclaimed as he regained the ability to speak.

"It's ok boss," I'd said as I closed the door behind them. "You should see the other guy."

"I heard all about him," Cook said with a smile, "two broken ribs and a fractured jaw you gave him. He was going to press charges until Rob Fitch reminded him that he attacked you first and he kept on attacking even though you gave him ample opportunity to stop. Pieter's not a happy camper at the moment, couldn't happen to a nicer boy."

He paused and looked me up and down before continuing in his soft drawl. "Anyway; fuck him, he's irrelevant; how are _you_ doing? Are you ok Naomi?"

"I'm fine boss, bit cut and bruised but no major wounds, the package is fine as well, just a bit shook up. She's resting in the bedroom now, she's had a bit of a cry but I think she'll be ok."

"That's great news Naomi, glad you both made it through ok, from what JJ told me it was pretty fucked up. We called Rob before we left, told him his daughter was safe." He looked at me with a wry grin.

"I think Rob likes you Blondie, he keeps on singing your praises to me; you managed to impress him more in one meeting than I've done in months. Not to mention this little escapade, he was practically nominating you for sainthood ten minutes ago. Good job doesn't cover it Naomi, fucking hell, great job doesn't either. It was my lucky day when JJ bumped into you and brought you aboard."

"Say that when you see the state of that nice new company car boss," I said with a smile. He laughed back at me.

"We saw it when we arrived Naomi; looks like you had yourself your own little war. Did they not teach you how to drive properly in the Military Police?"

"They did teach me to drive boss, and it was just as fucking well they did. That's the only reason that we're still alive; well that and the fact that the bad guys were idiots."

He raised an eyebrow at that and gestured for me to sit down. "Come on Naomi, spill; tell your Uncle James what happened?"

I chuckled at the glint in his eye, _'well at least he's not annoyed that I've been in the job for one day and I've already trashed the bloody car they gave me.'_

o+o+o

I spent the next fifteen minutes with the pair of them debriefing the events of the day. I told them about the meeting, about the note from Khuddam ul-Islam that Rob Fitch had shown me; the white van, the chase and our eventual escape.

We were interrupted about half way through by a knock at the door. It turned out that JJ had called a private doctor that CP use before leaving Head Office; and she had arrived as fast as she could. I showed her to the bedroom where Miss Fitch was sat on the bed; now fully clothed in a different outfit, blue sweat pants and a white vest top I noted absently. Her hair was soaking wet, she'd obviously taken advantage of the shower and got changed during my absence. I wondered for a second where she'd got the clothes from, then kicked myself as I spotted that fucking giant wheelie case open at her feet.

I introduced the Doctor and withdrew again, leaving them to it. Last thing I was capable of being was a fucking nursemaid, least of all to Emily fucking Fitch, an Emily Fitch that was busily telling the doctor that there was nothing wrong with her, the bitch in full voice.

"Oh and Doctor," I said from the doorway before I left, "in case Miss Fitch neglects to tell you, she has a badly injured wrist and she's almost certainly suffering from shock."

The doctor nodded as Miss Fitch stared at me with that familiar anger in her eyes, I simply smiled back.

"Sorry Miss Fitch, but it's my job to keep you safe, and that includes your health."

Duty done I headed back to the living room.

o+o+o

After we finished our debriefing JJ looked across at Cook, concern painted on his face.

"We're going to have to inform the authorities properly now, they know what was happening on the motorway, but they'll want to interview Naomi and probably Emily as well. This is serious James, trying to shoot up a car on a motorway. Well the last time that was done was that biker gang; that was on the M4 as well; I seem to recall that..."

"Yeah, we do JJ," Cook answered, cutting him off in mid flow. "We also need to make sure we have lawyers on hand to cover our asses. This could turn real ugly real quick if we're not careful. Naomi, when they arrive I want you to cooperate with them in every way, ok?"

I nodded and stood up, "look if you two don't mind holding down the fort, I desperately need a shower and a change of clothes before we have any more visitors. Driving in pouring rain without any windows isn't what I call fun you know?"

They nodded and returned to their talking, JJ reaching for his phone. I left the living area and walked into the main bathroom, dumping my clothes as soon as the door was shut. Being cold, wet through and stinking wasn't something unfamiliar to me after the months on the streets; it _doesn't_ mean I enjoy it though.

o+o+o

The hot water felt good as it pounded down on my skin and I took the opportunity to try out a lot of the toiletries that Lara had told me I'd find 'essential'. She'd practically bought out the Body Shop on our visit and this evening I was very glad she had.

The only problem was I had a lot of cuts and bruises from the day's exploits; I had a lot of little gashes where glass had found its way into my clothes and scraped or cut my skin. Some of those cleaning products really fucking hurt when you get them into open wounds; I mean _really_ fucking hurt. Pink grapefruit shower gel cleanser sounded like a good idea last night, felt pretty good this morning actually. Right now I wish I'd just settled for plain and boring fucking soap.

I struggled through the astringent twinges, after all I'm a big brave girl and I'd survived far worse, and ten minutes later I felt human again. The hot water has started to bring out some of the bruises and my body now aches like a bastard; the result, no doubt, of being out of condition. Unfortunately this only got worse as I towelled myself dry. My skin felt like it had been through a sand blasting, and after four combat tours in the desert I knew what that felt like.

Realising I only had my dirty clothes in the bathroom I wrapped myself in a clean white towel and headed into the living area. JJ was bumbling around in the kitchenette making some tea and I was surprised to see Miss Fitch on the sofa with Cook, his arm around her shoulders. They all looked at me as I walked in and their eyes widened as they saw how I was dressed; wrapped only in that small towel.

"What? Not seen someone in a towel before?" I asked incredulously, "Seriously LT, you've seen me in less than this before."

Cook looked at JJ in astonishment, to my surprise, Miss Fitch did the same.

_'Aw, didn't know you cared.'_

"Er, Um…it's not what you think," JJ said quickly. "We all went...well...in Basra we got access to a swimming pool and we all went swimming. That's what Sergeant Campbell means."

Cook looked at me in interest, "Skinny dipping Blondie, sounds like fun; shame I didn't get an invite."

JJ blushed and I just laughed at Cook's cheeky wink. "Not skinny dipping boss, but we didn't have any costumes. Let's just say that you don't swim in fatigues and body armour yeah?"

"Nice one Blondie, bet you looked proper good in lingerie eh JJ?"

I didn't think it was possible but JJ blushed even redder, seriously if he blushed any harder he'd explode.

"I don't think a military issue pair of shorts and a bra count as lingerie boss," I said to spare JJ his embarrassment. "I didn't exactly go into combat in a black lace bra and a thong you know."

"Really?" Cook replied as JJ and Miss Fitch looked at me. JJ with gratitude, Miss Fitch with, well, what looked like curiosity.

"Well I have to tell you Blondie that I never went into combat _without_ wearing a black lace bra and a thong."

The room collapsed around me, well Cook and JJ collapsed; Cook laughed exactly as I expected him to; JJ, as I remembered, as if someone had told him the world's funniest joke. He made me laugh did JJ, he had done when we served together. He was stiff, formal and breathtakingly naive when he first joined the CPU, Langdon and I had sorted that out pretty quickly and he learned to relax. We'd had a few good times in the heat of Iraq, yet I'd only heard him laugh like this once, maybe twice. There wasn't much to laugh about out there.

Still he obviously shared some amusing secret with Cook because he's still laughing and he looks marginally embarrassed as I stared at him; I must remember to find out about it later, as they're both totally ignoring my look of polite questioning at the moment. I chanced a look at Miss Fitch, she's sat next to Cook looking like a fish out of water; at least there's a bit of colour in her cheeks, which is more than there was before.

"Feeling better?" I threw the question in her direction, seeing if she had calmed down since her last tantrum. She didn't look at me, looked anywhere in the room but at me in fact.

"I'm fine; James has been looking after me."

"And a real pleasure it is to do so too Emily, "Cook replied cheerily squeezing her shoulders, "though you should head into the bedroom Blondie, Doctor Evans is waiting for you."

I just looked at him blankly. "Dr Evans? Tall lady, dark hair? You let her in not that long ago. Obviously she's finished with Emily here and I want you to see her, make sure you're ok."

I snorted in disgust, Doctors are not my favourite people in the world, Doctors had cost me my career, my life, everything really.

"I'm fine boss, nothing wrong with me see? All arms and legs still attached bodily functions A-Ok."

I waved my arms in the air, nearly losing the towel completely; giving the room a sight of my body that was slightly more than decorum would usually suggest appropriate. I grabbed at the falling towel as I spoke and wrapped myself up again. I'm not concerned with a bit of nudity; I'm neither ashamed of my body nor proud of it, you don't get a lot of privacy in a combat zone and after a while you just become blasé to the fact that you're partially unclothed when people walk in on you. Judging by the way Miss Fitch has her eyes screwed shut I guess she's not wired the same way. Cook and JJ just ignored it, acting as if nothing had happened.

"Blondie I'm not _asking_ you if you're ok, I'm _telling_ you to get in there and get checked out; you've got a nasty black eye coming up and there's a lot of cuts and bruises that I can see on you that look painful. I'm not having my newest member of staff go off sick because they've got an infected wound. Now hop-it Sergeant, go and get treated, that's an order."

I thought for a second about telling him to fuck off, but then I realised that he's just trying to look after me in his own way; like a Sergeant with his new troops. Sketching a sarcastic salute at his 'order' I wandered towards the bedroom and the medical ordeal I knew was coming. I had barely put my hand on the door when his voice rang out again.

"Oh and Blondie, put some clothes on, the police will be here soon and I assume you don't want to treat them to the view you've just treated us to."

I flipped him off, over my shoulder, and headed into the bedroom to the sound of his laughter.

o+o+o

Twenty minutes later I had told the doctor to _"fuck right off."_ She'd given me a clean bill of health and had cleaned out all the little wounds I had with a bottle of antiseptic and a pair of tweezers. To my surprise she'd managed to pull out about seven little pieces of glass that had been embedded in my wounds, which was good. However when the silly cow had brought out a roll of gauze tape and told me she was going to patch me up; well that was enough. There was no way I was going to be covered with little bits of sticking plaster for some small fucking grazes; so I threw her out and dragged out some clothes from the small set of drawers where I'd put my recently purchased gear.

I was halfway through getting ready when there was a tentative knock at the door.

"Yeah, come in," I practically sighed, pulling on a t-shirt over my partly brushed hair; honestly what did I have to do to get some peace around here? I looked in the mirror and saw the face of Emily Fitch appear around the door. Her eyes met mine in the mirror, just for a second and I was once again captivated by them. Even now, looking battered and broken she's a very pretty girl, rather beautiful in fact. Pity she hates me, pity she's straight, even more of a pity she's about several hundred divisions out of my league.

"James asked me to let you know the police have arrived," she said looking down at her feet. "They want to speak to you."

I nodded and stood up, dragging the brush through what remained of Franco's creation. "Thank you Miss Fitch, tell them I'll be there in a minute."

o+o+o

An hour later and the situation was _FUBAR_; firstly the coppers from the Metropolitan Police that had arrived were trying to tell me that I had fled the scene of a crime. They were actually trying to arrest me, and impound the X3, until Cook got the company lawyers on the phone and they started making calls.

The next thing I know is that it's twenty past seven in the evening and there are two assholes from the Anti-Terrorist squad giving me a hard time. I'd spent ages going over the information, answering their questions. They covered and re-covered everything, before leaving me alone and starting their questioning of Miss Fitch. After establishing that she'd not seen a lot from her position on the back seat and getting her to explain what she could tell them they'd turned their attention back to me.

It started off friendly enough, but after less than five minutes of being asked the same fucking questions the accusations started flowing.

"Miss Campbell why did you decide to flee the scene?"

I looked across at Cook who nodded at me, we'd promised to cooperate but there was no way I was getting burnt for saving our lives.

"I was being shot at, isn't that a good enough reason?"

"You've been shot at before, in the Army that is, so why did you run this time?"

Everyone in the room looked across at the younger of the two men, including his partner who looked just a little disgusted with him.

"Well haven't you?" he continued, attempting to rescue some of his dignity; at least he appeared to have done his homework on me.

"Yes I have; but back then I was usually in an armoured vehicle and oddly enough I had the ability to shoot back. Makes hanging around a hell of a lot easier when you can defend yourself."

'_Fucking muppet'_

"Besides," I continued trying to cooperate, "even in the Army, _SOP_ is to _FIDO_ and make sure the package is safe."

"Excuse me, _FIDO_?" asked the older copper, "and what do you mean by 'the package' Miss Campbell?"

I sighed at his ignorance and rubbed my eyes, it had been a long fucking day and I was sick, sore, starving and tired. Thankfully JJ came to my rescue.

"_FIDO_ is a Military term; we used it a lot in the Close Protection Unit. It was our standard procedure when we came under fire. It means, well, I'm sorry but it means 'fuck it, drive on.' You see the safety of the package, that's the VIP you're protecting, takes precedence over all things. I'm afraid to say even the lives of you and your comrades."

He took a deep breath, "I'm afraid I have to tell you Detective, everything Sergea, er…Miss Campbell did was based on her training and her desire to ensure Miss Fitch was kept safe. Making sure you've evaded the enemy and then heading for a safe location is our primary concern and that is exactly what she did. Her behaviour as far as our company is concerned was exemplary."

"I'm not convinced about that very point Mr Jones. Despite this alleged attack Miss Campbell did flee the scene of a crime and that _is_ a very serious offence; whether as you claim she was fleeing for her life or not."

"That's as maybe gentlemen," Cook interrupted, his voice calm and low. "But I assure you my lawyers will make life very difficult for you if you want to continue to threaten my employee because of her desire to keep Miss Fitch alive in the face of armed attackers. _We_ made a business decision to get Miss Fitch to a place of safety, and _we_ had already informed the authorities of what was happening. I think, gentlemen, that people may well be asking your department how an attack like this happened on an English motorway, in broad daylight..."

He paused for a second and glared at them, "...especially as it appears that Mr Fitch reported the threats against his family to you six months ago."

Well I didn't know that; and neither, by the look of surprise on her face, did Miss Fitch. I guess I understand now why Cook was desperate to get a new contract with Rob Fitch; six months of threats meant someone was getting six months of work out of the Fitch's and that might as well be us.

"We know all about the alleged threats that Mr Fitch has received. They have been thoroughly investigated and…"

"Doesn't explain why one of my staff was shot at on one of your roads though does it?" Cook interrupted him again, a hint of anger and frustration creeping into that usually soft, melodic accent. He caught a look from JJ and took a breath.

"Look, I suggest you call it a day. Miss Fitch and Miss Campbell both are exhausted and the advice of the Doctor that has just left was rest, not an interrogation that seems only to want to implicate Miss Campbell in something other than saving her own and Miss Fitch's life."

"Mr Cook we have an investigation to run, please don't impede us in our duties or we could make life very difficult for you."

The youngster again, this time he got a glare and a shake of the head from his partner

"Impede you? We've been nothing but helpful both with you and your colleagues from the Met. Miss Fitch and Miss Campbell have been extremely cooperative and my company will share all of our recordings etc with you on request. I don't think we're going to achieve any more by threatening each other gentlemen. If you want to talk to any of my staff you'll do so with our company lawyers present. I assume Miss Fitch will want to have her own lawyer present if you need to question her again."

"But..."

"I think that's everything we have to say, now I think you gentlemen should leave and let these ladies get the rest their doctor ordered."

The elder of the two officers nodded at his colleague and less than an hour after they had arrived they had gone, finally thanking us for our cooperation.

"I cannot believe they actually tried to threaten us." JJ had said as I closed the door, "That was totally out of order given the circumstances."

"They're just trying to cover their butts," Cook replied seriously, "They know they're going to get rolled for this when it gets into the media and they're looking for a diversion. I think that's the last we'll hear of them though, Amber will deal with the legal's from now on."

He picked up his phone from the table and stood up from his seat. "If you ladies would excuse me I have a couple of calls to make. I guess you'll both be tired and hungry; JJ why don't you give somewhere a call and get these ladies something to eat."

"I should be getting home; I've got an important meeting in the morning. I need to prepare for it. I can't stay here tonight, this is too important."

I looked across at Miss Fitch, I think that's the most I've heard her say all evening.

"I don't think that's a good plan at the moment Miss Fitch," JJ told her.

"JJ's right, not a chance Emily, we are not letting you out of our sight until we get to hand you over to someone your Father trusts. Blondie over there accepted responsibility for you back in Bath and we take that role very seriously."

'_Fucks sake, it looks like I'm stuck with her.'_

Cook winked at me again and vanished outside onto the small balcony. I watched briefly as he lit a cigar and spoke animatedly into his phone before I settled back into my seat and relaxed.

"So ladies, what is it to be?" JJ asked flourishing a handful of leaflets in our direction, "Pizza, Chinese, curry, Thai, Turkish? Though I question the authenticity of what we call kebabs here in the UK but..."

"Anything JJ, I haven't eaten all fucking day and I'm starving." I looked across at the brunette who was sat on the sofa. "Miss Fitch, you're the guest, you decide."

"Chinese." She said sullenly looking across at JJ. He passed over a menu from the pile and she glanced through it before passing it to me. I gave JJ my order and excused myself, headed for the bedroom and some peace and quiet. As I sat on the edge of the bed, dabbing a wet towel at my swollen eye I heard the door open and looked over to see Emily Fitch stood framed in the doorway.

"Miss Campbell, I just wanted to..."

"BLONDIE!" the loud voice of a happy sounding James Cook reverberated around the flat, "have you got a minute?"

I closed my eyes in despair, one moment of peace I had been looking forward to and in the blink of an eye Cook had disturbed it. When I opened them again and looked up the doorway was empty; whatever she _"wanted to"_ was lost to history. Taking one deep breath I strode back outside to see Cook stood there with a grin on his face.

"Naomi," he said as he saw me. "I've just been speaking to Rob Fitch; he asked if you would provide a close protection escort for Emily here during the negotiations she's undertaking tomorrow. I've told him you'd be happy to do so."

'_Great another day with the moody-bitch'_

"Emily I have a message to you from him as well. He says, 'remember our parting conversation today, the same applies now.' I assume you understand that, he was a bit cryptic I'm afraid."

She nodded and slumped down on the sofa, Cook looked over at me and I shrugged in response. I knew what he meant, I shouldn't, but my eavesdropping had served me again.

"_This time I'm putting my foot down,"_ he had said to her; _"you will have an escort back to London. I can't risk you or this contract, do you understand?"_

She had backed down when he said that to her then, and it looked like she had backed down now. I could tell that she wasn't happy about it; every aspect of her body language screamed 'pissed off;' I doubted Cooks next line would have cheered her up either.

"Emily, Rob's asked if Naomi would mind putting you up for the night and escorting you to the office in the morning. He's going to send a car for you both first thing so you can call by your flat to get any bits you need for the meeting. I'll arrange for one of my team to check it out and make sure it's safe before you arrive."

"I'll do it," JJ said nodding enthusiastically, "if that's ok with you Emily?"

She nodded again, totally crestfallen, and dug into her pocket for a set of keys which she threw over to JJ. She looked as if she'd just been sentenced to death, her eyes bleak. Cook totally failed to notice this in his excitement and looked across at me smiling his cheesiest grin.

"Blondie, Rob's also told me he'll have to rescind your invitation to his party on Friday, he's asked me to ensure that you're there in a professional capacity instead, looking after Emily here; of course I said you would."

As I stood there and stared at Cook in astonishment I could feel her eyes boring into me. I turned slowly to look at her and met the big brown eyes that had until recently been staring at the floor. Now she was simply glaring at me; the look of contempt and disgust back in her eyes. The same look she gave me when first we'd met earlier that morning.

'_Fucking great Cook, what have you got me into now?'_

.

.

.

**A/N –** So there you go, time for a calm down and a bit of character interaction…don't seem exactly well matched do they? Ah well, perhaps things will change in time (-:

Sorry it's been a bit later than usual...had a PC to rebuild, bloody virus writers!


	11. A Morning Truce?

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt and a severe lack of talent. Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which makes me very upset)

**Authors Note **– hello, couldn't sleep it's currently 5:30am here in the UK as I type this and I really should be in bed. I hate insomnia, especially when it's caused by FFN screwing up my Easter egg in PfP...ooh it made me grumpy, mainly because I forgot it was going to happen and spent the next hour kicking myself for my stupidity )-:

Anyway, to relax and cheer myself up I did some polishing and here's the result, Chapter 11 of CP...let's see how badly lack of sleep can screw this one up eh? Right are you all still wanting more action or can you cope with a few more chapters of good old fashioned Naomily interaction?

No? Well you know what they called it when Naomi was in the army don't you...tough! (-;

**Chapter 11 – A Morning Truce? **

We sat and ate the Chinese takeaway in stony silence. Cook and JJ had just left, leaving me alone in the flat with the ice-maiden. She hadn't said a word to me since Cook's little announcement, hadn't even moved from her spot on the sofa in fact; hadn't even looked at me when I passed across her food.

Our meal finished, I took the dishes from the table and started clearing up. With all the shit that had gone on it was now nearing ten o'clock and I was starting to feel tired; it had, after all, been an early start and a pretty eventful day.

So it's now Wednesday night and I've just discovered that I'm going to be working for Miss Emily Fitch for at least the next couple of days.

_'Fucking great!'_

I'm glad of the work, don't get me wrong; and I suspect now that this kind of escort duty is exactly why Cook wanted me in the company, why he wanted me to go and see Rob Fitch in the first place. Here was I thinking that they all recognised my talent and thought that I'd be able to get the big deal with Rob himself, and then it dawned on me; all they really wanted was to provide a female bodyguard to his fucking daughters.

That's one way to shatter a girl's ego.

Still I'd done well today, I know I had. Forget about keeping Miss Fitch alive, that's bog standard protection work. No, I'd managed to impress Rob Fitch; I know I had. I suspect that there's a crack in the doorway that Cook is going to plant his size ten boot into and kick open. I'm hoping that we'll win some serious business there, let them know how valuable I can be.

"Do you want to stay here tonight or are we going back to my place?"

My mind snapped from its playback of applause and cheering in the office, celebrating our massive new contract and back onto the brunette that had graced me with her attention.

"Sorry?" I asked, sort of distracted by her comment. I've got a sound bite of Amy going through my head, asking me pretty much the same question on that drunken night in Ibiza; and it's kind of disconcerting because what happened after that was pretty fucking amazing.

"I said, do you want to stay here tonight or are we going back to my place?" She shook her head at me as if I was stupid. "Seeing as my father decided to put _you_ in charge of my fucking life."

"Miss Fitch," I replied, a little snottily, "I don't know what you father or anyone else may have told you, but if I'm protecting you that's all I'll do. I'm not your nursemaid, your servant, your mother or your guardian. I can assure you I have no interest in being in charge of your life. My only concern is your safety and unless you do something that impinges on that safety you can do what the heck you like."

She stared back at me, was I imagining things or were those eyes a little softer?

"So if I wanted to go back to my flat I could?"

"If you insisted on it Miss Fitch, yes. However as I said earlier today I think it would be foolish to go back there today. If those people are serious, and it seemed they were, that would be the first place to try and pick you up."

I yawned, covering my mouth as I did so, "That's what I'd do anyway, stake out your home or your office and wait for you there."

Her eyes narrowed, "So I'm stuck here, with you?"

If you don't want to put yourself at risk, then yes. Perhaps the risk will be lessened after the negotiations Cook mentioned tomorrow; and things can go back to normal. I don't think it was a coincidence that that attack happened today."

She spent a bit of time thinking about this, obviously considering the evidence. At least I was able to be honest, I didn't have to lie to her; I did think that the attack must have had something to do with the meeting she mentioned to Rob back in the house. Idle threats are one thing, but you can only stretch coincidence so far before it comes crashing down around your shoulders.

No, it seemed more likely that the attack on Miss Fitch was designed to either scare her off the meeting with India's Border Security Force, or kill her and get Fitch Industries to pull out of the deal. Either way it had failed.

"I don't know why my dad even asked you to look after me."

"Perhaps it's because he wants to keep you alive, or perhaps he just wants to screw me, like his secretary." I answered quickly. Her head snapped up and she stared straight at me, her eyes wide.

"You heard that?"

"Miss Fitch, most of the staff in your house heard that conversation, or would have done if I hadn't sent them away."

"How much did you hear?" she snapped, suddenly looking angrily at me.

"Enough to know you aren't happy with me being assigned to protect you, enough to know what you really think of me Miss Fitch. Enough to know that, for someone that's supposed to be keeping her father's secrets, you have a very loud voice when you're angry."

"Yeah well, you weren't supposed to hear that; fucking spying on us, who do you think you are?"

I just looked at her and raised an eyebrow in amusement as she paused in her tirade for a second before continuing; her voice now lower and calmer. "You shouldn't judge him you know, or me for that matter, that wouldn't be fair. It's not as simple as you think."

I had to sigh at that, it's sad really that someone can think so little of someone they've never met before and barely spoken to.

"Miss Fitch it's not my _job_ to judge you, or your father. It's my job to keep you safe and that's _all_ I'm interested in doing. What's _really_ unfair is to judge someone you don't know and you've barely spoken to."

She looked across at me, "I don't know what you mean," she said sheepishly; her eyes telling me differently.

"You called me a psycho Miss Fitch; that's judgemental and that's not fair. You're also assuming that I'm making some kind of moral judgement on you and Mr Fitch and that's not fair either."

She looked abashed for a second before turning on me again. "You nearly killed Pieter," she accused, totally ignoring the main part of my defence.

"He tried to kill me Miss Fitch, you heard him. I was simply defending myself. He had every opportunity to stop but he chose not to, probably saw me as a vulnerable female that he could humiliate or hurt. I didn't want to hurt him, he made me hurt him. Please remember that."

She didn't look convinced, I'm not that surprised to be honest, a lot of people I've met can't separate the role from the person, why should she be any different? Some people just see you as a thing, a soldier, and not a person that's just doing a job. What's worse, they assume you're the same as every bad soldier that they've ever read about; angry, bloodthirsty...a psychopath with a gun, trained to kill and very little else. I'd had drinks thrown in my face in bars for answering the question, _"so what do you do?"_ with nothing but honesty. Everyone assuming that I'm some kind of baby murdering nutter because I'm a squaddie. Well that's not me, and it's not anyone else I knew in the Army, yeah you get your meatheads, but they get drummed out pretty quickly; usually after we'd made them serve some time in the glasshouse.

Today's army is a professional unit and I'm proud of my service. If it wasn't for Gereshk I'd still be serving, doing my duty the way I'd signed up to do. I'm a professional and that's what she's going to get from me; professionalism, nothing more nothing less. I took a deep breath and prepared to give her a speech it seems like I've given variants of a hundred times before, on a hundred different escort missions.

"Miss Fitch let's understand one another please. I don't care what you think of me; I know you dislike me and that's fine. Lots of people I've protected didn't actually like me. I'm not paid to be liked; I'm paid to do my job. All I need is for you to trust me when I tell you something is for your own good, that's all. Now Miss Fitch, if you don't mind it's been a really long and stressful day and I think we both need to get some shut-eye."

I left her to her thoughts and went into the bedroom and rummaged about in the cupboards, sure enough I found an extra pillow and some blankets. I grabbed them and some personal bits and wandered back out into the living room; tossing the gear onto the floor before wandering back into the bedroom to grab some clothes from the dresser. When I returned Miss Fitch was staring at the pile of bedding.

"Right then, if you don't mind giving me a bit of peace I'll get my head down. If you need anything to sleep in help yourself to the clothes in the drawers, they're all new."

She looked at me blankly.

"Go to bed Miss Fitch, please."

"I can't take your bed," she said finally understanding what I meant and looking down at the floor, "that wouldn't be right either."

"Miss Fitch, until two days ago I was sleeping on the floor in a worse place than this. I'm a guest here as much as you are. Take the bed and leave me in peace please, I'll feel better if I'm closer to the door; just in case someone tries to get in."

I ended the conversation by sorting out my bedding and wandering around the house double checking everything was locked. I made a quick call to the flats porter, asking him to ring up if anything odd happened, no matter how small he thought it might be, and then headed for the bedroom. Finding the door shut I knocked lightly and waited for her to answer.

"You can come in."

I opened the door and walked into the bedroom, she'd already dived under the covers, her clothes a pile on the floor.

"Last minute checks," I said walking over to the window and making sure it was locked shut.

"If you need anything, or if you hear anything untoward, you call me Miss Fitch ok?"

"I will," she replied softly. As I walked towards the open doorway I heard her call me again.

"Miss Campbell?" I turned to look at her, "I do trust you ok? After today I'd trust you with my life...again that is."

'_Fuck me.'_

I stood in the doorway and nodded, before stepping into the living room and pulling the door shut behind me. Perhaps my life had just got a little bit easier.

o+o+o

"_Miss Campbell, Miss Campbell...fucks sake...NAOMI WAKE UP!"_

I'm dragged from another nightmare by a voice from the heavens. I've no idea who it is or where I am, but for the first time ever someone in my dream has driven the faces away. As I pull myself back towards consciousness I realise I'm being shaken and my name is being called. I opened my eyes to see the concerned face of Miss Fitch looking down at me.

"What's wrong?" I asked quickly realising suddenly where I am and who I'm with, "Did you hear something?"

She snorted at me in disgust; all hints of the concern that had been written across her face now vanished. "Only you screaming out guys names. You scared the _shit_ out of me. I thought we were being attacked again."

"Really? Sorry."

Two words, not really enough for scaring her; so much for being fucking professional. Her eyes softened at my apology. Jesus this girl really does have serious mood swing issues.

"It's ok, are you all right?"

"I'm fine," I replied sitting up, allowing the blankets to fall around my waist. "Bad dreams that's all." I looked at the clock on the wall, it was only half four in the morning. _'Jesus'_

"Go back to bed Miss Fitch, I'm sorry to have disturbed you." The dismissal was plain; she paused and looked at me for a second, before leaving me and heading back to her room.

I sat in the darkness for what felt like ages, just thinking. I felt a little bit guilty about what I'd just done; she was only making sure I was ok after all. But I just couldn't bring myself to let her see my weakness. Every time I woke up after a nightmare I felt drained and scared. They had been haunting me for so long now it was actually a shock to have seen the faces dissolve before they could speak, before that mass of people, my comrades, my friends could torment me with their accusations.

As I drifted off to sleep again I could feel a faint smile cross my lips as a new face came to haunt me. A face with a cute button nose, brown hair and brown eyes that I could swim in. Swim in forever, happily drown in.

'_Emily….what a lovely name, suits her.'_

Her face was the last thing I saw before sleep engulfed me once more.

o+o+o

I was woken up by the alarm on my phone screeching away like a miniature klaxon telling me it was six in the morning. As I wiped the crusts of sleep from my eyes I stretched and dragged myself awake. Climbing out of the duvet I headed for the kitchen and put on the kettle before heading for the shower.

As I felt the water pound my skin I took stock of my feelings. I was attracted to the woman I was supposed to be protecting. That's not on, I can't allow myself to think and feel like that. Fucks sake I'd only been out of the Army for a few months, I can't have lost my professionalism that easily.

I turned the water onto freezing cold and stood there, allowing the cold water to freeze my skin. Only when my lips felt blue and my teeth were chattering did I turn it off and reach for the towel. The cold felt good, made everything seem clear.

'_Professional Naomi, just be professional; that's all you have to do.'_

o+o+o

I left the bathroom having pulled on the clothes I'd worn for bed that evening. My love affair with the bed and mattress combo had been reawakened during my night on the floor; and I made a note that any flat I rented would have a proper guest room. I can only assume that the designers thought that a luxury flat needed an en-suite _and_ a proper bathroom to suit the demands of the modern yuppie that bought this kind of place.

It only dawned on me that the funny bits in the bath, the ones that I kept standing on whilst I showered, were actually nozzles for a posh whirlpool bath long after I'd got dressed. I made plans to investigate that feature if at all possible that evening. A good workout in the gym, a long swim and a whirlpool bath seemed like the perfect end to what was likely to be a very stressful day.

When I'd left the bathroom I'd almost literally bumped into Miss Fitch. She was dressed and looking as if she was about to leave the flat.

"Going somewhere?"

At least she had the good grace to look ashamed of herself.

"I was, I...erm. I was..."

"Trying to leave," I interrupted her floundering. "I know Miss Fitch. I'm not stupid. Look, please sit down, make yourself a drink and let me get dressed. I promise I won't hold you up any longer than I have to.

"You're not, it's..." she tailed off as if unsure how to continue.

"Miss Fitch, please sit down," I sighed. "Don't make my job any harder than it already is."

She looked at me oddly and turned to flop down on the sofa. I wondered why I'd actually said what I'd said. It was the truth after all, but I had no idea why I'd used those particular words. For some strange reason she didn't seem to take offence though; just seemed to accept it and move on. I was puzzled, last night she'd have probably tore my head off for saying something like that, this morning she just took it in her stride.

"I'm just going to quickly get dressed then. I'll call JJ as well and make sure your flat is safe."

She nodded in reply and I headed for the bedroom, making sure I didn't close the door behind me so I could hear her if she tried to leave. Thankfully she didn't and I could hear her banging around in the kitchen as I hurriedly dragged the straighteners through my 'frizzed to hell and back' hair. I called JJ, only getting his answering machine; I left a message and quickly applied some make up whilst I waited for JJ to call me back.

"Milk and sugar?"

The question came out of the blue, as did she; suddenly appearing in the doorway.

"Are you making tea or coffee?" I asked carefully.

"I was making tea, unless you want coffee."

"Don't like coffee, not first thing in the morning anyway. Tea would be great, milk no sugar please."

She nodded and walked away, heading back to the kitchen. I heard the clinking of spoons against cups and concentrated on finishing getting ready.

Five minutes later I'm dressed, feeling human and looking ok, the look isn't improved by the swollen and bruised eye, that no amount of makeup could disguise, and all the minor cuts on my face that yesterdays drive home presented me with.

Frankly I looked worse after one day in the company of Emily Fitch that I did in the whole of my time in the CPU, barring Gereshk of course. I wondered if I'd look too much of a cliché if I bought myself some sunglasses with some protective type lenses; at least then I'd have something to protect my eyes in the future.

'_Yeah you do that Naomi, you'd look totally badass you tosser!'_

I decided if I did do that I'd get a pair with clear lenses, sunglasses inside would be just too much. Cook might be able to pull it off, but I doubted I would be able to do it without laughing my head off.

Shoving some concealer into my shoulder bag I headed outside to see Miss Fitch sat on the sofa a large mug of tea in her hand watching the breakfast news.

"I left your tea on the counter," she said, her voice level. I picked it up as I walked past and sat on one of the chairs taking a sip.

"Anything happening?" I asked nodding at the television.

"The usual, war, death and destruction," she replied bleakly. "Another suicide bomber in Pakistan and more deaths in Afghanistan."

"Our boys?" I asked, "do you know what unit?"

"No another village hit by bombs; the Americans called in an air strike and something went wrong…again. Fucking typical, another waste of lives."

She glared at me as if it was my personal responsibility that it had happened, I simply grimaced. I'd seen and heard about this kind of mistake whilst I was over there. It's easy to criticise when your thousands of miles away from the situation.

"_Oh but they have smart bombs and intelligent weapons technology and everything like that, how could this happen in this day and age?"_ the 'do gooder's' would wail.

Well, you try using all that kit perfectly when you're fighting for your life and the shit isn't just hitting the fan, it's landing all around you from a very great height. The shit that had rained down on us more than once doesn't just stink, it blows your fucking limbs off. Because of things like this, unfortunately, in combat accidents do happen; it doesn't mean we don't regret them happening, of course we do. We hated hearing about every mistake like that, hated the loss of life, hated the thought of innocents being hurt as a result of our actions; hated it because we knew it meant the locals would turn against us once more. We wanted to help bring about peace, and win the hearts and minds of the people we were trying to help.

It's not our fault that the Taliban wanted to use the very same people they claimed to be fighting for as human shields. The allied forces had lost a lot of good men trying to save civilian lives, attacking with real people capable of differentiating friend from foe rather than take the easy option of carpet bombing a Taliban position back to the stone age.

I kept all this to myself though, I didn't want to break the uneasy truce that seemed to have developed overnight between us by giving her something else to have a go at me for.

"I think it's terrible the way that innocent peop…"

I was rescued by the phone going off in my pocket; thank the gods for JJ. After a quick conversation he confirmed that Miss Fitch's flat was indeed safe and that he was parked outside; watching the street for anything suspicious just in case. He also told me that the car Mr Fitch had arranged for was on its way to pick us up.

"Good news," I said cheerily as I put away the phone, hoping to dispel the gloom that had descended on the room. "JJ says your flat is clear and your driver is on his way over to take us there."

"Good, I can't wait to get home."

I took a sip of my tea and ignored the slight barb in her voice. She knew why we'd wanted her not to go home, that should be the end of it.

"I need to get changed, I can't go to the meeting dressed like this," she continued; perhaps sensing that things were changing for the worse.

"Dunno why, you look ok to me." She did as well, smart black business suit, white blouse and heels. It all looked very expensive as well, not that I'm an expert but some things just ooze quality, and quality like that doesn't come cheap.

"Oh and you're an expert are you Miss Campbell?" She looked across at me and blushed, "sorry, that was uncalled for."

"Miss Fitch I told you last night, I know you don't like me and that's fine. All I need for you to do is trust me; and trust me you look fine."

"It's not that I don't like you Miss Campbell, I just don't like what you stand for."

I'm kind of shocked, no actually I'm just plain shocked; I never realised I stood for anything, not really.

"Oh," I manage to utter, rather stupidly I think as my brain tried to work out what it is she thinks I stand for .

"I mean you're all the same aren't you, ex-military types. War is just a big game to you isn't it? Killing people is nothing to you lot; it's what you're trained for isn't it?

Look at you, you burst into a meeting I'm having with Dad and you pull a fucking gun. Miss Campbell you're just like every other ex-military dickhead I've had to deal with you've got too much testosterone."

Right, so the truce is over is it? That's me definitely told, put in my place, stuck in the box marked 'Military Nut-Jobs.' The trouble is I don't fit into that box, I don't fit into any boxes; I never have done. I've never allowed someone to label me like that. Not even _Amy_ was allowed to label me like that, and she'd got closer to me than anyone before or since. She'd tried of course, tried to label me as girlfriend, partner, and at one stage - fucking fiancée. But I don't do labels, I'm more than someone's fucking label. Being labelled as something always just made me angry; in fact I can feel my blood start to boil just a little bit right now, because Emily Fitch having a go at me for what I did, with what she does for a living, is pretty fucking hypocritical.

I was about to go on a full scale tirade when I remember that I'm actually now working for her father and I promised myself I'd be professional. So I took a long deep breath calming myself before speaking. Planning how to get my punches in without getting myself the sack and ending up back on the streets.

"Miss Fitch, yesterday you accused me of judging you and your father and told me it wasn't fair; but you're doing exactly that, judging me; judging all soldiers. You have a false impression of what military people are like. Military people are like me and Cook and JJ; we're just normal people that are doing a job. I was in the Military Police for Christ's sake, it was my job to keep order; yet you accuse me of being some kind of mindless killing machine. I've only ever used my weapon to defend myself Miss Fitch, to keep me and the people around me alive, whoever they are. I'm a professional, all I've ever done is my job."

"But you've killed people haven't you?" she snapped back. I sighed and nodded; that's something I can't deny.

"Yeah, I've killed people, do you want me to feel guilty for doing what I did? You can't Miss Fitch, you can't make me feel any more guilt than I already do. I was doing a job, just like you do. How many people have been killed as a result of your deals Miss Fitch? We've both killed, in our own ways. It doesn't make us good people, but it doesn't make us bad people either."

I looked at her and saw her eyes start to fill with tears; she turned her back on me suddenly, I guess the truth hurts more than a little. Then I remembered what I'd been told yesterday by Alan the security guard.

_"Rumour has it she's not exactly in love with what she does."_

"Anyway," I said trying to break the silence again, change the subject if I could. "Like I said, you don't have to like me Miss Fitch, you don't even have to like what you think I stand for. But please, judge me on what I do, not what you _think_ I'm capable of doing.

Now, if you'd like, we'll go and see if your car has arrived and get you home and on to your meeting. Then we can discuss what you want to do for the rest of the day and how I can best protect you during it."

I led her out of the flat and down the stairs in silence. We had nothing to say, both processing the hurtful words that we'd said to each other. I checked that the little guest car park at the front of the building was safe before escorting Miss Fitch out and into the waiting car. Checking, of course, the drivers credentials before I allowed her to get in. It's not that I don't trust anyone, it's just that...well I don't take anything on face value. Iraq, Afghanistan and London's fucking streets had taught me the value of that.

As she climbed into the back of the huge car, I got into the passenger seat up front. I caught a look from her out of the corner of my eye as I pulled on my seatbelt; but she continued with the silent treatment. I'm actually really hurt that she thinks so little of me, despite not even knowing me. I don't know why it hurts so much, it's not like It's the first time I've been faced with an attitude like hers.

_'Fuck off Naomi, you know exactly why it hurts, you like her, you _really_ like her.'_

and with that disconcerting thought floating through my head we set off to St John's Wood and the place that she called home.

.

.

.

**A/N –** we starting to learn a bit more about these two yet? Actions becoming a bit clearer? Hope you now understand what Naomi meant by 'the next level' back in chapter two...surely she can't have wanted to push Amy away because of that...

lol (-:


	12. Trapped in a Moment

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt and a severe lack of talent. Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which makes me very upset)

**Authors Note **– Thanks again for the kind words, sorry it's later than usual got caught up in my other story for some reason. Only go to this yesterday. I'm trying something new for me here, it's a little daunting...hope you like it.

Dunno if I should mention it, but perhaps a Ladyhawke inspired 'dark places' warning is in order, this isn't a totally happy chapter folks; but it is a necessary one I hope you'll agree.

**Chapter 12 – Trapped in a Moment**

The drive to St John's Wood was conducted in mostly silence, the driver of the car attempted to engage me in conversation a few times, but I was too busy looking for trouble to pay him any real attention; in fact he was beginning to bug me.

"So how long have you worked for the Fitch family?" He asked cheerily, taking his eyes off the road to look at me for the umpteenth time in the last ten minutes.

"I don't." I answered shortly, "and I'd appreciate it if you kept your eyes on the road and off my fucking tits."

"Well excuse me," he muttered indignantly finally fixing his eyes on the traffic in front of him.

I had already stopped listening to him, instead concentrating on a black Renault people carrier that had tailed us for the last few minutes. Suspicious aroused I adjusted the rear view mirror so that I could use it to keep it in view.

"Oi, stop that." the driver protested.

"Shut up and do as I tell you," I said quickly, watching as the Renault moved through the traffic keeping a careful pace with our car, four vehicles back. "Take a left as soon as you can and then keep turning left until we get back on this road again ok?"

" Yes _fucking_ Ma'am, what did your last slave die of?"

"Do as your fucking told or pull over and I'll fucking drive ok?"

"Trouble?" came a quiet voice from the back of the car.

"Probably not, but after yesterday let's take no chances ok? Five minutes wasted here won't kill us, ignoring shit might."

"Do as she tells you Paul, don't argue with her."

"Yes Miss Fitch."

Miss Fitch went quiet again as the chastened driver followed my instructions to the letter. Sure enough the black Renault followed us around the first left turn, and the second but to my surprise carried straight on at the third.

Odd...certainly the driving was unusual.

I doubted it could be a coincidence that the car wanted to do a U-Turn at exactly the same time as us; more likely that they'd realised what we were doing and broke off the tail. Just in case I told the driver to avoid the main road and take us the back route to Miss Fitch's address.

"That'll take a lot longer," he'd complained.

"It'll be a lot safer," I'd said, ending the conversation there.

The rest of the trip passed uneventfully, I'd like to say that I had the chance to relax, but I was a hyped up as I had ever been when I was on patrol in 'Butlins'. I gave JJ a quick call as we got nearer and he confirmed that the flat and street were all clear; and it was with a brief sense of relief I told him that we were heading in.

o+o+o

Miss Fitch's flat was just as I expected it to be, neat and tidy and pretty much empty of anything that could tell me anything about her. In fact it's pretty much like the place I'm living in at the moment, practically a fucking show home. Even my room in the barracks had more life than this, and we were inspected on a regular basis.

There's literally nothing here, not even a photograph; at least I had a few pictures of the original gang in my old room, my favourite one being of us all in Basra, posing in our fatigues in front of a Land Rover just before we went out on patrol. I made a note to find that picture, make sure it wasn't lost in the boxes of stuff that I'd paid to put into long term storage before I left the Army. When I finally had my own place to put it all in that was, yet another thing to add to my list of 'things to do' find somewhere to live.

"Nice," I said as I stood in her living room and looked out of the window staring across the houses towards the floodlights of Lords that dominated the skyline a couple of streets over.

"It's ok," she replied, startling me somewhat that she was actually listening to me. "I'm never here really, I'm usually at the house or away on business. It's really just somewhere to put my clothes when I'm in town."

"Shame, seems like a nice area, convenient for the cricket."

"Yeah, it is. Shame I hate cricket though isn't it? Boring fucking sport."

I shrugged and dropped the subject. I thought it had been too good to last; that had been close to a polite conversation between us and shit, that would _never_ do would it?

I heard her muttering to herself as she wandered around the flat, but my attention was drawn elsewhere. Pulling into the street opposite was a black people carrier, more specifically a black Renault with a licence plate that matched the one I'd made a note of earlier. I watched as it pulled into a space opposite the building and the rear window rolled down. I caught a flash of light reflecting off a piece of glass inside and I dived for cover.

"Miss Fitch get down on the floor wherever you are." I shouted, kicking myself for my carelessness. I crawled carefully over to the window and dragged across the curtain, obscuring the view from the sniper, waiting for the inevitable shots to come through the window. Shots that miraculously didn't come.

Taking a chance I got to my feet and ran into the hallway to find my charge; she was lying on the floor in the main bedroom and quickly I ran over and pulled the curtains tight shrouding us in darkness.

"Stay here and stay down ok?" I told her, checking the room to make sure she'd be safe in here. "I'm going to see what's going on."

I walked back into the living room and grabbed my phone from the side, as I stepped up to the window I put it on speaker and dialled my colleague outside.

"Hi Sarge, everything ok?"

"No LT it isn't, can you see a black people carrier outside?"

"Not from here Sarge," he confirmed, "you think there's a problem?"

"Not sure LT, I saw that black car behind us on the way here, but I thought we'd given it the slip, now it's back and it's just pulled up outside the building. I saw a lens flash from the rear, they were definitely pointing something at this window, but I couldn't see what. I'm exposed here JJ, if they've got someone on the rooftops we could be in trouble"

"Stay on the line Naomi, I'll do a walk past, where are they?"

"They're opposite the side entrance to the building, the one that looks towards the cricket ground." I chanced a look through a crack in the curtains, "they're still there now. Black Renault, registration plate is Kappa Foxtrot, Zero Niner, Papa Hotel Golf."

"Got it," I heard him say, "looking now."

"Be careful LT, don't give yourself away."

"No problems Naomi, I've learnt a few tricks from Cook over the last year."

I watched as his figure came into view on the footpath the car was parked on, phone pressed to his ear; a cocky, almost jaunty bounce to his walk, James Cook to the T.

"Yeah, so anyway I said, look honey if you're not prepared to put out, why the fuck have I been buying you drinks all night...yeah mate, that's what I thought, fucking cheek right...nah, dumped her like a hot rock and went and found some other slapper in the club, turned out all right as it happens...yeah mate you fucking know it, right little goer she was as well...too fucking right, first thing in the morning, you know the score mate, no number no regrets, no fucking child support..."

I listened as JJ talked shit down the phone to his imaginary friend and hoped for Effy's sake that wasn't how Cook really behaved. I saw him walk past the car and take a surreptitious glance inside as he did so. I followed his motions until he turned the corner and moved out of sight.

"Can't see a weapon Sarge, but they have got a long lens unit in the back. Didn't you mention that Rob Fitch had been sent surveillance photo's?"

"That's right LT, bloody good ones as well. You think these guys might be the same people?"

"Better safe than sorry Sarge, I'll get the office to call the Police, after yesterday they might be willing to do something this time. Stay tight, don't take any risks and assume the worst ok? Make sure Emily is safe!"

"Willco. Don't leave me hanging JJ, let me know what's going on ok?"

"Sure thing Naomi, stay off the phone just in case," he finished, the line going dead. I glanced out of the window once more and saw the lens flash again as I did so. Someone in that vehicle was watching this window carefully, far too carefully.

"Is everything ok Miss Campbell?"

Her voice drifted in faintly from the bedroom, well at least she was following my instructions again, at least she was sensible enough to realise I didn't fuck around.

"Not sure yet, stay put." I said, trying to keep my voice calm and relaxed. Carefully I walked around her tiny home, and closed curtains and blinds in all of the rooms, once again hiding the two of us from the outside world. Finally I pulled a chair in front of her door and barricaded it just in case, before joining her in the bedroom.

"What's happening?" she asked, "Are we in danger?"

"I have no idea Miss Fitch. We're waiting on the Police now."

"Police, why?"

So many fucking questions for someone so small, after all the silent treatment I guess it's nice; but honestly I wish she'd just shut up and let me do my job.

"There's a car outside, it looks like the one that I thought was following us earlier. I saw a flash from the back when I was looking at it and thought the worst. JJ says they've only got a camera inside and it looks like it's trained on your window. The office is calling the police just in case. We're vulnerable here, there are lots of high vantage points for snipers, and we haven't got an escape route other than the front door and the fire escape. I knew we should have come."

"I'm sorry," she said to me, her voice sounding genuinely upset, "this is my fault isn't it. If I hadn't been such a stubborn bitch about coming back here we wouldn't be in danger."

I felt sorry for her, again, it's been a tough period of time recently and I can tell she's struggling to adapt. She's quite obviously and quite naturally out of her depth, I can't fault her for that. Even though she's absolutely correct in her assumption, grudgingly, I decide to cut her some slack.

"It's not your fault Miss Fitch. Look, for that vehicle to get on our tail it must have picked up the car _before_ we left the apartment; probably tracked it from the office to my place. Unless someone leaked where you were that is, then it would be even simpler to follow us, they'd just have watched you get in and tracked us to here. So it really doesn't matter if we came here, or went straight to your offices or drove to your home in the country, they would have still been able to follow us. Ok?"

She nodded and I was left to think about my words, it wasn't quite the truth, I hadn't seen the black Renault after we made the second left turn, hadn't seen any suspicious vehicles in fact and yet they had made it to her flat as if knowing we would be here. Somewhere in Fitch Industries they had a leak, or at the very least they had someone with a careless tongue. Just one more thing to think about if we did get the contract to look after their security.

"So what do we do now Naomi?"

I hesitated as, for the first time I can remember, she used my first name. It sounded so much nicer on her lips than 'Miss Campbell'. Somehow softer, less aggressive, less full of contempt.

"Well, we follow orders, sit tight and wait to hear from JJ I guess; not a lot else we can do really. You holding up ok?"

"I guess so, this is all so strange. I've never had anyone try to kill me before."

"We don't know that anyone is trying to kill you now Miss Fitch, this could all be nothing more than a surveillance operation, it could even be a big misunderstanding; I could just be paranoid, but I'm not taking any chances with your safety, not after what happened yesterday."

"I guess I owe you my thanks again Naomi…look about this morning...I didn't, well; I'm sorry, you were right, I was being unfair."

I shrugged, in truth a little uncomfortable under her gaze.

"Miss Fitch it doesn't matter, you've got your opinions and I guess you've got your own reasons for having them ok? If I'm being honest there's a lot of things in this world I'm not happy with, but I do my job as best I can and then I do my best to make a difference wherever I can."

"Like what?" she asked; presumably expecting me to launch into my life story.

"It's not important, some other time perhaps."

I got up from the floor and walked away from the question and away from her. I prowled around the flat, making a big play of checking that no-one was trying to enter, making sure everything was safe and that we couldn't be seen from outside. It was all totally unnecessary, we probably both knew that. But then I was never any good at sitting tight and doing nothing; and I'm not very good at small talk, especially small talk about me.

Eventually, however, with nothing else to pretend to do; I found myself sat back on the floor of the bedroom, her brown eyes staring at me through the gloom.

"I'm sorry if I offended you Miss Campbell, Kay tells me I'm a nosey bitch sometimes."

"Kay?" I asked, the file hadn't mentioned a Kay.

"My sister Katie," she continued, "she says I'm too inquisitive, always looking for answers. It's interesting really because out of the two of us she's the one that thrives on gossip. She rings me up to tell me the latest scandals in her little circle of friends, like I'm fucking interested in who's shagging whom; I don't even know half of the people she tells me about. Anyway, I'm sorry if I offended you before."

"No matter, I just don't like being confined that's all, freaks me out."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it's not like it's your fault."

We lapsed into silence, albeit an awkward, uncomfortable one. Despite this, part of me is enjoying being in the room with her. When she's not being a total fucking bitch she's actually quite nice to be around; after all, she's not exactly hard on the eyes. The other parts of me, the more sensible, professional parts, are terrified of what that might mean.

"So why do you do this Naomi?" she asked, surprising me again with her sudden need for conversation.

"Do what?"

"This...protect people; put yourself in danger for people like me, people you don't even like."

I chuckled quietly to myself, _'You think I don't like you? Oh Emily, if only you knew.'_

I pushed that betraying thought to the back of my head and concentrated on the original question.

"Well, it's what I'm trained for, about all I'm good for actually. If I wasn't doing this I guess I'd be back living on the streets."

"_Back_ on the streets," she said incredulously, "have you been homeless before?"

"Miss Fitch after I got kicked out of the Army I spent weeks living anywhere I could; I slept on sofa's, on floors, eventually I ended up on the streets. I got this gig a couple of days ago after I bumped into the LT."

I laughed at my own fucked up life, not knowing why I was sharing this with her.

"In fact you're my first contract in the private sector, the first person I've had to personally protect. The best of it is I bet we're not even getting paid for it. Your father well and truly stitched me up you know?"

"Yeah he does that," she replied sadly. "He does that a lot; gets you to do things that you don't really want to do. Kind of wraps you up with words until you've got no way of saying no."

"Exactly!" I said to her, feeling that she had succinctly described what happened in that last meeting.

"So why did you do it in the Army, protect people that is?"

I thought about it for a minute, there were lots of reasons really, many of them far too complex for me to explain; certainly to a stranger in a dark bedroom. But for some unexplained reason I felt like I wanted to share them with her. She was one person I felt that I didn't _want_ to run from.

Mentally I slapped myself, _'get a grip Naomi, she's just a package, remember that.' _I fought hard to hold onto my reticence, to keep myself to myself.

"It was better than arresting drunken squaddies in German bars." I said finally, avoiding the truth, running despite myself.

"Oh."

We fell back into that awkward silence. "What about you?" I ventured finally, "Why do you do what you do Miss Fitch?"

"Dad." she said simply and left it at that. I'm not stupid, I can put two and two together, so I left it too.

As we sat in silence I thought about Emily Fitch, there's definitely two sides to her, there's the "daddy's girl" the spoilt, obnoxious mouthy brat and there's the "quiet one" the one that sits in a dark room and asks meaningful questions and talks to me like I'm a human being.

She's an enigma, I was absolutely right about that one. An enigma that I'd like to unravel, but I can't, mustn't... shouldn't.

Fortunately for me, my little enigma had decided to lose herself in her own thoughts and there was no further conversation between us. To be honest it was a relief, I'd come dangerously close to sharing parts of myself with her and that's something I just don't do. Even Amy hadn't got that close to me; this girl is scaring the shit out of me and I've only known her five minutes. I wish she'd go back to being the bitch, I knew how to handle her.

Emily Fitch, I decided, is like an unexploded shell; generally safe to leave alone, ideally you should leave her to the experts; but if you had to deal with it you needed to tread carefully. Unexploded rounds can lie dormant for years, or they could explode at the slightest breath. That's what she's like, that's what I can't handle.

"Do you like what you do?" she asked me, shattering the silence once more with that glorious voice.

"Well, even with my limited experience of private work I can safely say it's an interesting role."

Her head snapped up and I could feel her staring at me, "What makes you say that?"

"Well on my interview I was attacked by three blokes, one of whom was a test set up by Cook. Then on my first proper day at work I end up getting shot at. Now today we've been followed and I'm sat in a dark bedroom hoping the people outside only have cameras and don't have guns."

"Eventful." she said, a mocking laugh in her voice.

"Yeah, I at least in the Army it took me eight months before someone tried to kill me. I don't know what I did to win this particular popularity contest."

Miss Fitch snorted at my sarcasm, "You shouldn't build yourself up Miss Campbell, after all it's not like they were actually trying to kill _you_. I seem to remember that _I'm_ the one being targeted."

The mood changed again as the reality of her situation seemed to crash down on her again, her voice breaking at her final words. I could hear her sniffing quietly and I could only assume that she was crying again.

"Are you ok over there Miss Fitch?"

"Not really, it's all a bit much you know? How do you cope with it Naomi, how do you cope with the constant fear?"

"Fear of what Miss Fitch, being killed?"

"Of course being killed," she snapped angrily, "what the fuck else would I be talking about? There are people out there that want to kill me and I'm not sure I can fucking cope with that, what the fuck am I supposed to do?"

Her tears were falling freely now, I could see the pain etched on her face through the darkness as she sat by the bed, arms wrapped around her knees. Embarrassed, I moved across the room and sat next to her, patting her knee in my best, "concerned friend" manner.

"What you're supposed to do, Miss Fitch, is carry on your life as best you can, whilst taking precautions to make sure you don't make things easy for them until they're caught, or they go away. That's all you can do."

"But how do you deal with the fear? How do you make it go away?"

There's the million dollar question, but it's one I've had to deal with many times over the years. It seemed like every time we had a new recruit come out to the desert I would have to talk to them about dealing with the fear, dealing with the constant gnawing dread that your life would be over in a second. It got to the point where Captain McClair and some of the other lads would just tap me on the shoulder, point me in the direction of a rookie and say one word, "speech," and I'd know exactly what I had to do.

I've no idea if it would work here, work with a scared woman in a London flat but I know I've got to give it a go. As scared as I am about getting close to her, she needs someone to do this for her and at the moment there's no one here but me.

"Well, for starters that's a myth, the whole making fear go away business. The truth is you don't; not really. It's ok to be scared Miss Fitch; it's perfectly normal, as long as you don't give in to it. When you give in to the fear and let it dominate your life that's when you might as well give up, put a gun to your head and end it yourself; put yourself out of the misery. You asked me what are you supposed to do? Well what I did, what everyone else does is accept the fear, embrace it, channel it, use it to keep you alive.

Life's too short to live in fear Miss Fitch, and you're a long time dead. You need to embrace life and embrace the fear, because ultimately it's that fear that will keep you alive. It'll keep you on your toes and make you better at spotting danger."

Embrace life, oh yeah; because I've been _so_ good at doing that haven't I? I've told so many people to go out and live their lives to the maximum and yet I've never been capable of doing it for myself; not really.

I've spent so long now living a life empty of friendships, of closeness that I'm not sure if there's really another way for me. I've spent years kidding myself that the parties, the drinking, the lack of commitment, the whole 'happy go fucking-lucky' attitude was my way of living that free life; in truth it was little more than a cage that I shut myself away in, to prevent myself experiencing the pain of losing someone you love all over again. I learnt that lesson on the cold streets of London.

"But that's all right for you," she practically shouted at me; dragging me out of my morose thoughts. "You've been trained to deal with it, you've been taught how to handle the fear, how to handle the danger…I haven't. I don't know how; Naomi I'm fucking terrified."

I sighed, leaning back onto the bed as she clung to me; it always came down to something like that, even JJ had thought the same way when he was green, believing that fear was something he should have been trained in, believing that it was something you could analyse, assess, understand, then put to one side and forget about.

Slowly I wrapped my arm around her shaking shoulders and made my decision, she needed me to give her something that would help her through her fear. I took a deep breath in and did something I've never done before, not for anyone, I shared a little part of me.

"Miss Fitch, at the risk of sounding corny, let me tell you a story. My first proper operational tour with the Military Police was in Basra. Now I don't know what you know about the situation there after the war, but I can tell you it wasn't a picnic. Our base would be attacked at least twice a week and we came under fire on every other patrol. I'd only been in the Army for eight months, I wasn't even nineteen when I landed. I'd done my basic training, my legal exams and a short stint in Germany; then before I knew it we had been shipped to Iraq as a operational support unit. I'd only been there two days when we came under mortar fire. The tent I'd been in five minutes before took a direct hit and the foxhole I was in got rained on by the dirt and the shrapnel. The only thought that went through my head for next two days was that I could have been in there, it could have been my time to die. I wasn't even nineteen Miss Fitch and I could have been dead right there and then, snuffed out of existence with no one to mourn my passing.

I was so afraid that I spent those two days in some kind of mental coma; I was pretty much just going through the motions; until my Sergeant took me to one side, gave me a slap and told me what I've just told you. I've lived in fear every day since then, every day it's there in one form or another; it doesn't go away. It's not about training Miss Fitch, its not about being a soldier or being a civilian it's about your attitude."

"But how can you say that, I've met people like you, you're all so confident, so calm. Look at yesterday, I just lay there shitting myself on the back seat of your car and you were just so fucking cool up front; you acted like being shot at wasn't anything to be scared of. How can you do things like that if you're scared?"

"That's where the training comes in Miss Fitch," I said softly, trying to make her understand, trying to give her an insight into the true face of war. "You do what you've been trained to do, the fear goes away when you're in danger like that, the training takes over. It comes back though, it always comes back; it's the one constant in a soldiers life, eventually you just accept it for what it is, it becomes a part of you; you pull it on in the morning with your clothes. If you could have seen me properly on the journey home you'd have seen my hands were shaking. It was touch and go yesterday Miss Fitch, I don't mind telling you I was fucking scared myself."

"I don't get it, how can you do what you do knowing that you might die? How can you be that brave?"

"Miss Fitch, _all_ of us live with the knowledge that we are going to die every single day, but we put it to one side and go on with our lives and see what tomorrow will bring. Some people aren't as lucky as us. Some people _know_ that they're going to die, they know _when_ they're going to die and they _know_ they're going to die in pain. They have that sentence handed to them by someone with a friendly face and a white fucking coat and they have to deal with that; that's bravery Miss Fitch, they're the really brave ones.

Those people have to live with that knowledge every fucking day of their lives and yet they still go on. They try to live their lives to the maximum knowing that every day might be their last. They do everything they can to stop their families hurting from the pain of their loss; to stop the people around them becoming hollow shells. They smile through the pain and the hopelessness of it all to make it right for the people they love. That's fucking bravery Miss Fitch, that's being a hero."

I felt a lone tear make its way from the corner of my eye to drip onto my jacket, lost instantly in the material; a dark stain the only thing left to mark its fleeting existence. I was glad of the darkness to hide it from sight.

"You'll deal with the fear you have because you have to Miss Fitch; you'll deal with it because if you don't your life might as well be over and they've won. You'll become one of those hollow shells that's just walking around afraid of everything and afraid of everyone. Living an empty life because they can't put it behind them and living one day to the next wondering when the end will finally come."

I got up from the floor once more and put my hand on her shoulder, terrified of the movement, but more terrified of the closeness, the familiarity that I was feeling in her presence.

"You'll deal with it Miss Fitch because I can't see you doing anything else, you're a fighter I can tell that…and if you need time to realise that I'll do my best to keep you safe for as long as you want me around; after that, well…"

I left her alone in the dark, alone with her thoughts. I hoped that I'd been able to help a little, doubted that I'd succeeded. It's a different world out here, the things I know and understand don't really apply in civilian life, not all of them anyway.

"Naomi?" I heard from behind me as I reached the dark doorway. I paused and waited, taking a deep breath; scared of what she might ask, scared that I might have to tell her the truth.

"Who did you lose Naomi? Who was it that made you think like that?"

I thought of them all, all of those faces that haunted my dreams, Whitey, Freds, Langdon, everyone that I'd lost along the way; in the end it was only ever one face that came to my mind, and it's not something I'll ever be able to lie about.

"The only person that ever loved me for who I am Miss Fitch; the only person I've ever managed to love back."

o+o+o

I spent the next fifteen minutes avoiding her, which wasn't easy in such a small flat. I'd broken the silence only to tell her it was safe to use the bathroom, as long as she didn't turn on a light or open the blinds. I stood motionless on stag duty, peering carefully through the crack in the curtain; watching the vehicle below, hidden by the shadows. Finally my phone rang again, cutting through the atmosphere that had built since our frank little talk. When I saw who it was I swiped at the screen to answer it and let rip.

"JJ, fucking hell! I asked you not to leave me hanging for fucks sake, what the fuck is going on?"

I wasn't so much angry at him, but angry at the situation he'd left me in. I was feeling burnt, stung by the re-opening of the festering wound that had never quite healed, trapped in that endless moment where you're forced to examine your own life and you find there's not a lot to like.

"Easy Sarge, we've had a bit of trouble arranging the ARU that's all. Can you get Emily ready to move quickly? The police are ready to move in now."

"What do you want me to do JJ," I asked somewhat mollified at his answer, my professional training kicking in.

"We're about to check your stairwell, make sure it's safe to move you both. If it is I'll send you a text and then when you hear us knocking get out as quickly as you can. There are officers here to escort you down and a police car waiting at the bottom. The plan is the two of you will get in and they'll take you straight to the headquarters of Fitch Industries; we've got a couple of our guys sorting out the security on the place now, and there are people waiting for your arrival."

"Text, down stairs, police car, Fitch Industries, got it LT."

I summarised the plan as quickly as I could, confirming that I understood what he needed me to do. When the red flag goes down there's no time to fuck about; the less time spent asking stupid questions, the more time we had to execute the plan.

"Right, good luck Sarge, see you on the other side."

"Gotcha LT, and sorry ok?"

"No problems Naomi. Take it easy."

"Yeah, slow and low LT."

"Low and slow Sarge."

Sure enough, five minutes later I received a text that just said _'Now'_. I'd already briefed Miss Fitch on the plan; and once we heard the knock we were already out of the door and heading down the stairs, the two ARU officers in full body armour carrying their MP5's were a welcome sight as we headed into the hallway.

I'm glad Miss Fitch is in such good shape because she makes the two flights of stairs at top speed without missing a step or breaking a sweat, and within seconds of opening the door we're ushered into the back of a police car by the coppers and sent on our way; I can hear the screaming of sirens as, I assumed, the rest of the unit swooped in on the unsuspecting targets. As we sped from the scene I could feel my heart racing as the adrenaline pumped once more; only calming myself down as we drove further into the City, and closer to the headquarters of Fitch Industries.

As operations go it had been swift and effective, once the police finally got there that was. Forty minutes we'd lost spent confined in that seemingly endless moment. Forty minutes I'd spent trapped with Miss Fitch with no means of escape; and a small part of me wished it had been forty minutes more.

o+o+o

I listened carefully to the police radio as we drove through the streets of the City, glad that the flashing lights and occasional bursts of siren meant that we didn't have to sit in the traffic chaos that was London. By the sounds of things the occupants of the car had been swiftly apprehended by the armed police unit and had been taken away for questioning; there had been no mention of any weapons being found.

Worst case scenario was that it was another recon team as JJ and I suspected; but I still couldn't help but wonder how they knew where she was staying, or what car she would be travelling in.

Curious, and somewhat worrying.

As we pulled into the underground car park that served the offices of Fitch Industries were met by none other than Rob Fitch himself, and stood next to him looking like the cat that had got the cream was James Cook.

"Emsy love, are you all right?" Rob asked as she got out of the car pulling her into a hug. "I was so worried about you, thank heavens for Naomi and her quick thinking."

"I'm fine daddy," she said, suddenly back in her alternate form, sounding so different to the woman I'd spoken to in the darkness of her flat. "Can we just go upstairs, I'm sure our guests from India won't want to be kept waiting any longer than they have to be."

Without even a backwards glance she set off with Rob towards the brightly lit lifts, her mask held firmly in place. Smiling to myself I fell into step with Cook behind them.

"Interesting morning Blondie, seems you have a knack for finding yourself in trouble."

I gave him a sidelong glance, "I need to talk to you about that Mr Cook, I'm just a little bit concerned about how easily they picked us up; I think Fitch Industries might have a leak."

"Oh they have a leak all right Naomi, since about ten past nine this morning your face has been plastered all over the news channels. That picture of you in your dress uniform is quite a good one you know?"

I stopped dead in my tracks and looked at him disbelievingly. "Please Mr Cook, tell me you're having a fucking laugh."

He laughed that filthy little laugh of his and looked at me. "Seriously Blondie, you're famous. The channels are even broadcasting footage of you trying to evade the gunmen yesterday; the wonders of the mobile phone generation eh? It's all over the news babe. I've even had to send our PR people along to handle the press on your behalf."

I groaned, this was becoming a fucking nightmare. Cook wrapped his arm around my shoulders and squeezed me tight,

"Come on then Naomi, you can't leave your fans waiting, there are lots of people that want to speak to you."

'_Fucking Hell'_

.

.

.

**A/N –** Not wanting to upset anyone in there, sorry if I did. It was necessary ok, I hope you'll understand as time goes on.


	13. Long Time Alive, Long Time Dead

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt and a severe lack of talent. Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which makes me very upset)

**Authors Note **– Right time to bring someone else into the fold as it were...

Oh and hello to Jaelle90 who appears to be working their way through my stuff...word of advice, don't; there's better things to do with your time, I could give you whole lists of better things to read, seriously!

Oh yeah, Hawke...you get what? Was there something to get? (-;

**Chapter 13 – Long Time Alive, Long Time Dead.**

One short lift journey later and we were all stood in the impressive reception area of Fitch Industries. All around the walls were large pictures of weaponry, troops in action, tanks, planes and ships. There wasn't much mistaking what this company did, even if it did sound like your average manufacturing company by name.

Rob led us thought the network of corridors to his large office, his arm held protectively around his youngest daughter all the time. I was being pretty much ignored, a humble employee simply along for the ride. Cook was on his phone talking to JJ, and Rob and Emily were chatting to themselves. I did my best to be professional as we raced through the office, I did my best to look out for danger. Cook had told me that the security here was pretty lax, but I had also noticed the two, competent looking, guys by the reception desk who had nodded at Cook and I as we passed and relaxed slightly, remembering that JJ had sent people here to shore things up.

Still it doesn't hurt to stay professional, get complacent, get killed; that's what they had taught us when we did our CPU training, they weren't wrong.

As Rob closed the door behind me I felt I needed to speak.

"Excuse me Mr Fitch? May I have a word?"

"Naomi, the hero of the hour; of course you can, my ears are all yours."

"What you have just done was extremely unwise Mr Fitch; we've just gone through an open office into this room and you never gave me one second to check that it was safe in here. I think after yesterday and today we have to accept that the threats to your family are real and act accordingly. Could I ask in future that you give me the opportunity to verify that the room is clear before we enter, no matter how safe you might think is."

I could see Cook staring at me out of the corner of my eye, a small smile on his lips. Rob Fitch just looked at me as if I'd taken away his favourite toy, before breaking into a broad grin, dazzling me with his pearly white teeth.

"That's why I like you Naomi, you're always right at the top of your game aren't you? I'm sorry, you're absolutely right; I'll make sure I take more care next time. You keep telling me when I do stupid things Naomi, and we'll get along just fine; and whilst you're at it you can stop with the Mr Fitch nonsense as well. You saved my baby girls life, that makes you like family."

He glanced past me to the grinning Cook, "James I hope you're paying this girl a lot of money, otherwise I'll be tempted to snatch her away from you."

They both laughed at his comment; I know it's a joke, but I couldn't help but feel like a horse being traded at a country fair. Fortunately Miss Fitch came to my rescue by turning up the volume on the rooms large television which had been flickering away showing the BBC news channel. I watched in horror as blurry footage of yesterday's events came on screen.

_'This footage, taken by the passenger in a nearby vehicle captures the dramatic moment yesterday when terrorists struck in the heart of rural England.'_

They finally cut away from the grainy video feed to an interview with a series of 'eye witness' who described the events in a way that was so farfetched they resembled the truth in only the slightest manner.

_'The driver of the vehicle, Naomi Campbell, until recently a Sergeant serving with the Royal Military Police in Afghanistan; was escorting the youngest daughter of industrial magnate Robert Fitch, President and owner of Fitch Industries, back to her home in St John's Wood when the attack happened. Miss Campbell who left the army after being seriously injured in a Taliban ambush in December 2009...'_

As they spoke they put up a photograph of a somewhat younger me, it was obviously taken from my passing out photograph after basic training. No.2 dress blues and Red Cap, my very best serious face and a dressed SA80 in my arms, bayonet gleaming in the light. I remembered it well, I'd been so proud that day, proud that I'd achieved something special; yet so sad that there was no-one there to see it, to see me. I had no idea where they got the picture from though, apart from my military records as far as I know the only one in existence is locked away in a storage depot in Cheltenham.

"See Naomi, I told you that you looked good in the photograph they used."

"Did you have something to do with that Mr Cook?"

He grinned at me, looking amused at my slight discomfort. "Naomi please, it's James, or Cook or if you like Cookie, Mr Cook is still sitting on his porch back in Baton Rouge, no doubt annoying the neighbourhood kids and talking about the 'good old days'"

"Fine, did you have something to do with that _James_?" I asked again, deciding to concede the point, but not let him off the hook.

"Your picture didn't come from us Naomi, nor the information about you. But we have found out who it was that leaked the story. JJ's just told me that our terrorist subjects have been singing a merry little tale to the police."

"So was it one of your people James, if it was I hope that you'll be handing them over to the authorities."

Cook shook his head.

"It wasn't one of my people Rob, my people wouldn't dream of doing something so stupid. Besides, what would one of my people be doing talking to _journalists_? We spend most of our time keeping those guys away from our clients, not sending them to them."

The room fell silent for a second before Rob Fitch let out an angry cry, "Journalists, someone told a bunch of _journalists_ where my Emsy was. I'll _kill_ them when I find them."

"Not exactly Rob, the person in question knew about the attack and knew that Emily was staying elsewhere, and who with, but didn't know the address. The journalists confessed to being told to follow your car from the office to Naomi's and then when they lost them they were given Emily's address."

"Who on earth would do something that stupid?" Rob asked, obviously incensed.

"Katie," Miss Fitch said softly from her position by the screen. "Katie knew I was staying at a safe house, I spoke to her last night, talked to her about everything that had happened. I didn't say where I was though, I didn't have a clue. She did ask though; it must have been her, it's the only answer that fits."

Rob snorted in disgust and glared at her; I watched as Emily physically shrank, turning away from her father's look and staring at the screen. I could see her blinking furiously as he continued.

"Don't be stupid Emily," he said his voice scornful. "Katie wouldn't do anything like that, she would never put you at risk. That's a ridiculous thing to suggest."

"I'm afraid to say that Emily is right Rob. JJ, that's my colleague who is liaising with the police after today's incident, tells me that Katherine Fitch-Brace was the name given to the police as their source."

Rob simply frowned at the news and ignored us, walking over to his desk and picking up his phone, "Alison, would you ask Katiekins to pop along to my office please...yes that's right I need a word with her now."

I'm not sure if he didn't see, or ignored, the face of his daughter that was clearly reflected in the now blank TV screen, or the sad shake of the head as her suspicions were confirmed. He didn't even apologise to her for putting her down and humiliating her in front of us all.

I saw it though, and I saw the heartbreak and anger that was painted all over it.

We waited in silence for the eldest daughter to arrive. Miss Fitch, still staring at the screen. She seemed to have pulled herself together, no longer blinking away tears, and yet still seemed subdued. It wasn't long before I understood why.

The door to the office flung open and another small brunette walked in. She couldn't have been more different to her sister; where Miss Fitch was immaculately dressed in a sharp looking trouser suit and in perfect shape, Mrs Fitch-Brace looked like a twenty-five year old that had been let loose in a seventeen year olds wardrobe. Over-tight top, terrifyingly short skirt, and heels that made the ones Effy made me wear on my first day look positively small.

That's not to say she didn't look good in what she was wearing, because she did; it's just that it really didn't suit her, made her look a little cheap, a little obvious. It didn't make her look as good as her sister.

"Daddy, you wanted to see me?"

She doesn't sound like her sister either, a higher voice, not as deep and there's the faintest hint of a lisp; but it's nothing that would make her stand out. For a pair of twins they're quite, quite different; and not just, as I had first thought from their file, in terms of looks.

She waved across at Miss Fitch, who studiously ignored her, before looking at James and myself and then back at her father.

"Who are these people Daddy?"

"Katie, this is James Cook and Naomi Campbell."

I was nearly knocked off my feet by the flying figure of Katie Fitch-Brace; before I know it I've been wrapped in a hug and her head is pressed against mine as she tried her very best to squeeze the very life out of me.

"Miss Campbell, Naomi...I can call you Naomi can't I? Thank you, thank you for saving my baby sister's life; I'll never be able to repay you."

I can see her sisters face fall into an ugly little smirk as I look out in shock over her shoulder. Miss Fitch does not exactly look convinced at her sisters performance.

"Why did you send a set of journalists after me Katie?" she said, arms folded across her chest.

"I didn't," she replied letting go of me finally. "I didn't send anyone after you."

"Don't lie Katie, we know you did. How could you put us in danger like that?"

Mrs Fitch-Brace looked across at Rob, "Daddy, I didn't do anything, you know I wouldn't do something like that."

He looked fondly at her, I don't believe there is one person in the room that is convinced by her defence, but it appears I'm wrong as Rob opens his mouth only to put his foot firmly in it.

"Katiekins, I know you wouldn't do anything that would hurt your sister. Those journalists are obviously just lying to the Police."

I watched as Mrs Fitch-Brace's smile faltered for a second, it was only brief but I didn't miss it. Definitely lying, I couldn't believe Rob couldn't see it; unfortunately for Miss Fitch that wasn't the end of the matter.

"It _is_ great publicity though daddy, our phones haven't stopped ringing all morning. Naomi's been a fantastic marketing tool for us. We've had journalists anxious to speak to her and us about what happened and why. It's been marvellous for the business' image."

"I'm going to my office," I heard Miss Fitch say behind me as her sister continued to rub in the situation. I knew what she was doing, I could see that Cook knew what she was doing as well. Shame was, Rob seemed oblivious; oblivious to his other daughters pain.

"I've got a meeting to prepare for."

I opened the office door and checked the corridor quickly before allowing Miss Fitch through. I nodded to Cook and Rob and backed out of the door.

"Where's she going?" I heard as I closed the door, "I need to talk to her".

"To do her job Mrs Fitch-Brace," I heard Cook say. "My team don't leave their charges."

o+o+o

I followed after Miss Fitch as she practically ran along the carpet covered corridors to her office. As she reached the door I caught her hand as she reached for the handle.

"Calmly now Miss Fitch, let's not take any chances ok?"

She nodded at me, with eyes that were swimming with unshed tears, and stepped backwards as I opened the door. I checked out the small but comfortable looking office, before walking in and closing the blinds on the windows, both inside and out.

"Still worried about snipers on rooftops, or are you afraid the people in the office might pull guns and start shooting at me?" she asked mockingly as I gestured that it was safe for her to come in.

"Not really, more concerned about people looking in."

"Why would that bother you? No-one here would hurt me."

I looked at her sagely as she walked around the room and sat in her chair, and watched her as the reality of her words sunk in and her face broke.

"Fuck off," she shouted at me, the tears falling freely now. "Just fuck off and leave me alone. I just want everyone to leave me the fuck alone."

I nodded to her and moved towards the door. "Of course Miss Fitch, whatever you want. I'll be outside if you need me."

I closed the door after me and stood, practically at attention, outside in the corridor. I'd caught the look of disbelief on her face as I closed the door behind me; I can only assume she hadn't expected me to do just that. I guess she hadn't banked on my inability to deal with emotional women, and believe me that room had been swimming in emotion. The powder keg that was Emily Fitch was brim full, and the fuse was burning down. I didn't want to be the person that was nearby when that powder went up.

o+o+o

Back in the day I used to think that standing guard was one of the most painfully boring things I've ever done; I now knew I was wrong. Standing guard in a plush corridor with a pair of, admittedly very small, heels on is the most painfully boring thing I've done. Painful being the key word; I'd only been stood outside for about fifteen minutes and my feet were killing me.

I'd been listening to the faint sobs and sniffles from behind the closed door when my attention was distracted; Katherine Fitch-Brace, fresh from her wardrobe explosion was heading my way.

"Naomi, you left and I really wanted to speak to you. Look the BBC want to interview you about yesterday's incident and I've arranged for a camera crew to come along at half three. We'll use the boardroom once Emily's finished messing around in it and we'll make the six o'clock news..."

"No." I interrupted her forcefully, enjoying the fact that her face fell just a little.

"What do you mean no?"

"I mean no, Mrs Fitch-Brace. N. O. two letters, one syllable, no."

She fixed me with a look of abject confusion, "I'm sorry Naomi, but 'no' what?"

"Well I assume you're about to ask me to take part in this interview you've set up, and I'm telling you that the answer is no. I don't do interviews, and I have no intention of taking part in this media circus that you've arranged."

"That _I've_ arranged?" she said, the face of fucking innocence, "I told you, I had nothing to do with what happened this morning, but I am going to use it for our benefit. That's my job."

"and my job is currently looking after your sister's safety and that is all I am prepared to do. Mrs Fitch-Brace. Oh, and for your information I spent seven years in the Military Police, I'm originally trained as a police officer; I'm a damned good investigator as well as a close protection agent, I know when someone is lying Mrs Fitch-Brace and I know you are lying right now."

She dropped the confused face and fixed me with a smirk. "Yeah, well you prove that. Daddy might think you're hot stuff at the moment, but _I'm_ his favourite; he fucking dotes on me and if I ask him to get rid of you then your history, just like that."

She snapped her fingers to emphasise the apparent speed in which she could make me 'history'; it took almost everything I had to stop myself from laughing in her face.

"Mrs Fitch-Brace, I think you fail to understand the situation here. I don't work for you, or your father, I work for James Cook; and thanks to you my face is all over the news making me a pretty valuable asset, an asset I think he'd be reluctant to throw away. I doubt, if you make me 'history', I'll be out of work for long. However I would like you to think about this; yesterday your sister and I were shot at on the motorway, it may look like a fucking computer game on that TV screen in your office, but it was pretty fucking real to both of us, real bullets, real cars and a real chance of being dead.

Your sister and I were very nearly killed by a terrorist group that has threatened to kill her, you and all of your family; I risked my life yesterday to keep your sister safe and you repay us by selling her out to a bunch of strangers for a fucking story and a chance to be on television."

I paused for a second to let the words sink in; I doubted they would, she didn't look the type to be cowed by the thought of someone else's danger, her own perhaps, but not her sisters and certainly not mine.

"We could have been killed again today Mrs Fitch-Brace, totally due to your actions. I don't take kindly to that...please don't let me hear you've done anything that stupid again. Now if you don't mind I'd like to get back to my job."

She glared at me before placing her hand on the door handle. Casually I placed my hand on her wrist.

"Miss Fitch has asked that no-one disturbs her whilst she prepares for her meeting. I think it best if you come back later."

"She's my sister you bitch, I'll see her whenever I like; get your fucking hand off me."

I released her hand, I could hear the faint sounds of movement from inside, and imagined Miss Fitch scrabbling around to compose herself before her sister forced her way in. Anxious to give her the time to sort herself out I stepped across the door and blocked her entry.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"I'm the person that's been asked to ensure Miss Fitch isn't disturbed, and I believe you would be disturbing her if you went in there right now."

I smiled coldly at her, "But I'll be sure to tell her you called, when she's ready to take visitors that is."

"So Emily's managed to find herself a pet has she? Half past three, _Naomi_, the boardroom. You will be there!"

"Actually no she won't, Katie." The door to Miss Fitch's office had opened and that husky voice rang out, dripping with bitchy contempt at her sister. "I have plans after my meeting this afternoon and Miss Campbell will be required. Why don't you talk to James, I'm sure he'll be more than happy to talk to the BBC."

She broke her eye contact with her sister and looked straight at me. "Miss Campbell can I have a word with you about this meeting and what I need you to do this afternoon. Katie, why don't you run along now? Surely you've got a party to organise."

She stepped away from the doorway leaving the stunned face of her sister standing in the hallway. I smiled politely at her and followed Miss Fitch into her office, firmly closing the door behind me.

"Take a seat Miss Campbell."

Miss Fitch flopped down into the huge leather office chair that made her look smaller than she actually was and pointed to the seat opposite her desk.

"I'd rather stand if you don't mind."

She looked straight at me, locking her eyes with mine. I spotted a slight narrowing of her eyes before I forced myself to look away, look anywhere but into those large brown pools.

"I'd prefer it if you sat Miss Campbell."

I continued to stand in the familiar old 'at ease' stance, looking at the picture behind her head, my hands loosely gripped behind me, thumbs intertwined. She looked up at me and sighed.

"Naomi, please, sit the fuck down; you're making me uncomfortable standing there like that."

Hearing the frustration in her voice, and not wanting to antagonise her any further I lowered myself into the seat, smoothing down the skirt I was wearing as I did so, conscious of how much it was riding up in the cold light of day.

"You don't seem comfortable," she said and I noticed that she was watching my movements carefully.

"Not used to dressing like this, more used to combat boots and trousers to be honest."

"Trust me you look fine," she smirked, throwing my words from earlier this morning back at me; I simply shrugged in response, ignoring the barb.

"Anyway, I wanted to apologise, I heard what Katie said to you; I'm afraid she's a bit of a bully, she really doesn't mean to be, she's always been Dad's favourite and she kind of plays on it...a lot."

She sighed sadly and looked at a picture of the two of them that stood on a side table. "She's actually quite nice most of the time."

I raised a single eyebrow at her.

"Ok," she said, smiling properly for the first time since we'd left her flat, "she's a fucking bitch most of the time; she swans around like the queen bee with dad twisted around her fucking finger. I mean, I love her to bits, she's my big sister; but sometimes I fucking hate her for it."

I suddenly had one of those moments of insight, the ones where the clouds open and the sunlight streams down onto your face; the realisation of what was going on between them was clear. Jealousy's a terribly powerful emotion isn't it?

"You resent her" It wasn't really a question and her head snapped up at me, eyes blazing; all traces of that smile gone. I think I've hit a bit of a raw nerve.

"Of course I resent her, she gets a cushy fucking job doing exactly what she likes doing and I get to negotiate deals and sell our products."

"You don't like what you do then?"

She glared at me again, "I don't think that's any of your fucking business, do you?"

"Probably not," I conceded, "it just seemed like an obvious question. Sorry, I didn't mean to pry. So about this afternoon?"

Miss Fitch settled back in her chair, the powder thankfully still not ignited, and looked at me curiously.

"What about this afternoon?"

"You said you wanted to talk to me about the meeting today and something you had to do this afternoon."

"Oh, right I did say that didn't I? Actually I have no idea what I'm doing this afternoon, if this meeting goes well dad will probably want to celebrate, if not I'll probably go and get pissed at home and forget this week ever happened."

"Well, let me know what you want me to do when you've decided. Is that everything Miss Fitch?"

She nodded at me and I stood and headed for the door. "Naomi," she said as I was about to leave, "this is getting to be a habit but thanks, for keeping Katie out that is. I don't think I could have handled her right then."

"Miss Fitch," I replied as I stepped outside and went to close the door, "from where I was standing it looked like you handled her extremely well."

o+o+o

The afternoon meeting was an interesting event; I escorted Miss Fitch to the large conference room and at her request waited at the back of the room. I was doing my best to be unobtrusive, which was proving difficult. Judging by the looks the other people in the room were giving me, they'd seen the footage on the television as well; and thanks to Katie fucking Fitch-Brace, I wasn't as anonymous as I wanted to be.

I did get to see Miss Fitch in full on hard faced bitch mode though, it was interesting really. She was _exactly_ like she had been back at her house and _nothing_ like the woman I'd sat in the dark with earlier that morning. My theory of there being two sides to her personality seemed to be bearing out.

I watched as she buried herself in the cut and thrust of the negotiations; her mind really was astute as she dealt with the figures and quantities and costings that were being thrown from one side to another. I couldn't help but admire her ability to keep things in her head and stand her ground, she really was impressive in action. She might have had a small team of people to help her with the negotiations, but there was no doubt who was the person in charge.

Finally she seemed to lose her temper with the other parties wrangling; throwing up her hands dramatically and claiming that they weren't acting in good faith. When she threatened to walk away from the table they folded and gave her the opportunity she needed and seeing the weakness she pressed her attack home.

It was like watching a well executed military campaign; she was fierce, fearless and totally fucking ruthless; and I was slightly ashamed to find myself thinking it was as hot as hell.

'_You can't think like that Naomi, professional remember?'_

Yeah right, like it's ever that easy.

Finally the meeting ended with smiles and handshakes all around. The legal people put pieces of paper in front of Miss Fitch and her counterpart, signatures were added and the meeting was over.

As the Indian delegation were ushered away, chatting amicably to Miss Fitch's assistants as they left, she slumped down in her chair visibly drained.

"Thank fuck for that; got them." she exclaimed, exhaustion evident in her voice. I stood impassively at the back of the room, not wanting to comment at her presumably rhetorical words.

"Will that put me in more danger, or less then Miss Campbell?"

I looked across to where she sat, "I have no idea at all Miss Fitch, I would suggest that the situation hasn't changed much. If those people were the team from India's Border Security Force then perhaps yes, I think the situation might have got a little bit worse. You'd have to talk to the threat assessment specialists to be sure, this may have nothing to do with the threats."

"Do you believe that Miss Campbell."

"Not really Miss Fitch, I don't believe in coincidence. I still believe the threats, the attack and this meeting were all related."

Miss Fitch slumped into her seat, "So I guess I'm stuck with you still."

"Not at all Miss Fitch, I'm sure if you're unhappy with my work Mr Cook will reassign someone else to your protection duties."

"I didn't mean it like that," she said quickly, "I didn't mean you personally; I just…well I'm sick of it all already you know? I don't feel like I have a life of my own as it is; and now you're here telling me what to do as well. It's just so fucking frustrating."

I kept silent again, I could feel the fuse growing closer to the powder and I didn't want to fan the flame and make it move any quicker.

"Well fucking say something then, don't just stand there like a prick."

"I don't have anything to say to you Miss Fitch, we don't have any common ground I'm afraid. I've been taking orders for almost all of my adult life, I guess I'm used to it."

"So you're a fucking robot are you, all you've ever done is what you're fucking told?"

I could feel myself getting angry, she was pushing my buttons, spoiling for a fight. The bitch-queen was champing at the bit, desperate to be let loose again; and she obviously saw me as an easy target.

"Miss Fitch, I appreciate you're angry this situation, I'm sure I'd be angry and frustrated if I was in your shoes, but I'm only trying to help, there's no need to take it out on me. I can appreciate that you're still scared and this is a major change to your normal routine; all I can say is that I'll do my best to make this as painless as possible and try and minimise the impact this has on your life. I doubt that you'll have anything as dramatic as yesterday happen again. I hope with a few simple security measures yesterday will be a one off, and that soon the danger will be over and your life can go back to normal."

I smiled as best I could, "I hope so anyway, I'm not sure I could take many more days like yesterday and today."

To my relief she snorted in amusement, I was glad to see I hadn't lost any of the skills I was taught in conflict resolution without the use of live ammunition; just one more thing to thank the army for. Her amusement didn't last long as the door to the conference room was flung open and her sister swaggered in.

"Emsy you can just pretty much just fuck off now, I need this room for the BBC interview that madam over there has stood me up for. Fortunately James has kindly volunteered to stop me looking like a total twat."

She looked over at me contemptuously, "_James_ wants to be helpful."

"Miss Campbell, would you mind stepping outside for a second, I need a quick word with my sister."

I looked across and nodded, "I'll be waiting outside when you're ready to go Miss Fitch." I said and left the room as fast as I could without losing my professional dignity. I could see in her eyes that the fuse had burnt down, the powder was dry and ready to explode; 'Emily the bitch-queen' was about to let her mouth run over. With the way Katie had been behaving I expected this to be a violent struggle.

As I stepped through the door I saw Cook approaching, a happy spring to his step. He looked every inch the southern gentleman and he'd obviously spruced himself up just a little bit more ready for the cameras.

"Naomi!" he shouted as he saw me.

I held out my hand and stopped him from entering the room, "I'd give them a second or two Cook, I think the bitch-Fitch is about to blow."

"What Emily? She's as nice as pie Naomi, wouldn't hurt a fly. Katie on the other hand she's a real handful when she wants to be."

He's obviously not met the 'other' Emily Fitch, well he'd learn soon enough what she was like. We stood by the doorway and waited and sure enough it wasn't long before we heard the sound of raised voices through the heavy wooden doors.

"_Fucks sake Emily it's my fucking job to exploit situations like this, we're going to be on national fucking television do you know how valuable that is?"_

"_Fuck you Katie, this is my fucking life you're fucking with."_

"_Don't be so melodramatic Emily, you're as bad as that Naomi. You were never in any danger, they were journalists for fucks sake."_

"_How the fuck do you know that Katie? How the fuck do you know that for sure? How the fuck do you know someone wasn't listening in, or that your fucking journalist mates wouldn't sell me out or something…you just don't fucking care about me do you?"_

"_Of course I care bitch, you're my fucking sister!"_

"_You don't do a very good job of fucking showing it Kay!"_

The voices lowered for a second and Cook and I exchanged glances.

"Feisty," he said grinning and nodding at the door.

"Yeah, thanks for landing me with her James, I _so_ appreciate it. This little protection job has been the highlight of my life thus far. Today and tomorrow are going to be just awesome."

"You love it Blondie; besides she's quite a looker is Miss Fitch; I bet you've not protected anyone that good looking before, you can't tell me that you're not enjoying it, Effy told me that you found _her_ butt very interesting."

I rolled my eyes at him, I'm good at that, it's a favourite move of mine; I seem to be able to put a multitude of feelings into that one simple eye movement. He chortled in response.

"I'll take that as a yes then Blondie," he laughed at me and I gave him the finger in response. He nodded at the door again, "you think we should go in and break things up?"

"Probably, before they kill each other. I would look like a lousy bodyguard if I let my packages sister kill her wouldn't I. By the way, thanks for doing that bloody interview, I really couldn't face doing anything like that."

"You should have done it Blondie, I'm serious you could have even more fans, our receptionist is fed up of taking calls from people you used to know."

"I'll give her a call, tell her to ignore them; no one wanted to know me a few days ago, well no one except JJ, so I don't think I really want to know them now."

Cook nudged me with his elbow, "Well there's a more than a few particularly persistent people that have been calling apparently, Helen's sent their details to your phone in case you change your mind."

_'Great!'_

"You think they've calmed down in there?" he said changing the subject.

The door was flung open and the tear strewn face of Emily Fitch appeared and crossed the corridor to the bathrooms opposite, ignoring the two of us totally, I heard the bathroom door slam and firmly lock and I sighed and looked at Cook.

"Guess not."

"Yeah, looks like things didn't go so well then," he said looking at the closed door.

I shook my head as Mrs Fitch-Brace came to the doorway, she stared at the closed door for a few seconds, shaking her head. She then took a long, deep breath, turned to Cook and smiled.

"James, the BBC will be here in about twenty minutes, there's just enough time to go over the message we want to say, about Naomi here, before they arrive."

"You and Emily have a fight Katie?" he drawled, his voice giving the most casual, nonchalant sound to that loaded question.

"She's a silly cow," she replied with a hint of upset and frustration in her voice. "She just will not understand that it doesn't matter how big the deal she's just landed is, it's nothing without the right publicity. This whole situation is fucking ideal; this whole terrorist attack, it's like a marketing dream. I've had all the major news channels on the phone to me desperate to give us time on screen; it's fucking marvellous what it's done for our profile."

She turned on her heels and flounced back into the conference room, Cook and I looked at each other in disbelief. One shake of the head and one roll of the eyes and I made a decision, fuck it if it cost me my job. Katherine Elizabeth Fitch-Brace was starting to fucking annoy me and it was time for another episode of 'Sergeant Campbell's home truths'; only this time the story was dedicated to the other twin. I walked into the room, leaned against the conference room table and cleared my throat.

"Mrs Fitch-Brace, I'd like you to do something for me."

She turned to look at me, eyes flashing. She opened her mouth to interrupt but I continued, speaking over her objection.

"I'd like you to imagine that yesterday didn't happen the way it did, that I wasn't there, or that things didn't go as well. I want you to imagine sitting in your fancy office going about your business and then getting a phone call out of the blue from a complete stranger, being asked to go to a hospital somewhere in Wiltshire to identify a body. I want you to imagine that drive and everything that would be going through your head during those two hours in that car.

I want you to imagine being led down a cold, grim corridor to the hospital mortuary and seeing a body laid out on a metal table waiting for you, covered only with a green cloth. I want you to think about watching as a sad faced copper pulls back that green cloth and I want you to image seeing the smashed body of your sister lying on that cold metal, broken and riddled with machine gun rounds; grey and cold and lifeless, never able to talk to you ever again.

I want you to imagine how you'd feel if you saw that Mrs Fitch-Brace, put yourself inside that room for a second and think about what went before. I want you to think about the last time you saw or spoke to your sister before yesterday. I want you to think about everything you said and everything you did. Whether you parted well or parted badly, I want you to think about what it would be like for that to be the last conversation you ever had.

Remember that when next you think about yesterday as a great marketing opportunity, because yesterday was fucking real for your sister and it fucking terrified her. Your sister is lucky to be alive; you're lucky to still be able to talk to her at all. You scared the shit out of both of us this morning with your little stunt and that's not something to be proud of.

I told your sister this morning, Mrs Fitch-Brace, that you've got to grasp life and make the most of it because you're a long time dead. I can tell you this from my own experience, when you live with regrets you're a long time alive as well; and if you don't want to believe me I'm sure James here will back me up. You'll be plagued with regret, with guilt and it'll never let go of you, it will fill your days and it will haunt your nights.

Your sister could walk out of here this afternoon and be shot, blown up, run over, whatever; and this will be the last memory of her you will ever have. You'll second guess yourself every day, wondering if it was something to do with you that got her killed or was it just a coincidence. You'll think about it every time you think of her and everything you see that reminds you _of_ her, will remind you of this last moment _with_ her. Every time you're reminded, you'll feel the pain as if it were fresh and new; and you'll feel it for the rest of your life.

You need to learn to appreciate the people you love Mrs Fitch-Brace, appreciate them while you can, because one thing Iraq and Afghanistan taught me is that life is so very, very fragile. In the end all you have, if you're one of the lucky ones, are the people that love you."

I gave her a small sad smile and watched as she looked over my shoulder, her face pale and shocked. I turned slowly and turned to meet the unfathomable brown eyes of Miss Fitch looking back; flicking between me and her sister.

"Same goes for you too Miss Fitch, if you heard all of that. You're a long time alive, and a long time dead; remember that!"

With that I pushed past her, nodding at Cook as I did so and locked myself in the bathroom, sat on the toilet and silently cried my heart out.

.

.

.

**A/N –** Yeah well, so she's not a total bitch..though who I'm referring to is the interesting question (-;

Oh and finally FFN...sort it out please, all these errors are getting on my nerves, I have stories to review and I can't get to re-read!


	14. Fifteen Minutes of Fame

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt and a severe lack of talent. Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which makes me very upset)

**Authors Note **– Right time to bring someone else into the fold as it were...again!

Sorry for the delay, this whole two story thing is pretty tough work, but honestly this chapter was a killer. It took a long, after work, nap and a burst of effort to get this one done. I think I've read every story on this site and sent far too many PM's in an attempt to procrastinate and avoid writing this...er..I mean get my brain working.

Enjoy...perhaps.

**Chapter 14 – Fifteen Minutes of Fame.**

It didn't take me too long to compose myself after my little private outburst of pain and misery, I don't know why things were affecting me so much; breaking through my hard fought for defences and making me reveal more about myself than I ever had before. I don't know how or why this dysfunctional little family opened me up the way it had.

Well actually I do know, it's because I recognise a lot of their pain, recognise a lot of their bullshit and I don't want Miss Fitch to suffer in the same way I have; but I still don't want to accept why that is.

Taking a deep breath to clear my head I stood up from the toilet where I'd been sitting and gave myself a stiff talking to.

_'Suck it up Campbell, what are you some kind of pathetic fucking loser? You're better than this, suck it fucking up and push on through!'_

Feeling better about myself I turned to leave, only to catch a glance of my face in the small bathroom mirror; frankly I looked a bit of a fright and that won't do.

_'No tears on parade Campbell...no tears on parade.'_

I swilled my face in the small sink and touched up the small amount of make up I was wearing. As I dug the tubes out of my bag, I was thankful that unlike Katie Fitch-Brace, I didn't apply it with a trowel; and it was easy to fix, even for me.

Finally satisfied at my attempts to look normal, I unlocked the bathroom door and made my way outside into the corridor. I was pleased to see that Cook was the only person out there, still stood waiting outside the conference room door.

"They're inside," he said casually as he saw me, "I think they're making up."

He folded his arms across his chest and leaned on the wall, looking at me; eyes unfathomable. I was wondering if I was going to get a bollocking for overstepping my remit, but instead he grinned.

"You give a good speech Blondie, I think you managed to knock more sense into those two in five minutes, than their parents have in twenty five years. Are you sure you don't want your moment of glory in front of the cameras and your adoring fans? If you gave a speech like that about our company we'd be millionaires within the week."

"Not a chance James; sorry, but I'm really not comfortable being in the spotlight you know? Anyway, I think I owe you an apology, I'm really sorry if I embarrassed you or the company with my actions before."

"No problems Blondie, I know you did it for the right reasons and I suspect that they might even thank you for it, they're both good kids; just a little bit too buried in the old sibling rivalry."

His eyes went distant for a second, "I'm glad my brother is so much younger than me we have nothing like that. We get along ok really, when I get the chance to see him that is."

I was about to ask about his brother when he suddenly winked at me conspiratorially. "Besides, if they mention it and Rob says anything about your little speech I'll just put it down to the stress of the last couple of days."

I chucked somewhat uncertainly at that, _'stress indeed but not for the reasons you're thinking of.'_

"Yeah, because I'm so stressed Cookie, it's almost killing me. Jesus it's not like it's the first time I've had people shooting at me you know? I'm almost fucking used to it by now."

Cook regarded me seriously, apparently not fooled by my bravado, _'insightful bastard'_.

"I'm fine James, honestly," I replied to his look with words that I could say, but didn't really feel. I could feel his probing eyes spotting the touched up make up and the slight redness to my eyes that told him of my lies.

"Are you sure you're fine Naomikins? It has been a hectic couple of days. I'd understand if you were feeling a little stressed."

"I'm ok boss, I'm doing absolutely fine. It's not a problem really," I said quickly, not wanting to appear like a pathetic loser in front of him. "It's nothing that a hot bath and a good nights sleep won't solve."

"Yeah, that's what Effy says when she gets home from a shoot; I don't get it, what is it with you women and baths?"

I simply shrugged at his sweeping generalisation. "Talking to the wrong person Cook, I didn't really get the opportunity for a hot bath when I was in Gereshk and I didn't really miss it if I'm honest, showers are fine by me. But that apartment you've put me in appears to have a trendy whirlpool bath and I really fancy giving it a try."

"Well don't make the mistake the last person that used the place did." Confused, I raised an eyebrow in query.

"Daft bastard filled the thing with suds, put in that 'bubble bath' stuff you Brits seem to thrive on, then he turned on the whirlpool. Damn near blew the fucking thing up; filled the room with foam as well. Cost a bloody fortune to repair the damage."

I decided that I liked this side to James Cook, he obviously knew that I was feeling a bit fucked up and he had took it upon himself to lighten the mood and cheer me up; giving me a ridiculous story to make me laugh and take my mind off the day's events. He's a good boss, I guess I can see why JJ likes him and Lara adores him.

I was still laughing at the thought of a room full of soap suds when the door opened and the twins appeared. A happier looking Miss Fitch stepped into the corridor and hugged her sister before turning to leave. Cook winked at me and stepped inside the conference room. As I went to follow Miss Fitch down the corridor I was stopped by a hand on my arm, as I turned around I was hugged again by Katie Fitch-Brace but this time she pressed her lips to my cheek and kissed me.

"Thank you Naomi, for the lecture that is. You were absolutely right; sometimes you just lose sight of the important things. I may never forgive you for abandoning my marketing opportunity, but you're actually all right."

"Thank you Mrs Fitch-Brace, I'm glad to have helped, sorry if I was a bit over the top."

'_Seriously Naomi, can you be any more cheesy?'_

"Call me Katie Naomi, now are you _sure_ I can't persuade you to change your mind?" she pleaded. "The BBC are downstairs right now, it's a chance for fifteen minutes of fame."

"Not chance Mrs…Katie, I don't think I could do my job properly if I was all over the television in person. I'm sure Cook here will do you proud."

We shook hands and I followed Miss Fitch down the labyrinth of corridors and back to her office, still somewhat in shock, somewhat in disbelief. I'm still not sure if I trust Mrs Fritch-Brace as far as I can throw her, but I guess I'll just have to see how that goes.

As we arrived at the doorway I'd so recently stood guard outside, once again I checked the room was safe before letting her in; stepping back into the corridor once again.

"Where are you going? Come on in and sit down." She gestured to a small couch in the corner of her office as she retreated behind her desk. I went to refuse but I was interrupted swiftly.

"Coffee? No it's tea isn't it? You don't drink coffee do you? You said that this morning."

_'How strange, she remembered.'_

"Coffee will be fine, thank you, I just can't drink it first thing in the morning, gives me a headache for the rest of the day."

"Do you want anything to eat, I'm starving, negotiations always make me hungry and we both missed lunch; come on it's my treat, after all it's my fault you haven't had chance to stop and grab something today."

I shrugged, she's right I'd not eaten all day and we were late into the afternoon; to be honest I wasn't really sure on the protocols of eating on the job in the civvy world. In the CPU we got used to stuffing down the contents of a rat pack whenever we got chance, fast food was a necessity when things could change for the worse at the drop of a hat. It's amazing how far a cold tin of Irish Stew and a Snickers bar could take you when you're desperate.

"Right I'll get my PA to sort us something out." She picked up her phone and called someone in the office ordering coffee and take-out for the two of us.

We sat in silence as we waited, Miss Fitch typing into her laptop, me checking out the e-mails on my phone. Cook wasn't kidding me, there had been more than a few people in contact with the office asking after me; and the terribly efficient receptionist, Helen, had dutifully logged all my messages and forwarded them to me.

Some of the messages were from people I'd been through basic training with, eventually losing touch when we were assigned to our units. A fair number were from people that I had served with; one of whom I had no intention of ever speaking to again after they had slammed their door in my face one evening. I hadn't blamed them at the time, but I do resent the false friendship they'd implied in their message, when someone tells me to '_fuck right off'_ and calls me a _'fucking tramp' _I tend to think that any friendship we might have had was well and truly over.

Two of the remaining messages were from distant members of my family, people I'd lost touch with after the funeral of my mother. I thought about contacting them, but the memories were still quite painful even after all these years; there was a reason I'd not been in touch and it hadn't gone away.

But of all the messages I'd been sent, two names stood out from all the rest. One name stood out because it appeared so many times. One name stood out because I never expected to see it again.

"Coffee Miss Campbell?"

I dragged my eyes away from the screen to look up at the young woman that was stood in front of me with a tray. I'd clocked her entry as I looked at my messages, assuming she was the PA Miss Fitch had mentioned; dismissing her as a threat almost automatically. You can sense danger, and this girl definitely wasn't dangerous.

"Er, please." I managed to say, still distracted by my iPhone.

"Milk, sugar?"

"Yes please, white two sugars please."

The young woman dutifully added the milk and sugar to my cup and passed it over to me, spoon carefully balanced on the saucer.

"Thanks, much appreciated" I said getting a beaming smile and a wink.

"Anything for our resident heroine," she said, "I've brought some biscuits to tide you both over until lunch arrives."

She winked at me again as I thanked her once more. I have to admit I was left wondering if she was trying to flirt with me; I quickly threw that thought out of my head when I spotted the rock on her finger.

"Thank you Bonnie, could you bring lunch straight up when it arrives please? I'm starving and I'm sure Miss Campbell is too."

Bonnie smiled, nodded and left us alone. I took a sip of the coffee and looked back at my messages, staring down at the one I had open when I was disturbed.

"Are you all right?"

I looked across at the brunette who was sat facing me, both hands on the cup that was poised next to her moist lips.

"I'm sorry?"

"You look like you've seen a ghost?

I looked down at the message from Helen and the name that was typed carefully above the mobile phone number I recognised instantly.

"Ghost from my past, decided to contact me through the office after seeing my face on the news."

She took a sip of her coffee, licking her lips as she brought the cup away.

"Don't you want to call them then?"

"I don't think I should."

"Oh," she replied. I could tell she was burning with curiosity. I'm not going to help her out though; I really don't like talking about myself, and she's caused me to do far too much of that today; far too _fucking_ much in fact.

"Why not?"

For a second I'm tempted to match her comment from earlier, word for word; tell her it's none of her fucking business, because it fucking isn't. But I can't, I feel too emotionally drained and all I want to do is go home and forget about this day, this stupid publicity bombshell and this fucking job for a few hours. I can't do that either, I've got at least the rest of the day babysitting and I suspect, after landing that deal upstairs, it's going to be a late night as well.

It's going to be a tough enough job without antagonising her any more than I already have, by interfering in her relationship with her sister.

"It's complicated," I replied trying to be noncommittal, hoping that she'd get the hint and leave it alone.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

_'Fucks sake'_

"Not really, water under the bridge."

"Really?"

"Yes really Miss Fitch," I could feel my temper rising, Amy had always told me I had a hair trigger when it came to things like this.

"Someone I used to know wants me to call them, has called over and over again all fucking day. The same someone that told me to go and fuck myself because I wouldn't leave the army. I'm pretty certain that I never want to speak to them again."

'_Jesus fucking Christ, what on earth is fucking wrong with me?'_

I'd just told her all about it without wanting to, without even realising what I was doing. Just how fucking stupid have I become? This messed up fucking family is screwing with my head. I'm used to being totally comfortable inside my head, totally in control when on a job; you can't be anything else if you're going to stay alive. This stupid family feud, these silly fights that make me want to knock their stupid heads together, are eating away at my self control.

It's all too close, all too very close to me.

Because I know how wrong they are, how fucking stupid all this fighting is, how important it is for them not to spend their lives hating each other. I didn't get enough time with my mum after we finally made up, nowhere _near_ enough time and it's a regret I'll carry for the rest of my days; just one more regret in a lifetime full of them.

"..friend?"

I looked up from the phone I was staring at without actually seeing, completely lost in my head.

"You didn't hear a word I said did you?"

I shook my head and looked down again, concentrating on the messages, thumb hovering over the delete button.

"I said is it someone you care about, or are they just a friend?"

I shrugged, ignoring her question and pressed the delete button, finally resolved to put her out of my head forever.

"Neither," I said, finality in my voice. "Not any more."

The uncomfortable silence descended over us again as I returned to my messages and she turned back to her laptop; the only sound was the clicking of keys on her keyboard and the clinking of cups against saucers.

The seconds stretched into minutes, the minutes stretched into eons, eons of time where nothing happened, nothing but that endless clicking. Finally, thankfully, the silence was shattered by the sound of the phone.

"Hi…ok Bonnie…yes bring it up. Could you bring up some more coffee as well? Thanks Bonnie, you're an angel."

She looked across at me, "foods coming now, hope you're ok with Chinese again, there's not much open around here at this time of the afternoon; all the café's close after one."

I looked up from my mobile, "Chinese will be fine, thanks" I replied shortly looking back at the display. I was staring at the other message, the one from Gill, just a short phone message asking how I was, nothing more, nothing even remotely friendly; just a quick hello from another ghost.

I flicked through my contacts list until I found the number for the office, pressing the main number I waited until the call was answered.

"Close Protection, Helen speaking, oh hello Naomi, sorry about that; how are you?"

It totally threw me, though I guess it shouldn't have, for a second I tried to remember who Helen was, lost in a blur of faces the other day. In a second I have it, shortish, well dressed, rectangular designer glasses, pretty. Nothing special, nothing that would make you want to chew your arm off the next morning; your classic girl next door. I remembered her being nice though, polite and friendly; the perfect person for acting as the public face of your company...you got the feeling that nothing was too much trouble for her.

"Er, hi Helen," I answered sheepishly, "I'm ok thanks, how did you know it was me?"

"The computer told me Naomi, caller ID and all that, all of the staff's numbers are programmed in. How can I help you today?"

"Well, I wanted to say thanks for forwarding me all the messages..."

"Oh heavens that's ok Naomi, it's my pleasure...I'd have done it even if it wasn't my job, _everyone_ is talking about you today, you've become a bit of a legend in the office after yesterday."

Her voice lowered to a whisper as if she wanted to include me in some big secret, "your phone call to Mel and JJ has done the rounds already; you were epic, so controlled, so brave! I'd have been scared witless."

"Jesus Helen, please don't tell me that's been leaked to the press as well!"

I could have died there and then at the thought of it all, it was bad enough seeing glimpses of yourself in action on a dodgy mobile phone video, embarrassing enough to see a photo of your younger self on national TV as well. The last thing I needed was my bloody voice being broadcast as well, I could only imagine how many bleeps they'd have to insert to cover up all the swearing I'd probably done. Whitey had always told me my language was somewhat, 'industrial', when I was under stress.

"God no, we wouldn't do that Naomi; Mr Cook and Mr Jones always stress the importance of keeping our business close to the chest. No it was purely an internal thing, honest."

"Thank fuck for that," I replied with feeling, "that would be the last thing I needed, more bloody publicity. Speaking of which, Helen can you do me a favour?"

"Anything for you Naomi."

"Can you stop taking calls, or at least stop logging them for me. Not the personal ones anyway, especially if Miss Jovanovich calls again. Just tell her...tell them I'm busy or something...there's no one I want to speak to really."

"You sure about that Naomi, Miss Jovanovich is quite insistent when she calls, she seems very anxious to speak to you."

I shook my head on hearing that; Amy could be quite demanding, I think that was always part of our problem. "Absolutely sure Helen, especially for Amy, I mean Miss Jovanovich. Just tell her I'm unavailable, out of contact or something, would you please?"

"Sure will Naomi, anything else I can do for you?"

"Yeah, can you see if someone there can find me some information about a group that calls itself Khuddam ul-Islam please? I don't remember a lot about them and I think I need to do some reading."

I spelt out the name to her, or at least I spelt it as well as I could remember, I could hear her repeating the letters as she, presumably, wrote it down.

"I will ask the intelligence team to send over what they've got on them Naomi, do you want them to mail anything they find to your phone?"

"That'd be great Helen, if you could do both of those things for me I'd be eternally grateful."

"It will be my pleasure Naomi, see you soon."

I smiled at her voice, "Yeah, see you soon Helen, thanks."

I hung up the call, my mind lightened by that, and put the phone back into my jacket pocket. It was just in time as well, as Bonnie arrived moments later; knocking and entering bearing a tray laden with cartons of food. I could feel my stomach twitching familiarly as the smell of hot food hit me.

I'd regularly been hungry on my time on the streets, stupidly buying booze or fags, rather than actually buying something to eat; I think I'd managed to convince myself that if I drank and smoked enough it would make the nightmare that was my life go away. Trouble is, it never worked and it didn't ease the hunger, and no matter where you were in London you weren't far from somewhere that sold food; especially if you haven't eaten properly for two days and the mere thought of food was enough to make your stomach cramp in protest. It's funny, but one of the first things I'd learned out there was that whenever you're hungry you can always smell food, especially when you're too broke to buy any.

We'd done training on how to withstand enemy questioning and even torture in the Army, but I'm certain that if you starved me for a week and then wafted a round of freshly buttered toast under my nose I'd have told you anything you wanted to know, including what the tattoo on the underside of my left foot meant and _no one_ knows about that, not even the tattooist.

Bonnie dumped all the cartons haphazardly on the small magazine table that was just out of reach of the small sofa I was sitting on, it looked like I was going to have to eat sitting on the floor. Still, at least I wasn't eating out of bins any more, though it never ceased to amaze me just what shops threw away.

"I've no idea what she's got for us, do you want to pick something or just share?"

I shrugged at her and she threw me a plastic fork and a paper bowl. "Go on then dig in, grab whatever takes your fancy. Bonnie normally gets me more food that I can possibly eat, so there's probably enough for you, me, James _and_ Katie."

As I slumped down next to the table I saw she was right. There were at least two pots of rice, something that was red, something that was yellow and something that, well, something that looked like fried worms.

"Mmm," Miss Fitch said, spooning the worms into her bowl. "Deep fried chilli beef, my favourite...try some you'll love it."

I nodded and spooned some of the bits into the bowl, adding a bit of rice at the same time. She was right, it wasn't bad actually, nice and spicy; but I wasn't sure how my stomach would take it with nothing in there to line it from the shock of the chilli. I like chilli dishes, but on an empty stomach, well that's a recipe for disaster.

Looking at the other cartons, I carefully tried a piece of the yellow stuff and found it was a rather tasty duck in lemon sauce and happily ate that instead, I also discovered that the red was a rather nice chicken sweet and sour and munched away on a few pieces of that as well. After a couple of minutes of chewing I was sorted, my stomach was no longer trying to beat me up and, putting down my bowl, I leaned back on my hands and relaxed.

Miss Fitch kept on eating...and eating...and eating; bits from all the bowls but mostly from the chilli beef dish she so obviously relished. Seriously, I had absolutely no idea where she put it all. For someone so tiny she had a pretty good appetite; I don't remember her eating that much last night, but then I wasn't paying that much attention to her.

Not that I am now, I'm just fascinated by the quantity of food she's putting away; that's all it is.

Finally she put down her bowl and sat back breathing out heavily as if in relief. She looked up at me, noticing for the first time that I was looking at her. She caught me a little by surprise and I didn't have a chance to flick my eyes away and pretend I was looking elsewhere.

"What?"

I looked at the table, fucking _busted_...great; now I get to embarrass myself.

"Nothing, really."

"No, come on what were you looking at? Fuck, did I spill something again?"

She started frantically checking her clothes, looking down at her shirt.

"You haven't spilt anything Miss Fitch, it's fine."

"So come on then Miss Campbell, what were you looking at me like that for?"

There's a hint of hardness to her voice, the bitch is finding her feet again, back on familiar soil without her sister to affect her.

"I was wondering where you managed to put all that food that's all." I said holding her eye contact, not backing down. "I haven't seen someone eat like that since Whitey, that guy could literally eat for England."

"Whitey?" she asked, as I kicked myself for my slip.

"Mate of mine back in the day. His fiancée is one of the people ringing me after your sisters little publicity splurge." I added absently before realising my mistake.

_'Fucks sake Naomi, keep your fucking mouth shut. Don't fucking look at her if this is what she makes you do'_

I'm angry with myself, that's not the first time I've let myself slip in her presence today; shared something with her that's personal and should be private. There's no excuse for it, it's unprofessional, it's annoying and it's _not_ fucking me. I don't do that, I don't share myself with people. Not ever, not anymore. Why the fuck am I doing this?

"Don't you want to talk to her?"

I shook my head and got up from the floor, hoping to escape to the safety of the corridor; hoping to be able to pull down my mask and revert to being Sergeant Naomi Campbell, hard as nails, a block of granite and fucking emotionless to boot. I didn't make it though, didn't make it out before her words cut through me like a shard of shrapnel; asking the question I knew I could answer only one of two ways.

"Why not?"

I took the difficult option, the one that made sense rather than seemed right.

"With the greatest of respect, Miss Fitch, I don't think that's any of your business. Now if you'll excuse me I need to ensure your safety. That is after all what you're paying me for; thanks for lunch."

I closed the door behind me and hoped to Christ that would be the end of her prying.

o+o+o

I had twenty five minutes of peace and quiet stood outside that door before it opened again. Well that's not strictly true, Bonnie did come back to clear away the remnants of our lunch together, smiling and winking at me again as she did so. Other than her I didn't see another soul.

Finally, the inevitable happened and Miss Fitch's brunette head appeared from around the door.

"Have you got a second?"

I nodded and followed her into the office, standing in front of her desk. For the second time that day I felt like I'd been dragged onto the CO's office as I stood, at ease, in front of her desk. She looked up at me and sighed, as if wanting to say something then deciding not to.

"About this evening Miss Campbell. Dad wants to go out and celebrate our successful deal and James has offered to make sure we're all looked after whilst we're out. He says to tell you that 'you're off the hook for the evening', which he assumes will be a relief after the last couple of days."

"Are you sure you don't want me to escort you whilst you're out?"

I didn't mean it, I don't know why I asked it even; I really didn't want to watch the Fitch family have a night out, not with the way they seemed to want to interact most of the time, talk about a fucking soap opera.

"Well, actually I was going to ask if you wouldn't mind tagging along. I know you probably want a break, but I'm not planning to stay out long and...well...well I'd feel a lot safer if you were around to make sure I got home all right. Is that ok? Would you be prepared to do that for me?"

_'Fucking hell, how the fuck do I get out of this?'_

"That's great Naomi, thanks a lot. I really appreciate it."

I stood there like a twat, not even realising that I'd been nodding away at her as she spoke, signing my own death warrant with my stupid subconscious behaviour.

"Paul's going to bring the car around in about half an hour, do you need anything before we head out?"

I shook my head, to be honest a change of clothes would be good after spending most of the morning crawling around her bedroom, and not in a nice way; but what the fuck, I'm decent and I'm here to do a job, it's not like it's a personal invite to go to dinner and drinks is it.

"No Miss Fitch, I'll be fine. Do you know is Cook is available, I'll need to talk logistics with him before we leave, plan out the trip etc, make sure we have all angles covered."

"I think he's still with Katie, but I'll get Bonnie to track him down."

"Thanks. Is that all?" I asked feeling like I'd been dismissed. She pursed her lips slightly but said nothing, just nodding and looking away. I took her look as permission to leave and headed for the door.

"Miss Campbell?"

I stopped in my tracks, getting a little tired of being treated like a fucking servant at her beck and fucking call; before turning around and finding her in front of me.

"Emily Fitch," she said holding out her hand. I furrowed my brow and looked at her outstretched fingers wondering what the fuck she was on about, I know who she fuck she is!

"I realise we didn't exactly have the best introduction and er, I know I can be a bit difficult so..."

She left it hanging there, along with her hand. I stared down at it, not totally sure what to do.

"Could we start again? I mean I'd understand if you told me to fuck off Miss Campbell but, you know, you've been nothing but polite to me and I've been a real cow to you in return. If we're going to be working together I think we should try and get along a bit better, don't you."

I don't, I really don't. It's _really_ not a good idea, especially as I've got only another days work with her…probably…hopefully.

Fortunately I didn't have to make my decision straight away, the one where I can be a bitch and fuck her off, or I can be nice and run the risk of opening myself up again. Fortunately for me the moment is snatched away by the door being flung open to reveal a panting Katie Fitch; stood with her hands on the door jamb and panic in her eyes.

"Katie what's the matter, is everything ok?"

Katie shook her head and pointed at the television, an amused looking James Cook appearing behind her. That was at least a relief, if Cook wasn't looking bothered then whatever it is can't be a big deal.

"Who the hell is she and why is she being filmed in front of our offices?"

Miss Fitch turned on her panting twin who was sucking up air as if it was going out of fashion.

"What's going on Katie. Is this happening now?"

"It's not...my fault...Naomi." she forced out, clearly in need of more exercise and less nights out drinking. "I...had nothing...to do...with it."

I frowned at her and turned to the screen, not failing to notice a sly wink from Cook as I did so. I could feel everyone's eyes on me as I looked at the moving images to see a familiar face, all auburn hair and green eyes, the most perfect white straight teeth and a smile that had almost broken me on more than one occasion.

I stared in horror as a text flash came up on the screen

_'LIVE - Miss Amy Jovanovich - Girlfriend of Sgt Naomi Campbell'_

"Fuck!"


	15. Green Eyed Monster

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt and an extraordinarily severe lack of talent. Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which still makes me very upset because Hawke is right, S5 would be *so* different if I did.)

**Authors Note **– OK I don't often do proper formal dedications, preferring to ramble on in these bits and just mention people in passing, but here goes. Chapter 15 is for two people - _Kat_, because sometimes she needs reminding that she's awesome, and _Summer _because she probably needs something else to read right about now.

So are we all prepared to see the outcome of _'Amygate'_? Good, here you go then; bad language warning ahead though...Amy and Naomi are feeling a little bit grumpy so if you don't like lots of swearing press that back button!

**Chapter 15 – Green-Eyed Monster.**

"What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing here?" I shouted, as her green eyes regarded me impassively.

After seeing Amy appear on the screen I'd silently freaked out, trying desperately not to let it show, livid that she would think of turning up here to worm her way back into my life. She'd been rapidly escorted to the conference room on my orders by one of JJ's team; I was anxious to keep her away from the press before she could spread any more lies about us.

"What does it look like Barb? You didn't return my calls so I came here to see you in person."

"Don't fucking call me that Amy. How the fuck did you find out I was here?"

"It was a guess babes, but it doesn't take a genius to work it out. Your office said you weren't there and you're all over the TV linked to this place, so I took a chance. I saw the press outside and made a bit of a fuss about who I was and blagged my way in here past your Dobermans on the front desk."

"Blagged your way in!" I yelled my anger at her calm demeanour pretty much consuming me, "you told the fucking press that I was your fucking girlfriend Amy, what the fuck was that all about?"

"I wanted to see you Barb, needs must and all that. Besides I am your girlfriend, or at least I was."

"Fuck you Amy, fuck you and the fucking horse you rode in on. Girlfriend? You're not my fucking girlfriend, you fucking walked away from me remember? You were the one that fucking ended us because you couldn't accept me for who I am. Why don't you just fuck off and leave me alone; or should I just say '_stay the fuck out of my life'_?"

I threw her last words to me straight back at her, feeling the rage pulsing through my body as I remembered how it had gone.

o+o+o

"_So you won't leave the army then Barb,"_ she'd said to me on that bright autumn day last year; just weeks before I shipped out on my fourth combat tour with the CPU.

"_I can't Amy, it's my life, they're my boys, I can't leave them they won't survive without me."_

It was true as well, or at least it was to me. I was absolutely convinced that if I wasn't there then we'd lose someone again. I needed to be there and switched on to keep everyone alive. I'd failed when I lost Whitey, failed him, failed Gill and failed my unit. I wasn't going to allow that to happen again; my boys needed me out there to get them all home safely.

"_What, and you think _I'll_ be able to survive without you? Do you really think I care that little about you?"_ she'd replied a look of pleading in her eyes. _"I'm fucking terrified every time you fuck off Barb, I sit here at home and worry about you; I shit myself every time I hear that we've lost someone else in Afghanistan. Every time I hear it I think it could be you."_

She paused for a second, her shoulders slumping, her breathing ragged, tears falling from her eyes.

"_Naomi, all I ever asked of you was that if you cared about me, if you really cared, that you would serve out the rest of your time and then get out before they sent you off to war again. I wanted you to get a proper job, a safe fucking job, and move in with me. Do the normal things, get a proper house with a garden, a cat and a dog; I don't know, fucking get married and have kids and all that stuff. That's what I wanted to do, that's what I wanted _us_ to do."_

"_I told you, I don't want to do that Amy, not yet anyway. The army's my life, it's where I belong babe you know that, it's my fucking home and it has been since mum died. You _know_ all that; we've had this conversation before, lots of times."_

We had as well, we'd had it many, many times over the couple of years we'd been together. Amy loved the idea of introducing me to people as her pet soldier, as her Action fucking Barbie Doll; _'the one with the handcuffs that come as standard'_ she'd tell her friends with a saucy wink. But she hated me actually being in the army; hated the danger, the people, the constant separation that went with serving in an active duty station.

When I had time to think, on those lonely nights on tour, I realised the sad truth of my thoughts. I was little more than a pet, a fucking trophy girlfriend. I was the 'all action Barbie doll' that Amy could show off like another piece of her fucking wardrobe; though less important to her than her clothes or her jewellery.

I was just one more thing that would allow her to say _"look at me, look at ME!"_ to all our "friends", the people she knew and liked, but I didn't. I didn't really know any of _our_ friends, hated most of them for their shallow beliefs and their petty attitudes. They weren't my friends, I didn't have any friends, apart from the few she didn't want me to see. I actually think she was happy when Whitey was killed, because I cut myself off from the rest of the boys, and I was finally hers alone.

I think it was that realisation that soured the relationship for me; not that it was much of a relationship in the first place. If I'm absolutely honest with myself I was never one hundred percent when it came to Amy and me. Once the initial lust fell by the wayside it all got a bit staid. She hated the fact that I would vanish for months at a time on active duty or on training or on exercise. She resented the fact that then I could only see her when I was on leave or over a rare satellite call home. As far as I was concerned the time apart was probably the only thing that kept us together, I never got the chance to become properly bored with her; and if I'm truthful, the reunions were mind blowing.

"_I'M your home Barb or I'm _fucking_ supposed to be," s_he screamed back at me, once again ignoring everything I was trying to tell her. "_You're supposed to love me! You fucking say it, you say it to my face but you don't fucking mean it do you? You love your fucking 'boys' more than you've ever loved me; you always fucking have. Well I've had enough Naomi, I've had enough of it all. It's time you chose, me or the fucking army, because if you decide to ship out again then this is it; we'll be fucking over, I'm not going through all this again."_

I remembered clearly just how vivid those green eyes were, just how stunning she looked when she was pissed off and how much I hated her for having the audacity to try and force me to choose between her and my life in the army; a life I didn't think I could do without.

"_I'm going back to Afghanistan Amy, I've already re-upped for the tour. We ship out three weeks on Wednesday. That's what I've been trying to tell you for the last month, but you've never given me the chance. You never bothered to listen; you never do."_

She stared at me, her mouth slightly open, I watched the realisation of what I'd just said flash across her eyes, the knowledge of what I'd done and the understanding that I knew what was about to happen. She'd told me then and she'd told me before that she'd leave me if I signed up again. Now she knew the truth, I'd already done it, I'd done it ages ago and not told her; and despite my protestations that I had tried to tell her, I knew I'd never tried very hard. Big brave Action Barbie, a coward to the end.

"_So you did it, you really fucking did it! You made that decision without even fucking talking to me about it? Without even having the fucking decency to sit me down and fucking explain yourself? _

_Another five fucking years fighting in that fucking shit hole, is that what you've signed yourself up for? Well fuck you Naomi fucking Campbell, fuck you for being a selfish fucking bitch and thinking of no-one but your-_fucking_-self as usual." _

Her eyes flashed with anger, despite the tears that were falling from her eyes.

"_Amy babe, don't be like that." _I said, trying to resolve the situation, finding that despite all the training I didn't have a clue how to handle this kind of conflict; the one between lovers.

"_No _you_ don't be like that Naomi; fuck you! Do you know, right now I wish I'd never fucking met you? Fucking years we've been together and do you know what? I barely fucking know anything about you. Do you know we've hardly ever spent longer than a few months together before you're off for weeks or months at a time with your precious fucking army; fucking training or fighting. It never fucking ends does it? You keep using it as a fucking excuse not to commit to me, to us. Well that's it, I'm not going to be your part time fucking girlfriend anymore; I _want_ more than that Naomi, I _need_ more than that from you."_

"_Amy,"_ I tried to interrupt her tirade as she stomped around the tiny living room of her Basildon flat.

"_Don't fucking 'Amy' me Barb I'm tired, so sick and fucking tired of always coming second to your precious fucking 'boys,' your all important fucking army career. Get out Naomi, get the _fuck_ out of my home. I'll send your shit to the base, fuck knows you've got almost nothing here, so it won't take me long to pack it all up. Get the fuck out of my house and stay the fuck out of my life. I never want to see your fucking face ever again."_

I ducked a hurriedly thrown picture, absently noting it was one of the two of us taken on a weekend away in Scotland, and I did as she asked. I had left her crying and screaming in her small flat and returned to my other life, a life where I was happy, where I could just be me. In a way it was a relief, it was what I'd wanted to happen after all. She was too needy, too fucking clingy; introducing me to her friends as her fiancée and acting like I should think of no-one else but her.

I was, in truth, sick of her actions, sick of being treated like one of her dolls; but I still didn't feel good about what I'd done. I'd taken the cowards option, pushed her away so I could convince myself it was her fault, her decision; and that was tough to bear.

Four days later a parcel arrived on base; a small cardboard box addressed to me and hand delivered to the guardhouse. There wasn't much in it, some clothes, some old makeup, the odd personal item I'd left behind and a gold necklace I'd bought her when we were in Dubai. There wasn't a note, no return address nothing to identify it at all except my name and service number. In fact there was nothing to indicate who it had come from apart from that necklace and my knowledge of where those things had been last seen.

With a deep sigh I unpacked everything I wanted from the box and stuffed it into my locker, throwing the rest away. I sat for a while on my bunk staring at her necklace before placing it into a padded envelope and mailing it back to her.

It wasn't mine, it was hers; whether she wanted it or not.

In hindsight I guess I should have sold it, but I just couldn't bring myself to do it. If I'd sold it, or pawned it or something it might have helped to clear some of my debts. I'd been living far beyond my means all the time Amy and I had been together and I needed the combat pay that another tour in Afghanistan would bring me, to try and get myself straight again.

Holidays, meals in expensive restaurants, tickets for her to meet me in Dubai; little gifts, and far too many nights out. That's not even counting all my other commitments. They all add up, even on a Sergeants pay, and eventually there's nowhere left to run from the people you owe. Not even if you run to a war torn hell hole, the place that Satan called home.

I was fucking broke, beyond broke in fact, and no-one else knew it, not even her, especially not her.

o+o+o

The necklace I'd given her was the first thing I'd seen as I walked in to meet her again. She was wearing it as I looked at her cool, smug face in the conference room in Fitch Towers. Was she wearing it as a trophy, or as a symbol? I wasn't sure which, but it hung around her neck to remind me what she was really like.

It was probably her third mistake after coming here and lying to the press.

"I'm going nowhere Barb, I wanted to speak to you; I missed you...and they said on the TV that you'd been hurt, had to leave the army."

"Oh yeah," I sneered back, my anger not abating. "Yeah you _really_ missed me didn't you sweetheart, I'm sure you missed me as soon as you saw my face on TV yesterday. I know you would have been notified of my injuries back in December Amy; I never did remove you from my next of kin information. They would have wrote to you, but you never once tried to get in touch did you babe? If you missed me so much why did you never try before eh?"

"You never tried to contact me either Barb, not since you sent this back with that fucking 'sorry' note."

Her fingers flicked to the necklace, toying with it, drawing my eyes to that cleavage I'd spent so much time staring at in the past. She was right, I'd never tried to get in touch, but then that was exactly what she had wanted, no, demanded.

"You told me to fuck off Amy and that's exactly what I did. You told me to stay the fuck out of your life and I respected that because I thought I'd hurt you."

She took a step closer to me and I snapped my eyes to hers, a silent warning to back the fuck off, one that she didn't bother heeding reaching out her hand to stroke my arm.

"You did hurt me Barb, you really did. All I wanted was for you to leave the army and get a safer job, one where you wouldn't get hurt or worse; and now look at you. You're out, out of that fucking hell hole of a job and I thought that you might want to give us another try; you know, now you don't have the army as a mistress coming between us all the time."

I took a step back from her as she sidled up to me like the predator she was. I'm interested, oh how I'm interested; she's extraordinarily fuckable and we did have our moments together, some very good moments together in fact…most of them in bed.

We may have been very, very wrong for each other, but in some ways we were so right as well.

But then my eyes catch on that necklace, that symbol to me of the bad times and how in deep I'd gotten myself with the bank, with the credit cards...debts I still owed, and needed to pay off once I was properly on my feet. I'd made a good start, before I left the army, but there was still things to sort out and I can't do that with her around, I can't help myself being stupid when I'm with her.

"I don't want to do that Amy," I told her forcefully repeating my words from last year, the words I said before she threw me out. "I don't think we've got a future together; let's face it if it's not the army it'll be something else. I've got an opportunity for a new life with this job, one that doesn't involve sleeping on the streets of fucking London because I had no one in the world left to turn to."

Her mouth fell into a surprised "o" shape at my words, '_yeah that's right Amy, I'd rather have slept rough than contact you...how does that make you feel?'_

"This job wouldn't suit you Amy," I continued, totally sure of the truth of my words. "I've only had it three fucking days and I've already been attacked on my first day and shot at on my second. We'd be straight back where we left off and I'm too fucking tired to put up with your shit anymore."

She reeled backwards for a second before sweeping back in and wrapping her arms around my neck.

"It won't be like that again Barb, I only hated the army because it took you away from me..."

"You _hated_ the army because you were a jealous bitch Amy, and we both know it. You hated anything that stopped you thinking you owned me, stopped you parading me in front of your mates." I said, lifting her arms from my shoulders and dropping them to her waist; holding them there firmly as she tried to lift them again.

"I'm a different person now Amy, nearly dying in the desert made me see things very clearly and living on the streets after the army kicked me out made me re-evaluate my life. I don't want this and I don't want you.

Just go Amy, it was nice to see you again, but please...just leave me alone."

Her eyes flicked over my shoulder to the petite brunette that I knew had entered through the double doors, clearing her throat as she did so to attract our attention.

"Sorry to interrupt," Miss Fitch said without a hint of apology in her voice. "Naomi; Paul is about to bring the car around so we can go to dinner, Daddy wants to celebrate the deal we won today. Are you ready to leave or do you need a few more minutes with Miss Jovanovich here?"

Amy glared at Miss Fitch for her interruption; hatred flashing across her eyes, another unhappy reminder of the worst of our times together; her petty, unjustified jealousy of anyone that I knew that she didn't.

"No, I think I'm done here." I replied, not taking my eyes off my ex. "I don't think Amy and I have anything else to say to one another, not anymore."

"Fine, I'll go and get my things, meet you in my office?"

"Sure."

"Miss Jovanovich," she said, turning her face to regard Amy, her voice as cold and bitchy as it had been when she spoke to me back in their mansion. "I'll have my PA Bonnie here escort you to the lifts. _Please_ don't take this personally, but Fitch Industries would appreciate it if you _didn't_ come back in the near future. Daddy wants me to tell you that he does not appreciate our business being disturbed, especially by someone that brings the press to our doorstep without prior approval. If you wish to meet Naomi again I suggest you do it on your own time, or arrange it through the proper channels; either through her company or through me. Do I make myself clear."

Amy looked down at the pint sized pit-bull that was glaring back at her and fuck me if she didn't back down and nod simply. I was expecting an explosion, all I got was a fizzle. Emily Victoria Fitch had cowed the evil ex-girlfriend, and she'd done it better than I ever could; without one raised voice or one harsh word.

I held out my hand to Amy, hoping that she'd shake it, hoping that she would accept the truth and could act like adults and leave me the fuck alone to rebuild my shattered life. My hopes were shattered when she grabbed it, brought it to her lips and kissed the tips of my fingers before closing my fist and kissing my knuckles. She held my eye content as she did so, looking away, only after she had finished her little act, to glare at Miss Fitch before returning to me; a hint of triumph in her eyes.

"This isn't over Barb, I don't give up that easily, not even _that_ little bitch is going to come between us."

I didn't understand what she meant about Miss Fitch, but that wasn't important. She had to understand that it was finally, totally, ended between us.

"Don't even try Amy; it's over," I said yanking my hand away. "We both know it, just leave me alone. I've got a new life now, don't fuck it up for me. If you ever really gave a shit about me Amy, don't fuck me up, and don't try and put me in a position where I might fuck you over again. Go back to your life Amy, go back to that lovely life you always wanted, the one with all of your perfect friends, your perfect family; just go back to them all and forget about me ok?"

She walked past me to the doorway and the waiting Bonnie who smiled and went to lead her away. As she got to the double doors Amy turned and looked at me again.

"I can't forget about you Barb, I still love you; I always did you know? Even after our fights, even after we split up, I never stopped loving you."

I stared back at her, my eyes as sad as hers seemed to be, as I decided to put the truth out there for her and anyone that gave a shit to see.

"You _never_ really loved me Amy; the truth is you never really knew me. If you loved anything, it was the person you _thought_ I should be; that you wanted me to be. If you had really loved me you wouldn't have forced me to choose like that. You wouldn't have treated me the way you did, making me _want_ to choose the army over you. It's better that you just accept that and move on ok? Why don't you just admit that the only reason you're here today is because I was on fucking television."

"That's not true," she screamed, trying to defend herself. "I'm here because I care about you."

I snorted at her, sick of her bullshit.

"I'm here because I _know_ you still care about me Naomi," she told me as the others looked on. "Deep down I know you still love me Barb."

"Amy, get it into your head; I don't love you," I told her with finality in my voice. "I never really loved you. You were _always_ just a bit of fun, someone to come home to after a shit tour you know?"

She blinked at me, opened her mouth to reply then fled; leaving me with the bitter taste of ashes in my mouth. I didn't like what I'd done, it was true I never really loved her, but she was more than just a bit of fun. I watched as she ran from the boardroom, tears falling freely, and sat in the nearest chair feeling like my victory was the biggest defeat I'd ever faced.

o+o+o

As I sat in the chair, feeling the true weight of my defeat, I felt a small hand press down on my shoulder and looked up to see Miss Fitch looking down at me sadly.

"You ok Miss Campbell?"

"Oh, I'm fine Miss Fitch," I replied, my natural, sarcastic tone pervading my voice. "I'm great, in fact I've never been fucking better."

"So that really was your ex-girlfriend then?" She said ignoring my tone, replying with a faint hint of surprise in her voice.

"Yeah, that was her in the flesh. Fucking lovely isn't she?"

"Well she's certainly not what I expected."

I raised an eyebrow at that comment wondering what it was supposed to mean.

"Well you know it's not that she wasn't lovely, but you know? Well I didn't realise...you know..."

_'Ah right'_, I took a deep breath and stood up from the chair and strode past her towards the doorway. I stopped as I got to the now familiar double doors, and paused for a moment or two, collecting my thoughts before turning to give yet one more speech I've had to give what feels like a hundred times in my life.

"Yes Miss Fitch, Amy was my girlfriend and just because I'm not straight, well, believe me it won't affect the way I treat you in any way, shape or form; ok?

"No, Miss Campbell, I didn't..."

I ignored her protests, ignored her shallow defence, just like I'd done a hundred, no a thousand times before with other people.

"It doesn't matter Miss Fitch; look, I'm sorry she came and I'm sorry if she or I embarrassed you or your father. I'll try and make sure it doesn't happen again. Now I believe you mentioned that Mr Fitch is waiting to take you to dinner to celebrate your success today, and you don't want to keep him waiting...shall we?"

I gestured towards the hallway and Miss Fitch nodded and walked through the double doors and down the corridor, not once meeting my eye.

_'Oh fuck, here we go again.'_

_._

_._

.

A/N - OK so Naomi is a bit of a bitch, poor old Amy eh, how can you possibly hate her? So Naomi is now officially "out"...I wonder where that might take us?

_Hawke_, see why Cook couldn't oblige you with your nickname? Perhaps later yeah?

Finally _heartacheavenue_ - if you're still reading hope this goes someway to explaining what I meant in reply to your review for CH3...all in the plan, everything is in the plan. There's a reason for everything I write...well nearly everything (-:

Shame it takes me ages to get there because I keep adding to the plan lol.


	16. Blue Elephant

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt and an impressively severe lack of talent. Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which makes me very upset). I do apparently own a potty mouth though, or my characters do (-:

**Authors Note **– OK to answer Hawke's question 78 times in one form or another, but they _were_ both very upset!

Sorry if anyone was offended, but then I assumed you'd have to be either clean mouthed puritans or that you'd never been in a proper stand up argument...or both.

Hope it explained a bit of the back story I hinted at a long time ago, (see even when I'm messing about like this I can't help linking things (-: )

So here we are at Chapter 16, bit lighter this one - you might like the end, maybe a bit in the middle as well - lol.

**Chapter 16 – Blue Elephant.**

I didn't say much for the rest of the day, deciding that doing the job I was employed for was the best thing I could do to keep my temper. Fortunately Miss Fitch had given me the way out from dealing with my past and I wasn't going to let it affect me.

Firmly I placed the disaster that was me and Amy Jovanovich back into its box and concentrated on looking out for danger and keeping Miss Fitch alive as we transferred her to the restaurant. It wasn't a difficult job to be fair, Cook was with me as was Simon, one of JJ's team, and we were only going down to the underground car park. Still, complacency gets you killed and I'm anything but complacent; even Cook impressed me with his tactical awareness as we worked our way across the car park to the waiting limousine. He was a good oppo, you could see the talent in every footstep, every twist of the head. I don't want to sound big headed, but he reminded me of me.

Opening the rear door I ushered the twins and their father into the car. Once they were safely inside I nodded to Cook who followed them in before slamming the door and heading up front. As I slipped into the passenger seat Rob's voice came over the intercom.

"Naomi, what are you doing up there kid, come and sit back here and join us."

"Sorry Mr Fitc...er...Rob, someone needs to keep an eye on things from up here. It's SOP to have someone ride shotgun."

"Naomi, that's what Simon's stood outside your door for. He's on shotgun duty today, we need you on personal protection. Get your ass back here Blondie, that's an order."

I snorted at Cook's attempt at orders but unbuckled my seat belt. Paul the young driver was looking at me again and I resisted the temptation to hit him.

"I've warned you about staring at my tits Paul, do it again and I might have to make you see a dentist, get me?"

"Naomi..." Cook's voice carried a subtle warning over the intercom, the intercom that I hadn't realised was still active.

"Sorry Boss, just dealing with the hired help you know?" I glared at Paul once more before exiting the vehicle and nodding at Simon who had been waiting patiently outside. Opening the rear door I stepped into the back and took the only seat that remained, next to Miss Fitch.

"Naomi, I meant to say earlier, I'm sorry to have to ask you to work at tomorrow's soiree," Rob said as we drove out of the car park and into the crowded streets. "I know I promised you an invitation to our little bash."

"It's fine," I replied quickly, "I don't really do soiree's Mr Fitch. I don't really drink alcohol anymore; In fact I've only had one drink in weeks and Mr Cook here bought me that one and I didn't actually drink it, just tried it."

"Blondie, you don't drink...I may just have to fire you for that." Cook said, chuckling away at his own joke.

"At least you won't find me drinking on the job at parties James, or calling in sick with a hangover; look at it that way."

"Well, that's true; good point Naomi."

They chatted amongst themselves as I busied myself looking out of the windows, I'm not used to just sitting back and relaxing on the job the way Cook seemed able to do; I don't know Simon, the guy that's riding shotgun, and I don't know how good he is. Whitey used to think it was hilarious that I couldn't even take a taxi journey without scanning my surroundings for danger, my instincts and training always taking over.

But then that's the reason why I'm alive and he's dead; well one of the reasons anyway, not the main reason...that still lies with me; it's still my fault he's dead.

The streets were noisy, crowded but quiet, quiet in the sense that I'd seen nothing of note. I had my eye on a Red Ford Focus that had been behind us for a while, but I didn't think that it was anything too suspicious, at least it hadn't made any dangerous moves. Cook had been watching me with interest for the last few minutes and finally he turned to look at the vehicle that I kept returning to.

"Problem Naomi?"

I felt Miss Fitch tense next to me as he asked me the question and her big brown eyes tracked my every moment.

"Don't think so boss, that Red Ford has been behind us for a while that's all. It's done nothing obvious but it's attracted my attention. Probably just more press."

"Or your mad stalker ex-girlfriend," he joked, causing me to frown. Sensing my displeasure he changed the subject rapidly.

"I'll see what Simon thinks," he said quickly pressing a button on a console built into the roof lining and speaking again. "Simon, Naomi's spotted a Red Ford behind us, any thoughts?"

"I've seen it too Mr Cook, it doesn't appear to be any threat, but I've been watching it. Do you want me to call the office and have it checked out?"

Cook looked at me and I shook my head fractionally, he tilted his head and replied. "Not right now Simon, use your initiative though; keep an eye on it and if it does anything suspicious call it in."

"Will do Mr Cook."

Cook released the button and sat back in his seat. Rob Fitch had been twisted in his seat, staring behind us as we had spoke. Now he turned back to look at us.

"On the ball again Naomi, I have to say James, this girl is very good. Looks like your man up front is pretty good as well."

"All my team are good Rob, " Cook replied, keeping up the subliminal sales pitch. "Perhaps not as good as Naomi here, but I only ever hire the best. No point in being second best in this game. Second best gets people killed."

He smiled at me and nodded at the woman sat next to me, "Are you all right there Emily?"

I turned my head to look at her, she was staring out of the back window of the limo ignoring everything and everyone around her, she was as pale as she was when we pulled into the car park at the flat; looked about as scared as well. I tapped her on the arm, causing her to jump and stare at me.

"James was wondering if you were all right Miss Fitch."

She blinked at me, eyes confused before I saw her shields come down and her eyes harden. She turned back to Cook.

"I'm fine, thank you James."

Katie snorted from her seat next to her Dad who was looking at Miss Fitch his eyes clouded. I leaned across to her and whispered in her ear.

"You're a fighter remember? Embrace the fear Miss Fitch, grab hold of it and use it ok? You're stronger than this. Don't let it rule you."

As I sat back I saw Cook look at me quizzically; I met his gaze, my face impassive. _'You're not getting anything out of me James, not this time; those words were for Miss Fitch alone and you don't need to know about them.'_

I heard her take a deep breath and let it out, when she spoke again her voice sounded lighter yet harder, not the total bitch I know, but not far off it. The presence that was Katie Fitch-Brace causing her to retreat slightly from the total cow she could be, even in her dad's presence.

It's just one more piece to the puzzle. One minute she's a hard faced bitch, then she's a terrified child, then she's a sulker and then finally she's a lovely young woman who's intelligence shines through. I still don't get her though, I really don't. I wish I understood why she has these different personalities and why she feels the need to use them. After all I've only got one spare personality that I use, and keeping that up is hard enough for me.

"So where are we planning to eat tonight daddy?" she asked raising another unconscious snort from Katie.

"Well I was thinking about going to the Blue Elephant, we haven't been there for a while have we girls?"

"Great idea dad, Emily and I just love Thai food don't we Ems?"

I'm sure that she does, I'm also sure that after two Chinese meals on the trot Thai food is not likely to be at the top of Miss Fitch's food agenda. To my surprise though she just nodded without any form of a protest and looked out of the window.

"So Naomi," Cook started with a grin on his face, "your ex turning up like that, that had to be a surprise didn't it?"

This time it was my turn to snort in disgust.

"Aw come on Naomi, it's been what, six, seven months since you last saw her, it must have been nice to catch up."

I glared at his smiling face, James Cook has just gone back into button pressing mode to try and tease me and I'm not sure why. Especially given where we were and who we were with.

"I haven't seen her since August last year, we didn't exactly part on the best of terms; so if you don't mind I'd rather not talk about her."

"Come on Blondie, she's a good looking girl, you can't tell me there wasn't a little spark when you saw her again. She made the effort to come and see you, you must mean something to her."

"She said that she doesn't want to talk about it James," said my new saviour, Katie Fitch-Brace; "and I don't think it's very fair of you to tease her about it given the circumstances."

Cook raised an eyebrow at the brunette that had leapt to my defence and dropped the subject. Unfortunately someone else in the car wasn't so nice.

"Did I overhear her calling you Barb Miss Campbell, is Barbara your middle name or something?"

Cook laughed out loud at Miss Fitch's words, "Emily, I bet Naomi here would love to have something as normal as Barbara for a middle name."

She looked at him blankly while Katie sniggered next to him before smiling across at me. "Come on Naomi, share," she insisted, causing a wave of agreement.

"Jesus, I wish I'd stayed up front now." I muttered to myself, Cook winked at me and I wondered if he'd heard me.

"There's nothing wrong with my middle names James," I replied, finally decided that enough was enough. "My mother named me for a reason and I cherish every one of the names she gave me. I for one, don't find them funny."

His face fell a little at that, the humour replaced by something else, something I couldn't put my finger on.

"What did she call you Naomi?"

I closed my eyes and took a breath, anyone but her...why couldn't it have been anyone but her? I could have happily told each and every one of them to fuck off and left it there; but no, it has to be Emily Fitch that asks, and she has to ask in that voice I keep finding I can't say no to.

"Emily Victoria Fitch meet Naomi Easter Moonbeam Campbell" Cook said, with just a hint of amusement in his voice. Miss Fitch held out her hand, mirroring the gesture she'd made in her office, before Amy had come crashing her way back into my life again.

"Emily Victoria Fitch, pleased to meet you."

I ignored her hand again and used the opportunity to give Cook a glare that spoke volumes of about how much time he had left on this earth. Katie and Rob were smirking silently probably both at my name and the tension between the two of us. Cook just looked back at me unconcerned, relaxing into his seat.

"Not funny James." I told him

"Never said it was Barb."

"I'd rather you didn't use that name either Mr Cook." I said as coldly as I could. "It's an annoying pet name Amy had for me and I never liked her using it. _She_ always thought it was funny, _I_ never did."

The car fell silent once more, the tension building; until I received a nudge in the side from Miss Fitch.

"You didn't say why your mum gave you those names Naomi. I got mine from mum and dad, mum chose Emily because that's my Gran's middle name and dad chose Victoria because he had some royal family thing going on at the time."

"Hey, you are my little princesses and I wanted to give you names that were fitting. Victoria and Elizabeth, good strong names for my big strong girls."

He flung an arm around Katie's shoulders as she sat next to him and dragged her into a hug; she shrieked and giggled as he did so.

"Yeah, come on Naomikins tell us about those names. My dad called me James Alouicious Cook if that's any consolation to you. He said I'm named after my great grand-pappy Franklin Alouicious Cook, but I found out that St Alouicious is the patron saint of the insane. I think that's kinda more fitting for me, you know? After all you have met Effy and she can have her moments."

"Fine," I sighed, deciding that playing along would be less hassle in the long run. "She called me Naomi because it means pleasure, and apparently that's what I brought her. She named me Easter because that's when I was I was born, close to Easter time anyway; and she called me Moonbeam because I was born at night and she swears that the moon was shining down on her the whole time she was in labour. She used to call me her 'child of the moon' when I was growing up."

"She sounds nice," Miss Fitch told me

"She was."

I went back to staring out of the window, looking for trouble and hoping that they'd just leave me the fuck alone. I wasn't happy, I wasn't comfortable and I longed for anonymity and silence.

"Do you know what your name means in Japanese?" Katie asked me fiddling with her phone. I nodded briefly, not bothering to look at her; of course I did.

"Straight and beautiful apparently, that's really funny."

"What's funny Katie?" Miss Fitch asked grabbing the phone off her sister and reading the entry.

"Well it doesn't really suit her does it? Straight and beautiful, Naomi's hardly straight is she?"

She looked across at me and winked; I couldn't help but laugh at her absurd comment and the tension in the vehicle rapidly evaporated.

o+o+o

I didn't join them all for their celebratory dinner. Despite their insistence I'd decided that a bit of peace and quiet was necessary, a chance to clear my mind. I've barely had a moment alone since I set foot in Fitch fucking Manor and I really needed a bit of 'me' time. So I'd happily left the job of maintaining the small talk and the schmoozing to Cook and focused on doing my job. If I'm honest I'm still a bit annoyed at the events in the back of that fucking car, and when we get a second James Cook and I are going to discuss what happened.

Boss or not, that was a shitty thing to do to me and I'm not fucking happy.

After making sure that the restaurant was safe, inside and out; I had excused myself and made my escape. I'd headed off to the bright yellow lights of a take-away restaurant and bought myself a meal. It's not good for me, and the meal that I've bought doesn't even taste that good; plus it brings back some very bad and very recent memories. However, I've got to eat something; I'm still convinced, despite Miss Fitch's assurances, that this is going to be a long night.

I'd crammed down the cardboard tasting burger and headed back to the restaurant. I relieved Simon from his duties out at the front of the restaurant and let him get something to eat himself. There's no real danger here, the place is well lit, off the beaten track and I'm sure no one followed us, the red Ford peeling away long before we got near to Fulham. But I'm here to do a job, and do it I will, no matter how long it takes.

I made it my business to walk around the restaurant using the small path down the side to be able to check the rear alleyway. I reasoned that if I was going to attack the Fitch family I'd either walk in the front door as bold as brass, or sneak in through the kitchens and hit them from the rear. I was two hours into my 'patrol' and I was on my fifth check of the evening when I was disturbed for a second by a movement to the side of me. Something had caught my eye, and I spun and dropped my hips defensively, hands stiff and ready for trouble. As I turned I came face to face with a pair of green eyes, green eyes that looked at me with disdain for spoiling their evening.

"Hello puss," I said scratching the cats ears as it rubbed up against my hand. "You having a good night my little friend?"

The cat purred happily as I stroked it, before flicking its tail at me as it turned. It leapt gracefully off the bin it was stood on and headed off down the alley like the silent hunter it was.

"That's right you leave me here alone." I called after it softly as it vanished into the night. "They always do," I muttered silently into the darkness of the alley. Quickly I did what I came down here for, I checked the rancid smelling back of the restaurant, nodding at the chef that was stood outside the back door smoking before walking back up the narrow gap in the buildings towards the main road.

"Miss Campbell?"

Simon's voice called me back to the front entrance and a waiting Emily Fitch, huddling into her coat against the cold I hadn't even noticed.

"I'd like to go home now Naomi if that's all right?" she said rubbing her hands together. "I've got a car waiting for us that'll drop you off at yours."

"It's all right with me Miss Fitch; Simon will you be ok holding down the fort here?"

"Absolutely fine Miss Campbell, between Mr Cook and myself I doubt there will be any danger. You have a safe journey and a good evening Ma'am."

He waved over a black car that was parked on the other side of the road and went to allow Miss Fitch inside.

"Hold on a second Simon," I said putting out a hand to stop Miss Fitch getting into the car. "ID?" I said to the driver standing slightly back from the open window.

"It's ok Naomi," Miss Fitch said at me comforting tone. "This is Darren, he works for Katie and does a bit of driving for us if he's needed. I know him pretty well actually, he's engaged to Bonnie, my PA?"

She asked it as if I would have forgotten who Bonnie was; as if I would see her as unimportant, someone that could be dismissed, discarded, forgotten about. I suppose in her world that's what people are like. It's a real shame because in my world at least, everyone is important; no matter how lowly their position may be. There may be officers and ranks and shit in the army, but when the metal rain falls from the sky you're all one together. Rank's just there to get things done when it needs to be done; rank's what keeps people alive in the rain, rank's one thing, but it's experience that means you know how important each member of your team is; whether they've got stripes or pips, or spots on their arse.

To his credit Darren didn't even blink and had already held up a Fitch Industries ID card. It had obviously seen better days; and, admittedly, had been stuck back together with sellotape at some point. Ordinarily I'd have sent him away, or at least checked further; but with a personal recommendation from Miss Fitch I was prepared to let it slide. He raised an eyebrow at me as I slid into the passenger seat after Simon had, with my blessing and a swift apology for his carelessness, opened the door for Miss Fitch to climb into the back seat.

"Right then Ladies where to?" he asked in a broad East End Accent, a little too broad I would have said if I had been asked.

"Home please Darren, then would you mind dropping Miss Campbell off at her apartment."

"Sure will Emily, Bonnie's round at her mums at the minute so apart from the pub I'm at a bit of a loose end anyways. I'll be able to pick her up on the way back this way, I'll win some brownie points."

Miss Fitch sniggered at his comment from the back seat before speaking. "Thanks for agreeing to pick me up Darren. I really appreciate you coming out on such short notice."

"Not a problem Emily, it's always a pleasure."

We drove in almost total silence. Unlike that idiot Paul who had driven us earlier, Darren didn't seem to find a need for small talk; and his eyes never left the road or his rear view mirror for a second. For all his exaggerated accent he was good and he was constantly aware of what was going on around him. I found myself able to relax a little as we drove, this time capable of concentrating less on his driving ability and more on the potential dangers that could be surrounding us; exactly the way it should be in these circumstances. For the first time that day I felt confident and comfortable in a car with Miss Fitch; and I made a note to ask if Darren could be our regular driver if at all possible.

As we drove through the darkened streets, lit only with the orange glow of the lights I thought a little bit about Miss Fitch's behaviour towards Darren. There had been not one sign of the bitchy girl that I had seen elsewhere throughout the day. As I'd followed her around the offices of Fitch Industries she'd treated a lot to people to the lash of her tongue; in fact more than a few people had probably gone home cursing her name to everyone they knew. Yet to others, like her PA, and the reception staff to name but a few, she was the nicest person you could ever meet. Now even this Darren seemed to be in her good books and she was warm and polite, if not over friendly.

I was curious, and I made a note to ask Darren about it on the way home. Once we were alone and I could get him to speak freely.

o+o+o

The street outside Miss Fitch's flat was as quiet as the grave, the excitement of the morning having retreated into the still quiet that was the lifeblood of sleepy St John's Wood. Darren pulled up outside the doorway of the small set of flats where she lived and I climbed out of the car opening the back door for her.

Carefully and taking no chances I escorted Miss Fitch up to her flat; checking room to room just in case. The flat was as quiet as the streets outside, all the windows were exactly as I had left them, and the flat itself was pitch black. My room clearance done, I turned on the lights and found Miss Fitch stood in the hallway taking off her coat.

"All secure Miss Fitch," I reported; watching her walk into the living room, kicking off her shoes as she did so.

"Thank you Naomi, would you like a coffee?"

"No thank you Miss Fitch."

"Something stronger?" she paused for a second then, "shit, I'm sorry Naomi; I forgot you said you don't drink anymore."

"It's ok Miss Fitch, I should be getting home. I'm sure you need your sleep as much as I do." I headed back towards the front door.

"Naomi?"

"Yes Miss Fitch."

She looked at me from behind the sofa she was leaning on, "I think we can dispense with all this Miss Fitch business don't you? I'm not going keep saying 'Miss Campbell' all the time so I don't see why you should call me Miss Fitch. My name is Emily Naomi, I'd appreciate it if you used it like you do with my dad and my sister."

"I'm not sure that would be appropriate Miss Fitch," I told her. "I effectively work for you at the moment, you're my package, and it wouldn't be professional for me to be on first name terms with you."

"You work for Dad as well Naomi; yet you call him by his first name after he asked you to. Do you really hate me that much?"

I'm slightly stunned, "I don't hate you Miss Fitch; I'm sorry if I gave you that impression."

"Emily," she said forcefully before continuing. "You resent looking after me though don't you Naomi? I'm not the kind of important person you're used to, am I?"

'_Oh yeah, because I'm so used to escorting the mega-rich around aren't I?'_

Still I'm slightly offended that she's think that I would treat her any differently than anyone else I've ever protected. I decided that a bit of clarity was in order.

"Miss Fitch I've looked after the safety of five star generals and two bit celebrities coming to revitalise their careers by 'visiting the troops'. I've protected Cook's girlfriend and I've looked after members of the Royal Family. Every single person has had the same level of service from me, every single one of them. Who you are doesn't affect me Miss Fitch, you could be the Queen herself and it wouldn't change how I work or how I treat you."

It wasn't strictly true though, I'd never behaved this was around anyone I'd ever protected, fucking hell I'd never behaved this way with anyone apart from my mum. Normally I'm polite but distant and I don't answer people's questions with personal stories; and I certainly don't sit on the floor of bedrooms with the packages I protect my arm around their shoulders, patting them on the knee and reassuring them with tales of my own fears.

"So you're always this cold with people then?"

I ignored her question, and walked to the front door. I'm not cold, I'm trying to protect her and protect myself that's all. Besides, if one of us is a cold hearted, aloof bitch it's almost certainly her.

"You should lock this and put the security chain across when I'm gone Miss Fitch." I said, anxious to get out of her home and back to mine.

"If you have an alarm that you can set when you go to bed that would be sensible as well. If you see or hear _anything_ suspicious call the Police first, tell them where you are and that you're in threat of your life. That's very important Miss Fitch, you have to use the words 'In Threat Of My Life' or they won't come quickly or even try to gain entry.

Once you've done that call me directly or call the office and someone will get through to me. Unless anything happens I'll be around first thing in the morning to pick you up. Do not try to go to work without me Miss Fitch and please don't do anything silly in the meantime. There may still be repercussions from you signing that deal today, so let's not take any risks with your life ok?"

Miss Fitch nodded and walked over to the door, holding onto it as I strode over to the lift, stabbing at the button to call it to the floor.

"Good night Miss Fitch, don't forget to lock that door properly" I said as the lift doors opened and I stepped in without a backwards glance.

"Naomi?" she called out as the doors were about to close. I placed my hand on the door button, preventing them from shutting for a moment and looked across the hallway at her.

"Katie was wrong you know, about your name? It does suit you. Nao and Mi; honest and beautiful. It really does suit you, both parts of it; your mother chose it well. Good night Naomi, I'll see you in the morning. Sleep well."

With that she closed the door behind her, leaving me to ponder what she meant as I heard the locks click shut.

.

.

.

**A/N -** Ooooo...

Yes I know I'm not nice leaving it there...you know what they called that when Naomi was in the army don't you? Tough (-;

See you in a couple of weeks, (maybe).


	17. In the Silence Of the Pool

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt and an impressively severe lack of talent. Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which makes me very upset). I do apparently own a potty mouth though, or my characters do (-:

**Authors Note **– Third story of the weekend and I do believe that's enough writing...I so need to do some reviewing, I've been reading and totally failing to tell people like Summer and Hypes and Hawke how bloody good their stuff is...I'm also behind on my reading so I really need to settle down and relax...this writing malarkey, it's addictive I tell you.

Speaking of which, at the bottom of this little filler there's a few plugs for some other stuff...read them if you will.

Enjoy Chapter 17 - Happy new year!

**Chapter 17 – In the Silence Of the Pool.**

With the morning came the nightmares, to once again drag me screaming from my slumbers. I don't know what caused them to start again after my time on the streets, but ever since I met JJ and got a chance at redemption they've plagued me every night; causing me to wake up screaming or at least in a cold sweat.

Only once have I been woken before the accusations haunted my dream, only once have I escaped their pointed fingers in my sleep.

Knowing that any further attempts at sleep would be fruitless I got dressed and headed to the gym for a quick workout before I had to face the rigors of another day with Miss Fitch. I like working out, I may hate running with a passion but hitting the gym is something I really enjoy. You can totally lose yourself in the exercise, quieten your mind in the burn of aching muscles straining against weights. It's a good feeling, a familiar feeling and it brought much needed clarity to my poor beleaguered head.

Or at least that's what I thought at first.

My time in the gym was occupied by my conscious mind beating up my unconscious about all the things I'd let slip out to Miss Fitch yesterday. I'd told her about an eighteen year old me in Iraq, I'd told her about fear and pain and then to cap it all off she'd learnt about me and Amy and another painful part of my life.

Yesterday had been…how could I put it, eventful?

Yeah, definitely eventful!

When I eventually headed into the pool area, just as dawn was breaking, I had put it all behind me; I decided to stop beating myself up and accept what had happened. Suddenly, armed with a new sense of perspective, the day seemed bright and full of promise. Amy had pretty much been consigned to history, Cook needed a stiff talking to about the events in the limo and despite giving so much away, I'd discovered some more things about the enigma that was Miss Emily Victoria Fitch.

I pulled on my swimsuit in the dim lights of the tiny changing area and dived into the cool depths of the swimming pool; immersing myself in the carefree silence of the water. As I swam, I thought about my drive home last night and the knowledge that it had brought me. Illuminating wouldn't be a good word to describe it, Darren hadn't exactly been happy to share information with me about Miss Fitch; but at least he had told me somethings, well he had once I'd persuaded him that it was a need to know basis and I definitely needed to know.

o+o+o

"No fucking way," he'd told me when I'd asked him to tell me about Miss Fitch. "If she wanted you to know something, she'd tell you herself."

"Darren, I need to know as much about Emily as you can tell me, you and Bonnie know her as well as anyone by the looks of things. I know you like her and I know you're trying to protect her, well I'm trying to do the same thing. I'm not looking for big secrets mate, I just want to make sure I've got all the information I need to help me do my job. You know, keep Emily safe?"

I'd deliberately used her first name with him, the age old interrogators tactic of trying to find a common ground, build a bit of rapport; allow the suspect to feel comfortable before you strike. He'd eyed me suspiciously before speaking again.

"No, sorry. I don't think so, Emily values her privacy, if she hasn't told you something then you don't need to know."

I'd shrugged my shoulders and left it alone for a while, planning on using another age old RMP tactic. After five minutes of driving in silence I asked him if he knew of anywhere en route where I could get something decent to eat and he smiled and took us off some back alleys towards the river.

"You'll like this place," he'd said happily. "The cabbies love the place because it's open all night."

"As long as I can get a cup of tea and something hot to eat I'll be happy, I've not eaten all night. I'm fucking starving," I lied, well I could eat something decent; that burger had been fucking disgusting.

"Me neither Miss Campbell, Bonnie's at her mums and I was about to grab a pizza and sit in front of the telly when Emily called. It was either that or head to the pub, and Bonnie really doesn't like me doing that during the week."

"She's nice," I'd told him, "your fiancée that is. I met her today. She's really pretty; nice ring by the way."

He had glanced across at me, eyes narrowed. "Bonnie never mentioned showing you her ring Miss Campbell."

"She didn't Darren, I'm surprised though. I'm sure if it was me I'd have been waving it under the nose of anyone that would look at it."

"Bullshit Miss Campbell, Bonnie told me all about you and your ex in the conference room today. You don't sound like the 'look at my engagement ring' type of person."

I sighed and sat back in the chair. "Ok Darren, you got me; I noticed it when Bonnie brought me and Emily coffee and lunch today. I notice things, it's my fucking job to notice things, sometimes I wish I could turn my head off and stop noticing things, like the fact that you've already eaten tonight, because there's crumbs in your lap and the car smells of pizza."

He want to say something to defend himself but I cut across him quickly, seizing the high ground.

"Don't bother Darren it's ok, told you I notice these things, other people don't. In my old line of work spotting the details make the difference between going home and going home in a body bag. Besides," I said smiling across at him, "you could hardly miss it could you? Big bloody rock like that, it must have set you back a small fortune."

"It was me grans," he said, tentatively; as if talking to me would steal his soul or something. "As if _I _could afford something like that on what Katie pays me. She left it to me when she died, told me I should give it to someone special, when I was sure; you know?"

I didn't, I'd never been sure, never thought I'd ever _be_ sure. Too many tragedies in my life, too many scars. One or two of them still fresh and bleeding; one of them still very raw.

"Well it's nice Darren, just like Bonnie." I'd told him truthfully, because she was; and he'd seemed appeased. Part one of the plan was working...'bring the suspect into your confidence'.

Part two of my little plan, 'give them something they want', was well under way when I had treated us both to coffee and chips from the well lit caravan; and we sat on the conveniently placed plastic chairs under the street lights.

"Bonnie said your ex isn't a very nice person."

"She's nice, for the right person; I just don't think that person was me." I said, deciding to share this little part of me; after all it was hardly a secret thanks to twenty four hour news.

"Not your soul mate then?" He'd joked, stuffing his face with the overly greasy fried potatoes.

"Hardly," I'd scoffed, "I can see why she likes you Darren, you're pretty straightforward aren't you."

"Well actually Bonnie tells me I'm a bit too forward...bit too much front, you know what I mean?"

"I do, and I didn't mean Bonnie. I meant Miss Fitch."

"Persistent ain't you, Miss Campbell?" He said seeing through my subterfuge.

"Naomi."

"Persistent ain't you, Naomi?"

'_Time to put part three into operation Naomi!'_

"Look Darren, I just want to know what I'm likely to get myself into tomorrow that's all, Miss Fitch is going to be attending a party and she doesn't seem to be loved by everyone in your company and I want to know who and why and I think you might be the person to tell me. Plus you're here, you appear to be Miss Fitch's friend, and if you don't I'm going to rip off your fucking balls and feed them to you ok?"

He'd stared at me as I delivered the last line, part three - 'threaten them with violence', in my usual, calm, threatening deadpan. He stared into my eyes presumably looking for a hint of weakness and, finding none, I'd watched as his adams-apple bobbed as he swallowed; and finally he began to spill the beans on my latest employer.

o+o+o

As the cool water of the swimming pool flowed around me as I pumped out my lengths, allowing me the peace and tranquillity to reflect; I thought carefully about what Darren had told me. In truth it wasn't a lot but it was enough to go on for now, another piece to the puzzle that was Emily Fitch. From the little bits of information he'd shared with me I could make a good guess as to why she was so fickle in her moods, why she was so fucking changeable.

"It's all about her family Naomi," he'd said as he munched down on my discarded carton of greasy chips. Where the fuck he put the food I didn't know, it's like he's Miss Fitch's fucking brother or something, both of them can eat like horses.

"More specifically it's all about her sister, so Bonnie tells me. I don't really know _that_ much about Emily, I only really know her through Bonnie but I do know Mrs Fitch-Brace and they're chalk and fucking cheese those two."

He was lying about not knowing Miss Fitch, I knew that from the way they behaved around one another; but I didn't challenge him on it, preferring to see where he wanted to take the conversation. In fact he'd gone on to tell me all about the twins and he told me a few things about Miss Fitch and her sister that I knew, or that I'd already worked out; and a few things that I would _never_ have guessed. Then he got to the crux of the matter, he told me a bit about the relationship between Miss Fitch, Rob and Katie.

"She's not at all interested in what she does you know? Emily that is," he'd said shovelling food into his capacious mouth with obvious glee. "Bonnie says she really hates her job, she's a bit of a pacifist at heart, reconciles what she does by arguing that if both sides have weapons perhaps there would be less fighting; you know, bullies don't pick on people that can fight back and all that. She doesn't really believe it though."

"So why does she do it then?" I'd asked, already knowing the answer but hoping for a bit more explanation than she'd given me.

"Well…"he'd said drawing out the word as he collected his thoughts. "This is what Bonnie says you understand, we don't actually know this, but it's her dad. Emily is a _real_ daddies girl; unfortunately Mr Fitch doesn't really know her."

"How do you mean?"

He'd shrugged and took a swig of his coffee.

"Mr Fitch is pretty much besotted with his other daughter Miss Campbell, Katie Fitch-Brace is the apple of his fucking eye. Sometimes Bonnie thinks he doesn't even see Emily, fuck knows she doesn't get much of the credit she deserves for the work she does."

"So he doesn't really like Miss Fitch, is that what you're saying?"

"Not at all," he'd clarified quickly, "I think Mr Fitch loves both his daughters, it's just he loves Mrs Fitch-Brace a lot more. It's like Emily doesn't really exist, that's why she's such a bitch to people."

I'd not responded to that, other than just raising an eyebrow at him in query.

"She tries too hard to be like Mrs Fitch-Brace, Emily tries to emulate how she behaves all the time; trouble is she's not very good at it and more often than not goes totally over the top and people hate her for it. Mrs Fitch-Brace is the real bitch, well she is to Emily anyway, is to anyone that she doesn't see as important or useful; but Mr Fitch thinks she's the perfect daughter and lets her get away with an awful lot of shit around here. Bonnie thinks that Emily acts like her in order to try and get her 'Daddy' to love her, basically everything she does, she does for him."

"That 'Daddy' thing Darren, any idea on that; Miss Fitch seems to be a little…well, inconsistent, in her use of it."

He'd grinned, "that's Mrs Fitch-Brace again, she'd always called Mr Fitch 'daddy' I think Emily does it to remind him and others that she's actually his daughter. Fuck knows he doesn't show it often enough." His smile had fallen from his face at his words. "let me guess," he continued seriously, "that big celebratory dinner tonight, Mrs Fitch-Brace got all the credit for whatever Emily did right, or at least she got most of the credit for the deal without actually doing anything towards it."

I couldn't answer him, except with a shrug. I hadn't been in the restaurant, and for the first time that evening I'd regretted it; wondering what I would have found out if I had been.

"Well I bet that's what happened, I mean, why was Mrs Fitch-Brace even there? She had nothing to do with that deal, but I bet if you asked Mr Fitch she was the key person involved."

He had lapsed into silence for a second, his eyes downcast his face mournful. I'd watched him carefully as he collected himself and spoke again.

"We'd better get you home Miss Campbell," Darren had said, throwing his cup and chips into a nearby bin. "It's getting late, and I've said enough already, threats or no threats."

We'd driven the rest of the way to my apartment in silence, Darren determinedly ignoring my presence. As he'd pulled up outside I got out of the car but leaned in before he could drive away.

"Darren, you're good at what you do and I like that. Who do I need to speak to in order to get you assigned as Miss Fitch's personal driver?"

"You'd have to speak to HR, and probably to Mrs Fitch-Brace; technically I work for her."

Would you be prepared to do that?"

He'd shrugged, "better than moving boxes of paper and shit jobs like that. Mrs Fitch-Brace sees me as a lackey, I'm supposed to be a trainee."

"Right I'll see if I can do that; can you pick me up in the morning? We'll need to get Miss Fitch to work safely and you probably heard what happened to my car."

He'd nodded, "I did, that was a brave thing you did Naomi; saving Emily like that. The footage they showed on the news looked really scary."

"All part of the job," I'd told him holding out my hand, "that's what I get paid for."

He'd reached out and shook it, his firm, confident, grip reassuring me that I'd made the right decision about him. "I'll be here at eight to pick you up, if that's ok with you."

"That's perfect Darren, I'll make sure I'm ready."

"Miss Campbell...Naomi," he'd called out as I stepped away and closed the door, its window rolling down as I did so. "About this party...Emily lives in Katie's shadow Naomi, so tomorrow is going to be shit for her just so you know. Rob will be flaunting Katie around his friends and Emily will be cast to one side until it suits him. We think she hates these family 'do's' with a passion, and if you're here to protect her, and I mean really protect her; you may have to protect her from herself."

With that he had driven off, leaving me standing on the driveway wondering what tomorrow would bring.

o+o+o

I hauled myself out of the pool, feeling refreshed and invigorated. My muscles had the reassuring ache that came with good exercise and my lungs were burning. I was glad that I'd given up fags and booze and started exercising again when I was still on the streets; it made this getting back into shape thing one hell of a lot easier.

One long shower and I was digging in the cupboards looking for something to eat. I'd bought a box of cereal the other day but I was fucked if I could find it in the unfamiliar kitchen; I assumed someone had moved it or chucked it in the frenzy of the night before last. Eventually I gave up, conceding that I wasn't really suited for the domestic goddess role and vowed to get Darren to find me a café on the way to Miss Fitch's.

Dressed and ready I grabbed the phone from the side and checked it, only to find an e-Mail from Cook; obviously as early a riser as I was. Quickly I opened it to see what was so important he would send me something this early.

"_Naomi,_

_Don't forget to pack a bag for tonight, you'll need a posh frock for Rob's party and a change of clothes for the Saturday, casual is fine. Rob's laid on transport to and from his place in Bath so don't panic about that. We've also got free reign to use Rob's facilities so bring anything else you need with you. He's got a gym and a great pool...do you play tennis? Effy hates it and I could do with a partner. See you at the Fitch Industries Offices at around two, don't forget I have a meeting with Rob before the party so we're all leaving early to meet him there. Remind Emily._

_Keep smiling Blondie, today is going to be a good day, as Great Grand-pappy Alouicious_ _Snr would say, "I feels it in ma bones, a goodly day indeed" _

_Cookie"_

"I very much doubt that Cook," I muttered to myself. "I very much doubt that indeed.'

Fumbling with the keys on the tiny touch screen I wrote a quick reply.

"_Cook_

_I have nothing posh to wear so they'll get what they get. I'll pack a change of clothes and my gym stuff and I'll remind Miss Fitch, though her PA will probably do that for me if she told her._

_Oh and you and I will be having words at some point about yesterday's car ride!_

_Campbell_

_PS, I don't play tennis - sorry, it looks like you'll be playing with yourself."_

I couldn't help grinning at my little double entendre and put down the phone making a start at getting organised. I quickly packed a bag with some of my meagre supplies of clothes, making a note to go shopping again at some point, and headed for the bedroom to finish getting ready. I'd barely got dressed and pulled my coat on when I was disturbed by the phone ringing.

"Close Protection, Naomi Campbell speaking." I said in that fuck awful fake phone voice I'd invented.

"Good morning Naomi."

"Hello, who is this?" I asked wondering who the hell this was, it had been an unknown number and I didn't recognise the voice.

"Naomi, It's Emily."

My brain kicked into gear and I recognised the undertones to the telephone voice she had obviously created herself. I guess being in business means you do that kind of thing; one more thing I had to get used to I suppose, at least I wasn't alone in using fake voices.

"Good Morning Miss Fitch, is there anything wrong?"

I heard a slight hesitation in her voice and prepared for the worst, wondering how fast I could get to St John's Wood if I had to organise a taxi.

"Er, actually there's nothing wrong Naomi; and I thought I asked you to call me Emily."

"I thought we sorted this out Miss Fitch."

"_Emily_! Look Naomi if you're going to be keeping me safe there's no harm in being friendly is there?"

"Miss Fitch, I don't think understand this do you? I'm your CPO, we shouldn't be on first name terms; I explained this yesterday."

"You're my what?"

"CPO Miss Fitch, Close Protection Officer; that's what I am, at least that's what I am until Saturday. Anyway, how can I help you Miss Fitch, you must have called for a reason."

"Yes Naomi, there's been a change of plans. Darren is on his way to yours but I'm not going into the office this morning."

"Miss Fitch," I sighed assuming, once again, the worst; "please tell me that you're not in the car with Darren already."

"No! Well, I did think about it," she admitted, "but then I remembered that you'd asked me to; so no. For your peace of mind I'm still tucked up at home safe and warm, but Darren will be at yours pretty soon. Are you ready? I know it's early but I need to get a head start on today as I'm losing the afternoon to this flaming party."

"I'm ready to go Miss Fitch, I've been up since five so it's not an issue. Darren and I will be at yours before nine, traffic allowing. Do not come down to the car, I will come up to your flat to get you."

"Yes Miss Campbell," she sang out like a school kid to her teacher and with what sounded suspiciously like a smothered laugh, "I'll see you in a bit, thanks Naomi."

I put the phone on the counter and went back to stuffing things into my bag. My swimsuit was still faintly damp, despite me throwing it the spinner to wring it out and airing it next to a radiator, and I was forced to wrap it up in a towel and throw it in, hoping that a good airing when we got to our destination would sort it out; praying that it wouldn't cause the rest of my clothes to smell. _'That would look good wouldn't _it' I thought as I packed my clothes and make-up away,_ 'me stinking up Fitch fucking Manor like a tramp.'_

It was as I zipped my small bag closed that the flat's main phone rang. It shocked me for a second because it had never rung in my presence before; in fact I had been out of contact with the real world for so long, with Afghanistan and then the hospitals and the rehab unit that I almost didn't cotton on to what the noise was.

It was strangely disconcerting, that odd feeling of disconnection that it gave me. Like reality had taken a little wander to one side and left me in some strange parallel dimension; a different world with different noises that I had no understanding of. The only way I could describe it was that feeling you get when you come home from holiday and everything seems, well, wrong; or you haven't driven for a few weeks and you suddenly get back into a car. Only this time it was amplified a hundred fold. It was really weird, because I realised I'd been listening to phones ring most of yesterday at Fitch Industries, and I didn't seem to have a problem with my mobile ringing.

I guess there's always something that you notice that freaks you out, despite it's mundanity; something that shocks your system.

I stared at the receiver for what felt like hours, my arms feeling like they were fashioned from lead, before I managed to reach out and pick it up. It was Guy, one of the security guards I'd spoken to when Miss Fitch was here and he had something to tell me.

"You asked us to report anything suspicious Miss Campbell, well there's a car parked outside with a suspicious looking man inside. Do you want me to call the Old Bill?"

"What type of car is it?" I asked, suddenly on guard.

"It's a silver Mercedes, big one as well."

I let out a sigh of relief, "This suspicious looking bloke, has he got dark hair and is a little overweight."

"Can't see Miss Campbell, he's parked just on the edge of our cameras; that's what made us think to call you, you know, after we saw the state of your car."

"Come on Guy, the only reason you remembered my name is because of my international status as a TV heroine," I joked.

"Well, that didn't go unnoticed either Miss Campbell, I hope they pay you well; they don't pay me enough to get off my arse and go and look at that car; d'you know what I mean?"

"I get you Guy, don't worry I think I know who it is, but I'm coming down to check right now. Could you make a note as well Guy, I'm not going to be at home this evening so if there's anything going on in the flat, you might want to call the police or something, just in case."

"Don't worry Miss Campbell, we'll do just that. Have a good day now."

"Yeah, you too Guy, stay safe."

I headed downstairs with my bag thrown over my shoulder and walked up to the familiar car. Casually I slapped it on it's roof scaring the shit out of the driver inside.

"Got to pay better attention Darren or I'll change my mind about saving you from Katiekins" I scolded as I opened the door.

"Morning to you as well," he muttered grumpily as I threw my bag on the back seat and strapped myself in.

"Good morning; and I'm serious Darren, doors locked when you're waiting, only open them when you see me, or Miss Fitch coming, ok? That's the new rule."

"Fine, where to? Emily's?"

"Yeah, can we stop somewhere to grab breakfast though, I've got nothing in."

o+o+o

Breakfast consisted of a hurried McSomething-or-other from a drive through in Hammersmith. It was becoming a habit, this eating shite food lark; it had started on the streets because it was the only thing I could get, but there really wasn't an excuse for it now. I made a quiet note to go shopping properly as soon as I could and get some much needed provisions for the flat; ideally something healthy, something I could eat without wanting to vomit.

I also made a note that getting a flat of my own was something else I needed to sort out pretty quickly; there was no point leaving it until the last minute, though even with my massively increased salary I would probably need to look outside of London and commute as needed. It was all so new and just a little bit scary, I had been pretty much cushioned in the Army, food, board everything was there if you wanted it. It had left me pretty much isolated from the issues of the 'real' world.

I decided there and then that I needed a long chat with JJ, find out about work, find out about where I was supposed to be based find out about everything really.

It's not like I'd had chance over the last couple of days!

o+o+o

The collection of Miss Fitch went without any problems, well apart from her leaving me sat in her living room whilst so sorted out her e-mails. Why she couldn't do that in the office escaped me, I was a little irked, she'd get me here earlier than planed and it was now late and we hadn't moved.

With a flourish she slammed the lid on her laptop, grabbed her BlackBerry and keys from the table and stood up.

"So Naomi, are you ready for another day of madness with the Fitch family?"

I nodded, well I couldn't exactly say, _"not really"_ now could I?

"Right," she replied, "there's a change of plan today, as I mentioned I'm not going into the office this morning. I need to get some stuff for this bloody party and a little bird told me that you haven't got anything to wear either; so we're going shopping. I could do with a morning off, it's been a hell of a week, with one thing and another."

I stopped myself from scowling at the thought of shopping. It was bad enough going when _I_ wanted to buy something, I couldn't imagine how mind numbing it would be to traipse around shop after shop for no reason following Miss Fitch.

Well actually I could, thanks to Effy Stonem and James Cook.

She must have seen something in my look, despite doing my best to hide it; "Oh don't be like that Naomi," she said scolding me with a smile on her face, "it'll be fun."

"Whatever you say, Miss Fitch," I agreed, without really agreeing. "One thing though, I don't need anything for the party, I'll be working remember."

"Well yes, but you'll need something to wear."

"Obviously Miss Fitch, but I have something with me. A suit will be fine for the evening, I do not need, as Cook put it, 'a posh frock'."

"Not good enough Naomi," she countered, "You'll have to blend in if you're going to remain inconspicuous, you'll have to look like everyone else."

I frowned at her, "Why would I want to look inconspicuous? I'm there to do a job, I'm one of the staff Miss Fitch. I can't imagine the waiters or the chefs will be wearing fancy clothes. I'll be covering the building and making sure those half wits that guard your place are on their toes for a change."

"But James called and said you'll need some advice if you were going to blend in..."

"I'll discuss the security arrangements with Mr Cook when I see him this afternoon, "I interrupted carefully; "however he is there as your guest, and I'm there because your father asked me to continue looking out for your safety; and that's what I'm going to do Miss Fitch. I'm not there to enjoy myself."

She stared at me, her bravado faltering for a second, before she blinked and smiled again, the look not reaching her annoyed looking eyes.

"Well _I_ need to go shopping, and if you're not going to enjoy yourself that's your business, come on Naomi, let's go."

Just a hint of the old Miss Fitch, somewhere inside, fake or not, the bitch is still active; and the bitch doesn't like being refused.

"Ready when you are Miss Fitch." I said neutrally.

She stopped in the hallway, coat in hand and looked at me with what looked like a hint of disappointment on her face. I steeled myself and stepped towards her.

"Excuse me," I said, gesturing towards the door.

She stepped back and struggled with her jacket, I couldn't help but grab the shoulders and hold her coat for her as she juggled, bag and phone and everything else.

"Thanks," she said simply as she straightened herself up and began shoving things in pockets, her bag firmly held between her knee's.

"That's ok Miss Fitch, Amy always had trouble with coats as well."

"I think she had trouble with a lot of things," she muttered as she turned to ," like fucking manners for a start."

She snapped her head up at me as she turned around, as if not realising I was standing so close to her.

"Shit, fuck...I didn't mean."

"It's ok Miss Fitch, I understand and you're right, she didn't have many manners yesterday. She's not a bad person though."

"You were together a long time?" she asked before looking at the floor as if embarrassed. Strange, another side to Miss Fitch I've not seen before. I decided to humour her, give her a victory after I wouldn't back down over Cook's stupid idea about a dress. Me and Amy was a safe subject, she wouldn't be the first person to tiptoe around asking what they really wanted to ask.

Besides, Amy had more than aired our dirty washing in public yesterday. She's washed it, aired it and thrown it on the floor for me to trample on with my boots on.

"Long enough in years, not much in real time. I got shipped around a lot, made it hard for us to be together, we tried, but Amy hated everything about the Army, especially when I was on tour."

"Is that what broke you two up?"

I shrugged, "kind of, more me than her though if I'm honest. It's never good when you grow to resent someone because of how they are. Still, that's all in the past."

I opened her door and took a quick glance into the hallway before gesturing for her to follow me.

"You said you never loved her yesterday Naomi," she asked as she stood in the hallway, not moving; "is that true, or was it just a way to get rid of her? It's just...you told me that you'd lost the only person you ever loved and I wondered if that was Amy."

"It was the truth Miss Fitch," I said, sighing and closing the door to just in case. "I don't think I ever really loved Amy, more or less everything I told her was the honest truth. She wasn't the person I lost, well not the one that I loved anyway. Amy was just Amy, she wasn't ever anything special. She was somewhere to put my boots and someone to turn to when I got off tour, everything you heard was pretty much how it was."

She looked at me, her brown eyes filled with a hint of shock at my admission, her mouth slightly open. I didn't really care; so what if I'm a bitch, so what if I'm some kind of callous bastard that uses people for her own advantage? So what if I didn't really give a shit about Amy and her stuck up friends? Why does that make me any different from the rest of the fucking population?

So why do I care that she seems horrified that I'm that kind of person?

"Life's complicated Miss Fitch, Amy and me, well; we were good together for a while and I was fond of her, but she grew to hate my job and I grew to hate her clinginess. We're just different people wanting different things, that's all.

"So you really do hate her now?"

"A little," I admitted, "I think I resent her more than hate her, especially after today. She would have got the messages from the Army when I was hurt; she chose to ignore them and forget about me like she told me she would. I thought that was fair enough, still do in fact; but if she wanted me back in her life she could have done it then, not leave it until your sister slaps me all over the television."

"and the papers," Miss Fitch replied, picking up a copy of the Independent from a table and holding front of me. I looked down to see my younger face looking back at me.

"Fucks sake."

"It's not that bad," she told me, "at least it's a good picture, I've never taken a good picture in my life."

It's not true, I want to tell her it's not true; want to tell her that she looks stunning on the picture on her file, but I can't. It's not appropriate and it's not me, so I just stared down at the picture. I wish I could say it was of a happier time, but it isn't. It was a time when I think I'd rather have been dead.

"Right, said Miss Fitch, elbowing me out of my miserable thoughts. "I've had a shit week and I've got a shit weekend coming starting this afternoon so I need something to take my mind off things and by the sounds of things so do you. Come on Naomi, let's go shopping."

_'fucks sake.'_

.

.

.

**A/N -** Shopping eh, should be eventful (-:

Right I'm going to be a shameless self publicist here and plug a couple of other things I've done. One complete story for Hallowe'en in the Naomily fan bit here, (Campfire Tales, get it whilst the witching hour is still upon us) and over on my blog, (link on my profile) there's a story called "The Basement" that I wrote for LadyHawk1709 that she encouraged me to publish somewhere. I don't think it's the sort of thing that's suitable for , if you choose to read it you might find it a bit nasty.

I think it's silly and Hawke thinks it's funny...but then I like rooftops and Hawke is just quirky so be warned, but I guess it's in a Hallowe'en spirit...the movie that is (-:.

Anyway I shall cease plugging my own stuff and shut up now, I've got a heavy week at work next week, but I'll try and get something out.


	18. Haircuts and Helicopters

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt and an impressively severe lack of talent. Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which makes me very upset). I do apparently own a potty mouth though, or my characters do (-:

**Authors Note **– Right, trying to get back onto my midweek schedule for this story. So many nice things said, honestly I can't believe people are still reading this after seventeen, now eighteen chapters...I'm just having fun here people, I'm simply messing about!

Anyway, thanks to everyone for the nice words..._Hypes_, I am planning to read _and_ review '99 Problems', I'm so behind with everything...bloody campfires! _Hawke_, you're not a psycho you're just quirky...like Bjork (-;

Oh and finally, hello and thanks to _absolutares_ who's just gone on a very long and very flattering review spree on this silly little story. Glad you like it..I will reply once I get this finished, (too much to write at the moment) and I can't open that page mate, I think it was a little too private (-:

Right, Chapter 18 is a good one (I hope) because I think you deserve it...no they _aren't_ having sex in it if that's what you're hoping for...tch some people!

**Chapter 18 – Haircuts and Helicopters**

I hate shopping, have I perhaps mentioned that? Well it's true, what's probably worse than shopping is walking _behind_ someone that is shopping, trying to be unobtrusive.

What's even more difficult than that, is trying to walk behind someone, trying to be unobtrusive when that person insists on discussing every fucking potential purchase with you; as if you're some kind of personal shopper.

"What do you think to these?" Miss Fitch asked me, holding up a pair of purple high heels. "I kind of like them, but I just get the feeling that they'd make me look like a teenager that's trying too hard!"

I shrugged in reply. It's five past ten, I've been awake for just over five hours and it feel like I've been in every flaming shop from the Kings Road to Carnaby Street. I haven't really, Miss Fitch seems to be very organised when it comes to shopping, but it certainly feels that way.

"Naomi could you be a _little_ bit more enthusiastic please?"

I ignored her, more interested in keeping a more than casual eye on a pair of young men who were glancing at Miss Fitch in a slightly less than casual manner as we walked around the store. It's the third time I've seen them in the last two floors and they don't seem particularly interested in women's shoes and bridal wear. Deciding that enough was enough I stared over at them, making it very obvious what I was doing; my eyes following them around the store as they flitted in and out of displays.

Eventually they noticed me glaring at them and they spoke quickly to each other, laughed and walked away.

"Naomi?"

"Sorry?" I asked absently watching them as they walked down the stairs to the lower floor and out of sight.

"Have you been listening to anything I've been saying to you?"

"If it was something to do with purple shoes Miss Fitch then no, not really. I was slightly more interested in doing my job."

"God you're impossible. Remind me _why_ I brought you shopping, you haven't been interested in anything since we got here."

"Erm, I'm sorry to point this out but you haven't brought me shopping Miss Fitch, I'm here because I'm supposed to be watching your back remember?"

"Yeah, well while you're here you can help me shop, you can multi-task can't you Naomi?"

"Well I can chew gum and shoot people at the same time if that's what you mean?" I said flippantly hoping she'd take the hint.

"No, not really," Miss Fitch replied, taking the hint. "I just thought another woman's opinion might help, that's all."

"I'm not a woman Miss Fitch, I'm a squaddie, a bootneck if you like. I'm not really qualified to help you with shoes and dresses and the like. Perhaps you should have invited your sister."

Her face dropped at my barbed comment and I felt a little guilty; she had, after all, simply been making an effort to be nice. She had been making an effort to be nice ever since I made a fool of myself in their offices yesterday and I'd been pushing her away. But she's just a package, that's all she can be. I'm not her shopping buddy, I'm not her bestest mate in all the world; it's like I told her, I'm her CPO and that's all I can be.

"I think you're a lot more than a 'squaddie' Naomi, you do yourself an injustice. You're the sort of person that risks her life for a total stranger and then takes the time to offer them a bit of comfort when they're terrified; even though they've been nothing but a cow to you. I can see through you Naomi, you're actually a very nice person."

"I risk my life because that's my job Miss Fitch, that's what I get paid to do."

I held back a sigh as I explained this once again; I don't know why she can't accept this basic tenet of what I do. I have no idea why she's suddenly all intent on making me something I'm not.

"Believe me," I continued, "if I wasn't getting paid to look after you then I'd probably be somewhere else looking after someone else; that's just how it is."

"Or you'd be back on the streets," she snapped angrily.

"Yes," I agreed sadly, trying to hold onto a modicum of dignity despite that particular blow landing far below the belt.

"There's always that option as well Miss Fitch; though I think I'd do a lot more to avoid that next time around. For the record, I was doing my best to get myself sorted _before_ I met the LT Miss Fitch; I was off the booze, I'd quit smoking and I'd started to get myself back into shape. I made it out the other side last time, so this time I think it'll be different. I'm not the same person anymore."

You see, this is _exactly_ what happens when you open yourself up to people; you give a bit of yourself, however unintentionally, to another person and eventually they'll use it to hurt you. Miss Fitch had done it, Amy did it all the time and everyone I'd ever known apart from my mum had done it as well; right back to my schooldays. Even my best friend Whitey had tried to use my sexuality against me after he'd found out, it'd only taken the combination of a bruised fist and a broken nose to correct that mistake.

People are wankers. Thank you, Miss Fitch, for reminding me of that little fact.

At least her little shot at my ego had made me sure of one thing, I'm _not_ going back onto the streets. I'm not the lost and pathetic person who left the army with no hope and no ideas; I'm stronger than that now, I know I am.

She looked chastened at my comment, as if she realised that she had taken nothing more than a cheap shot. She spent a few seconds looking at her feet before finally she looked up at me.

"Naomi I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that; it was just..."

"It's ok Miss Fitch, it really doesn't matter." I interrupted to save her and save myself from the situation. It does though, it hurts.

_'Why does it fucking hurt? I don't do hurt, not any more. Get out of my head Fitch! I don't fucking need this!'_

o+o+o

Three shops later and we were sat on the comfortable sofa of a Starbucks, drinking the overpriced coffee and resting our feet. It's been nearly two hours of constant shopping and Miss Fitch has bought precisely nothing, not even a pair of shoes.

'_Fucking typical.'_

Miss Fitch had, however, insisted on treating me to a coffee and an almost stale muffin, telling me that I:

"have to take a break sometime."

Well I don't, I don't take breaks and I don't lose focus, when I do that people die; it's that simple. There was a plus point to the last hour of traipsing around shop after shop, whatever ceasefire were operating under seems to be holding; she has only asked my opinion on a couple of items and that's fine by me. She also hasn't told me how to do my job and seems content to just let me do it; which again, is fine with me.

I've decided that as long as our truce is holding I can try to be nice; as long as she remembers the boundaries then I can be polite, friendly even. It makes the job a lot easier than when I was fighting with the bitch from Fitch Manor. Perhaps we might even be finding a happy medium between her wanting to kill me, and wanting me to be her bezzie.

Somewhere between those two I can operate, somewhere in the middle I can do my job properly.

"How's the coffee?" Her voice cut through me like a bayonet, dragging my thoughts back to the job at hand.

"It's ok, I've had better, just another chain trying to make out they're doing something special I guess." I shrugged, "it's only coffee at the end of the day; some ground up beans and some hot water."

"You really are a cynic sometimes Naomi Campbell, you know that?"

She sounded so much like my mother I couldn't help but snort at that, the hint of laughter creeping past my usually stoic appearance.

"Well fuck me, so you _can_ smile."

I frowned at her comment only to see amusement in her eyes. "No don't stop Naomi it almost suits you; stops you looking so serious all the time."

"I have a serious job Miss Fitch."

"I know you do Naomi, but it doesn't mean you can't relax every now and again; this isn't Afghanistan, it's London, there aren't people waiting around every corner trying to kill you."

_'No Miss Fitch, they only do that on the M4 in Wiltshire don't they? Stupid girl, why won't you learn?'_

"Miss Fitch can I ask you a question?" she nodded taking a sip of her latte. "Why do you feel you have to be nice to me? I mean, I don't want to overstep the mark here, but I'm just another employee and you're not usually nice to your employee's. You keep trying to engage me in conversation and be all nicey-nicey to me; yet it wasn't forty eight hours ago you practically spat in my face and told me to fuck off."

She stared across at me, bravely holding my eye contact, those brown eyes hardening to granite again before, almost impossibly, softening before me.

"I'm being nice Naomi because I think you're worth it. I didn't think that before and you pulled me up on it. You were right, I assumed you were going to be like all the other assholes daddy's tried to get to protect me. Just another meathead squaddie, another idiot with a gun; but you proved me wrong didn't you? I treated you like shit and you never did anything but treat me with respect. I _did_ do everything but spit in your face and yet you sat with me while I fell apart and made sure I was ok.

I'm an unqualified bitch Naomi, you've probably spotted that; and there are very few people in my life I trust and respect, but like it or not you're now one of them. You have had my trust since you took me back to yours after that car chase, you have had my respect since you comforted me in my bedroom when Katie was so spectacularly stupid."

She took another sip of her latte as I sat there in stunned silence, the foamed milk from my drink still stuck to my lip in a sticky white moustache.

"I'm trying to be nice, Naomi, because I _want_ to be nice, I actually kind of like you; I didn't think I would but I do. You're considerate, loyal and you've got character and you're not afraid to stand up to people, including me and my family. I respect that, ok?"

"Right," I heard my voice say as she stopped and took another sip of her drink. "Well that's certainly sorted that out then."

I certainly wasn't expecting that from her and it's pretty much thrown me off balance; I don't _like_ being thrown off balance, it's dangerous and I fought to keep my professionalism intact.

"So why don't _you_ want me to be nice Naomi? Why are you trying to make things difficult all of a sudden?"

Her question surprised me more than a little, I wasn't aware I had been making things difficult. She seriously couldn't be accusing me of that because I won't use her first name could she? That would be ridiculous. I looked across at those huge, brown eyes and retreated back into defensive fire line number one.

"There have to be boundaries Miss Fitch," I told her carefully, saying out loud what I had thought before. "If I'm to do my job there has to be an understanding. I'm not your friend, I'm your employee; I'm just another Bonnie, or Darren or Paul from the driving pool."

"You're definitely not like Paul," she said pulling a face, "creepy little tosser. I'm sure they only send him to drive for me because they know I hate him. I'm not exactly well loved in the driving pool."

"Or in Accounts," I responded, regretting my joke as soon as it had left my lips. The banter somehow seeming natural; something I'd definitely have to stop.

"No," she agreed with a frown, "they fucking hate me as well; I can't stand wankers and that's what most of those guys are. They bug me, they deserve all they get."

We sat in silence for a few minutes, sipping at our drinks and watching the world go by. Yet after only a few seconds I spotted Miss Fitch's eyes fixed on one spot; she looked like a rabbit in headlights and my senses went into overdrive. Casually I shifted on the sofa until I could move my head to see what she was looking at.

The street outside was busy, but not unusually so, the usual array of early season tourists, people in suits, mothers with children, and here and there small groups of kids; boys and girls presumably bunking off school like I had done at their age, anxious for a bit of peace and quiet from the relentless cat calls.

Other than that I saw nothing resembling danger, nothing at all.

"Problem Miss Fitch?" I asked quietly, still trying to ascertain what she was looking at. She shook her head slowly, her eyes fixed on a small boutique across the pedestrianised street

"Seen something?"

"Sort of," she replied not taking her eyes off the doorway. "There," she announced and I whipped my head around to look. I didn't see anything but a tall woman laden down with bags. She was in her late forty's and really wasn't much to look at. I wondered why Miss Fitch was staring at her.

"Someone you know?"

"No not at all," she replied," it's just…."

She tailed off sadly, a hint of regret in her voice. For some reason I couldn't stop myself from asking why.

"Just what Miss Fitch?"

"Well, just look at her, I'd love to have hair like that."

I looked back at the woman, to be honest I don't see anything special about her hair, well apart from the fact that it's bright purple. To be perfectly honest I'm not convinced it suits her. Her hair is too long for starters to carry that colour, it's just a little too much.

"You want purple hair?" I asked trying to keep the disbelief out of my voice. She's got lovely hair actually, a dark brown bordering on black depending on the light. It's as straight a die and it's so well looked after it positively glows.

Considering what she's been through over the last couple of days I'm amazed it looks that good.

"Not purple exactly, I don't think that would suit me, but I've always wanted to do something dramatic with my hair the way she has, it looks fucking awesome."

"But you've got lovely hair Miss Fitch," the words slipped out before I realised what I was saying, "why ruin it."

"Thanks Naomi," she replied, not catching my eye and looking down at the table, her right hand absently running through those long shiny cascades. "I think you're hair is great, it really suits you. I was surprised to see it's not real, you know on your photograph."

She suddenly blushed and stared intently at her cup, "sorry," she said confusing me; "I just thought, blonde might be your real colour and you'd dyed it when you were in the army."

"No you're right Miss Fitch I'm not a natural blonde, why would you think I'd dye my hair dark in the army?"

"Well some people don't take blondes very seriously do they, I thought you might have dyed it because of what you did."

"Jesus, if I'd have been bothered about that I'd have had the camp barber give me a number one all over. Definitely thought about it a few times, believe me my hair didn't look very nice after spending days stuck under a helmet in the fucking desert."

She eyed me carefully, "What was it like out there Naomi, in the desert?"

"Hot, sometimes cold," I answered vaguely.

"That's not what I meant."

"I know."

I know I'm being evasive but there are some things you just don't talk about over a coffee in a Starbucks in Central London, there are some things you just don't talk about at all, not to a civvy anyway. Civvies just don't understand; and despite how nice she's being to me I've no doubt if Miss Fitch heard of some of the things I'd done in Iraq and Afghanistan, I'd be back to being the baby eating monster faster than you could say boom!

I'm not a monster, just some days I feel like one. They say the first victim of war is innocence, I believe the second victim of war is the warriors heart. You lose the ability to care after you've lost someone close to you, you ball yourself up and hide yourself away so you can cope with the loss.

Civvies don't understand that, lots of people don't understand that; the truth is they don't want to.

"So why don't you do it then?" I asked trying to change the subject.

"What?" she replied her eyes confused.

"Dye your hair purple or pink or something."

"Because people wouldn't take me seriously would they Naomi; can you imagine what our clients would think if I turned up to a meeting with bright orange hair?"

I got the feeling that she wasn't just talking about their clients here, but I didn't let on. I decided to see how far she wanted to go, to take Darren's advice and save her from herself and her own insecurities.

"I think they'd see past the hair colour Miss Fitch, see the talent and the passion underneath. Perhaps they'd see past their _idea_ of who you are and see a bit of the _real_ you; you know? the one that wants to be an individual."

"You think that?"

"No Miss Fitch," I said, trying to be deadpan but not helping matters by having the sides of my lips twitching as I attempted it, "I said it because I think it would be hilarious for you to dye your hair bright purple and then sit back as your dad and your sister laughed at you."

She glared at me for a second before chuckling and getting up.

"Cheeky cow, for that I'm not going to get you another muffin."

"That's ok Miss Fitch," I said gesturing at my half eaten cake, "I didn't enjoy that one I'm afraid."

"Really Naomi are you sure?" She said with a slight lisp that I assumed was either an affectation or a impression of her sister. "I thought you liked eating muffin."

I almost spat my coffee over the table as I held back a snort of laughter, Miss Fitch looked at me with a hint of relief in her eyes as if she thought I'd be offended by her little joke.

"Nothing wrong with muffin Miss Fitch, I just don't enjoy stale ones, you know what I mean."

"Ugh, thanks for that image Naomi," she said pulling a face, her eyes twinkling making any face she pulled look instantly beautiful.

"My pleasure Miss Fitch, you should ask for your money back you know. It was pretty stale."

"Can't be arsed, it's only money," she said casually; reminding me without even trying of the gulf that lay between us. "Want another cappuccino?"

"If you're offering Miss Fitch, though I should really get these it's my round."

"Nonsense Naomi," she said heading for the counter, "it's my treat."

I had a few moments to myself as she ordered the drinks. If it was anyone else, I'd have called what had just happened flirting; as it was I've no idea what the hell it was. I eventually decided it was a bit of friendly banter, the kind of harmless flirting that friends do. She told me she trusts me, I've been let into that little inner circle of people she doesn't feel she has to be Katie Fitch-Brace in front of. Part of me feels privileged, part of me is terrified.

_You're going to have to face this sometime Campbell, you like her and you're scared that you might let that slip if you get too close.'_

"Did you mean what you said before?" I was asked as a cup appeared in front of me.

"What about stale muffins, I said, poking at the offending foodstuff with a finger, "absolutely; it was pretty revolting actually and I've eaten out of rat-packs. Even cold tins of Irish Stew is tastier than that thing."

"No, about dyeing my hair to express my individuality."

I sat back on the sofa, balancing the oversized cup she'd brought me on the leather arm. "No Miss Fitch that's not what I meant. You don't express your individuality by dying you hair, dying your hair expresses your individuality."

She looked at me as if I was talking Croatian and thinking back, that's entirely possible.

"What I'm trying to say is that the fact that you want to dye your hair is enough, that should be the reason you want to dye your hair. Some people dye their hair because they think it will mark them as an individual, but that's not what it's about.

It's like tattoo's, some people get them because they want to show them off, to say look at me...I'm different. Other people get them because they want to get them because it's just them, and they've got no need to shout to the world about them. They're the real individuals.

If you want to do something you should do it because you _want_ to do it and for no other reason; otherwise you're just running with the crowd. If you want to dye your hair then you should do so, for no other reason that it would make you feel good, that it would help you express who you really are. Only then would people see you the way you want them to see you. Does that make sense Miss Fitch, because I sure as hell ain't making sense to me?"

She smirked at my comment, sitting back and staring at me until I felt distinctly uncomfortable.

"I think so Naomi, I think I get it, do you think I'm really hiding away?"

I'm pretty much cornered now, fought myself back to my very last defensive line and I've nowhere left to go.

"Miss Fitch, you're a bright, smart woman. You're also pretty brave and, as I've already said, I'm positive you're a fighter. I'm pretty much convinced, even after only a few days in your company, that you could do anything you wanted to do if you put your mind to it. I'm pretty much convinced you could be anyone you wanted to be as well. But I think you'd prefer to be you."

"Do you mean that?" she asked as I took a deep sip of the warm foam and scaldingly hot coffee underneath.

"Yeah I mean it Miss Fitch, you dealt with gun toting terrorists, survived a car chase and faced down your sister without blinking. I'm sure you can do anything."

It's a lie, but it's a good lie. I do think she could do anything, she just needs to believe in herself. The rest, well, I guess I have no shame.

Miss Fitch sat back for a while, sipping her drink and saying nothing. I took the opportunity to strengthen my defensive lines; digging a few more slit trenches and setting up the barbed wire, minefields and machine gun nests. I knew this would be a bad idea, I knew she'd sneak in under the wire; I pulled the tatters of my professional distancing towards me and attempted to patch them up.

"I think I want to do it then," she said suddenly downing her drink, "fuck it, like you said Naomi, you're a long time dead. Why not, why the fuck not! I've no idea how the fuck to do it, but I want to dye my hair for this fucking party."

I thought about it for a second before responding.

"Miss Fitch, I know the perfect man."

o+o+o

Two phone calls and half an hour later and I'm back where it all began for me, the private little spa where Lara had disinfected my life. We walked in through the glass doors and I strode up to the desk.

"Miss Emily Fitch to see Franco, she has an appointment."

The receptionist smiled and gestured for us to go through to his little salon. I walked into the place of my own personal transformation and smiled as I saw him fussing over another overdressed doll. Finally he finished, kissed his goodbyes to his latest creation and turned to me.

"Miss Campbell," he cried in that accent that was, to my ears, bloody ridiculous; "I saw you on the television the other day, what _have_ you done to my hair. I'm so glad you have returned to me so I can sort out the disgrace that you have made of my creation."

"Nice to see you too Franco, and there's nothing wrong with my hair that a pair of clippers and a razor wouldn't fix. We're not here for me, we're here for my employer, Miss Emily Fitch."

He looked across at Miss Fitch who had sat on one of the chairs and was looking into one of the high gloss fashion magazines that seem to plague these places.

"Surely you are joking Miss Campbell, there is nothing I can do to Miss Fitch's hair, nothing that would be little more than a travesty for such beautiful hair."

"It's ok Frank you can drop the act around us, there's no-one else here, Miss Fitch tell Frank here what you want."

"Naomi you're too cruel for words you know? I've seen you twice now and each time you want to burst my little fabrication."

"Well you can be Franco if you want, but Frank from Birkenhead gave me his best work, and I'm sure my employer would appreciate the genius."

"Well," he said suddenly smiling, "when you put it like that Naomi, what can I say? What can I do for you Miss Fitch?"

"Emily," she said throwing the magazine down on the table and shaking his hand, "I've always wanted to dye my hair Frank, I want something striking but not over the top, something that would suit me, but make me stand out a little."

"Miss Fitch saw a woman with purple hair today Frank, that's what started this off."

He shook his head vigorously, "purple would be a bad colour for you Emily, trust me with hair like yours it wouldn't suit it. I'd say blonde is out as well, it wouldn't work with your eyes." He gestured for Miss Fitch to sit in his chair and he began preening her hair whilst staring at it in the mirror, lifting strands up into the light and letting them fall.

"Naomi this may take a while and will require my full attention so I don't ruin this lovely hair, why don't you go and get a drink or a manicure or something...oh and you and I will be talking about conditioner before you leave here today."

I grinned at him and left the room, I had no fears about Miss Fitch's safety here, this place was so exclusive it was untrue.

As I sat around I called Cook and told him where I was and what I was doing and what time I thought we'd be meeting up. I mentioned that Miss Fitch still had some shopping to do but that we shouldn't be late. He seemed happy enough with the situation, telling me that he was picking Effy up on the way to Fitch Industries and that she was:

"Habitually bloody late."

Following the conversation I popped out to reception to pay for Miss Fitch's treatment. I almost blanched when I saw how much it was going to cost for her consultation with 'Franco', but I shoved the company credit card into the machine and punched in the four numbers. If Close Protection wouldn't pick up the bill then I would; keep Miss Fitch happy seemed to be a good way of making my job easier and it might just help Cook get the contract for work with Rob.

Finally I walked back into the salon to see Miss Fitch on the phone to someone, presumably Bonnie from what I heard of her discussion as I walked in. I was dumbstruck because she now sported the brightest red hair I think I have ever seen. I took a seat at the back of the salon and waited for her to finish her call; winking at Frank as I did so..

"Yea Bonnie that's the one, can you have someone deliver it to the office...Yes I'll need it in my overnight stuff for the party...Fabulous, thanks hun I appreciate it, see you later."

She turned to look at me as I stood in the doorway and fluffed her hair at me. It looked fabulous, Franco had not only dyed it, but he'd done something to make it look thicker, more 'full of body' as the adverts would put it; and it had a faintly curled look. I have no idea if that masterpiece would survive a trip to Bath or not, but I was glad I'd seen it in all its glory.

In fact the only thing that made it look better was the beaming smile on Miss Fitch's face; for the first time since I met her she looked totally content and happy. Though to be fair to her we had spent most of the last two days in a world of pain.

"What do you think?"

"I think Franco has surpassed himself again," I replied as I noticed another customer walking towards the door. "It looks stunning, though I knew he could do it." I finished modestly, "he is the best you know."

"Well I'm convinced," she said getting up from the chair and giving the old faker a hug. "I don't think I could go anywhere else now, and I'll be sure to tell Katie about this place as well."

"Any friend of Miss Campbell's is a friend of mine and always welcome," Frank said, his public mask firmly back in place. "Now Miss Campbell we need to talk about conditioner, your hair looks dreadful and only after three days."

"I'm sorry Franco, we really don't have time. Next time I promise, you can tell me off next time ok?"

He nodded and waved us out, next time indeed; even on my new salary I'd be pushed to afford his rates. No wonder it took a phone call from Lara to get us in, I doubt Miss Fitch would have a problem again though; and they would probably love to see Katie in there, she's exactly their type.

As we climbed into our respective seats in the car, Darren whistled as he looked at Miss Fitch in the rear view mirror.

"Nice hair Emily, that's stunning that is."

"That's what Naomi said Darren, thank you, I'm rather pleased with it myself."

"Yeah it looks great Emily, really suits you. So where are we off to next ladies? More shopping?"

"Don't think so Darren," she said looking at her watch, "we're going to have to meet up with James and his date and head over to the heliport if we're going to make it home before the party."

_'Heliport, no-one mentioned a fucking heliport!'_

o+o+o

We met up with Cook and Effy at the office, I have to say they make a good couple; and Effy, thankfully, had dropped the brainless bimbo act and was getting along famously with Miss Fitch.

"Then I dragged her along to Mappin & Webb and she hated every second of it," Effy was saying, describing the main parts of my day with her in vapid celebrity mode.

"She didn't say anything though I'll bet, just looked at the jewellery with you and ignored everything you said." Miss Fitch commented with a laugh, "Naomi doesn't seem to enjoy shopping."

"That's an understatement," Effy said, "Though I could probably get her a job acting with the way she behaved, bit of polish and she might even be believable. At one stage I actually thought she did like a pair of shoes that I was holding up."

"That's not very nice Naomi," Miss Fitch called from the back seat where she was squeezed in with Cook and Effy, "you never paid any interest in what I was buying."

"I was undercover with Miss Stonem," I replied without looking back, "I was pretending to be her friend so the press wouldn't become suspicious of who I was."

"_Then_, she beat up my brother."

"She did _what?_"

"Now Effy baby that's not fair, she didn't beat Tony up and she did take on those other two guys that were out to get you."

"Three guys?" Miss Fitch exclaimed. Effy nodded and Cook did his best to explain what had really happened.

"Well one of them was Tony, Effy's brother, who was there as part of a test of Naomi's awareness skills and general abilities. I always test my employees before I employ them; but Naomi didn't know that so she sort of dealt with him."

"She punched him in the back of the head James."

"I _did_ think he was about to attack you with a knife!" I protested from the front seat. Darren looked across at me and winked.

"Then," Cook continued overriding an aggrieved splutter from Effy, "two people came on the scene that had been threatening Effy for months. It's a very lucky coincidence for us that they chose the day that Effy was with Naomi. One of them is under lock and key after Naomi dealt with him rather firmly. Well he got caged after they let him out of hospital, the other will be caught pretty soon. Naomi there pretty much saved my baby's life, she certainly saved her from a very nasty attack."

"Jesus, you've had an eventful few days Naomi."

"Very eventful," Cook continued. "The very next day she was at your place and you know what happened after that."

"Yeah, I don't think I'll ever forget how scared I was that day, or the next." Miss Fitch said quietly, resulting in a pat on the knee from Effy.

"Yeah, it's been terrifying for me as well," I said causing Darren to raise an eyebrow in surprise."

"Why was that Naomi?" Miss Fitch asked from the back.

"I've had to go shopping with you and Miss Stonem there, bloody scary that is. I think I'd rather be shot at.

o+o+o

We pulled onto the small private heliport in Wandsworth without any major hitches or even any major arguments. To my surprise even Effy had been talking to me along the way, though I had to admit I hadn't been very talkative; I was too busy looking out of the car for signs of people following us or looking at possible ambush sites. Darren and Cook looking on with interest.

"Jesus H Christ Blondie don't you _ever_ switch off? Relax girl; seriously, we're in no danger." He'd said, as we passed out of the city and across the river onto the South Bank, through Lambeth and into Battersea, past the four great chimneys of Battersea power station and alongside Battersea park, I knew the area well, it had been a good hiding place once losing myself in the bushes using the training I'd learnt on the hillsides of Wales.

"She's _always_ like this James," Miss Fitch had commented, "I don't think she ever does switch off."

You're not paying me to switch off Cook, you're paying me to keep Miss Fitch alive and, well, I can't do that if I relax now can I?"

Cook cocked his head at me and shrugged, and that had ended that particular conversation.

o+o+o

The heliport we arrived at, perched on the banks of the Thames between Battersea and Wandsworth, was neat and modern. The strip itself was little more than a platform that jutted out into the Thames, with a couple of smaller pads on what looked like a car park next to it, but the hotel area where we were to wait for our charter was lush and luxurious. Miss Fitch and Effy looked right at home, Cook looked extremely comfortable. I must have looked like a bag of boiled shite; I really wasn't looking forward to this at all.

We were asked to wait in the comfortable lounge and our bags were taken away so a member of the ground crew could , presumably, load them onto our flight. We sat around looking at the river, the three of them chatting aimlessly and, after only five minutes of abstinence, Cook ordered a round of drinks; frowning at my request for a still water.

"Blondie have a proper drink, you look like you need it."

"I don't drink anymore Cook, remember?"

"Yeah, but I can try to tempt you can't I?"

He could, oh how he could. I can't help but think back to my last flight in a helicopter; I don't remember much of it, but I do remember the pain and the wooziness. I remember the anguish of knowing that my team were dead and that I had once again failed them; what I remembered wasn't good.

My transfer flight to Blighty hadn't exactly been the 'get back on the horse' experience that I could have benefited from, the diversion and the rough landing contributing to my current feeling of dread.

I wasn't happy about flying, so sue me...I've got good reasons.

But that offer of a drink sounded so good right then, curse you James Cook, curse you for tempting me.

"Are you all right Naomi," Miss Fitch asked quietly as Cook shared a joke with his girlfriend; sipping at the bourbon that had arrived while I was lost in my memories.

"I'm fine Miss Fitch, just don't like flying any more that's all."

"I used to be scared of flying, but I've done it so much now I'm pretty much blasé about it. How long have you been afraid, all your life?"

"Since December," I replied watching in horror as a dark blue Sikorsky helicopter eased down onto the platform and came to a halt.

"That's our ride," Cook interrupted happily, sparing me any further explanation. "Come on people let's haul ass, daylights wasting and Rob Fitch isn't a man to keep waiting, and Cookie fancies a party."

Reluctantly I got up and followed them across the 'car park' to the helicopter, it's rotors spinning slowly as its engine idled. Instinctively I ducked as I ran towards it, there's no real reason for doing that, the rotors don't come low enough to be able to hit you; but you can't help doing it, and it's actually part of the helicopter training I'd done in the CPU.

Cook and Effy got on board first, taking the best seats, the ones that were facing forwards and I gestured to Miss Fitch to take the next place. Once she was in and seated I was ushered on board by one of the crew, who pointed to the last remaining spot. I climbed on board, sat down and began strapping myself in; pulling the headphones with the boom mic over my head. I could hear the chatter of the others as I watched the door slam closed and the crew member climb in through the co-pilots door and settle himself in. After a quick round of introductions over the headset I could feel my hear racing in time with the blades as they spun up the turbines and eased us into the air.

Everyone was looking at me as we made to take off; I guess they could tell how terrified I was. As the helicopter lifted off the pad I had my eyes squeezed tightly closed, the memories flooding back of that Blackhawk. I felt a movement next to me and something warm press onto the hand I hadn't realised was gripping the seat until the knuckles were white. I opened my eyes and looked down to see a perfectly manicured set of fingers covering my own and for some reason everything felt a whole lot better.

"It's ok Naomi," I heard over the headphones, the noise of the helicopter still making hearing difficult, "you'll make it, you're a fighter too aren't you."

I closed my eyes at her words, trying to push them away; but I made no effort to remove her hand from mine. In fact I made no effort to move at all.

As the helicopter levelled out into normal flight and I could feel the acceleration as we headed off Westbound; I finally opened my eyes once again...

...and they were met by the most knowing smirk I think I've ever seen.

_'Effy Stonem, what are you thinking?'_

.

.

.

**A/N -** I bet we know don't we boys and girls...thanks for reading, see you next time. Get your party gear ready, Tux's and posh frocks for the Fitch Family Ball (-:


	19. Sharp Words, Shotguns and Seductresses

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt and an impressively severe lack of talent and a cold the likes of which would fell even Sgt Naomi! Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which makes me very upset). I do apparently have a sick obsession with skinning people, it must be a Skins thing (-:

**Authors Note **– Right, as with the update for my other little tale, sorry it's late I've not been at all well, (still rough if the truth be told) but old Sarge here kept telling me to suck it up and get back in the war, so here I am with chapter nineteen and somewhere along the way I think I've broke 100K words, not bad for a short mess about eh? Though take out these indulgent little rambles and there's probably only 50K words lol.

Hope you enjoy this one, time for one more 'new' character to make an appearance, someone did wonder if they'd be appearing...well now you know where the plan was going (-:

**Chapter 19 - Sharp Words, Shotguns and Seductresses.**

I really _don't_ like helicopters, I've decided that this one inalienable fact is absolute gospel on this short hop over to Fitch Manor in Bath. Admittedly this time I'm not bleeding all over the floor, no-one is threatening my ride with ground to air missiles and the pilot isn't trying to simulate a rollercoaster with no safety harness and no rails to keep us from smashing into the ground.

In fact as flights go, this is a really quite pleasant one. We zipped out of London on a route that took us West, over Fulham and my old haven of Hammersmith, before turning North of the city over Brent; finally turning West and eventually picking up the concrete river that was the M4 by Maidenhead. It was a route that we were assured was designed to keep us out of the overly busy airspace of Heathrow which made more than sense to me, anything to keep us out of trouble. Actually, it's not too bad as journeys go, it's not far to Bath as the crow, or the helicopter, flies; so really it was an ideal method of transport.

It's just got too many bad memories, that's all it is; though I think it might well be safer than driving a BMW along the M4 again.

To my relief, not long after takeoff, Miss Fitch decided that I was ok and took her reassuring hand off mine; and despite the strange little looks I kept getting from the 'C' list wannabe opposite me I managed, unbelievably, to relax.

"You doing ok there Blondie?"

Cook's languid drawl came through my earphones, slightly distorted by the tinny crackle of the noise cancelling microphone which was struggling heavily under the noise of the rotors directly above us. There's a reason the military use throat mic's, in the air _and_ on the ground; though I suppose the lack of comfort and the fact that the users, all too often, perform their very best impressions of Daleks probably limit their use in the commercial sector. It's a shame because I can barely make out Cook's Southern accent with the mic's we've been supplied with, though that _might_ be because of the amusement in his voice.

"I'm fine boss, why?" I said loudly to ensure that he heard me and to tell him that I wasn't in the mood for any of his games.

"Because you look like a plateful of warmed up puke Naomikins, why didn't you tell me you were afraid of flying?"

"I didn't know I was, not until Miss Fitch mentioned going to a heliport James, and I'm not sure I'm actually afraid of flying as such. I just don't think I like helicopters any more that's all."

"Why's that Naomi?" Miss Fitch's voice came over the headset and I could feel everyone's eyes boring into me.

"What's to like? They're held up in the sky by something that's nothing more than a scientific principle not a law, if the engines stop working then we have all the aerodynamic stability of a breezeblock and the ground is a long way away and pretty bloody hard. I'm no physicist but I'm sure we're not going to bounce when we hit it...and the only thing that's keeping us in the sky is a couple of nuts and bolts that were probably made in a sweatshop in the Far East and bought because they were the lowest bidder in some commercial tender; that and Murphy's law says that _I'll_ be in the helicopter that had its Jesus Nut fitted by a drunken idiot, fresh from school that doesn't know how to spell 'metal fatigue', let alone recognise it."."

"Jesus Blondie, you've really thought about this haven't you?"

I nodded and winked at him, I certainly had; I'd thought about something that I'd read somewhere and used it to hide my real fear, the very real fear of remembering the past, remembering the pain of my last trip.

Thankfully the conversation moved onto other things, mostly consisting of the view from the windows. I simply closed my eyes with the intention of feigning sleep for the rest of the short trip, opening them only when I heard loud voices in the headphones; and then only to see what was going on. I had no interest in the sights below us as we whipped across the English countryside; had no interest in the fact that we were flying towards the scene of mayhem that had occurred barely three days ago. I could hear Miss Fitch and Effy chatting away over the headphones, pointing out places of interest, or places they had been or things that they could see. Lulled by the familiar sound of Miss Fitch's voice, I allowed the weariness caused by my lack of good quality sleep to wash over me, and relaxed into my seat.

"Naomi…_Naomi!"_

I was shaken awake by a rough hand and opened my eyes to see the smiling face of James Cook staring into mine.

"Jesus Cook, what the fuck? What's the big issue? What's gone wrong?"

"Nothing's gone wrong, we're here Naomikins, Fitch fucking Manor. Grab your gear and get moving Blondie; we've got a chance of the big time here and I need your fucking 'A' game, you with me soldier?"

I shook the sleep from my head, and nodded carefully. Cook was right, we'd landed in the gardens of the Fitch's country home and with barely a bump to wake me up. Effy and Miss Fitch were already out of the chopper and stood off to one side, our travel bags placed on the grass next to the small helipad.

Fumbling with the straps and the headset I gratefully dropped from the helicopter back onto terra firma and, with a nudge in the back from Cook, ran over to join the others.

"Right then ladies," Cook shouted over the noise of the helicopter talking off behind us, "that's what I call arriving in style. Makes a change to get off one of those things without people shooting at you eh Blondie? Not that you seemed that bothered about it, doing your sleeping beauty impression!"

"Do you always snore like that Naomi?" Effy asked with a smirk. I'd hate to be sharing a room with you tonight.

"Well thankfully this place is big enough that no one _has_ to share rooms," replied Miss Fitch, surprisingly snappily. "Unless they want to that is," she looked pointedly at Cook and Effy.

"Anyway, I'm sure dad has arranged for everyone to be looked after properly," Miss Fitch said with a glance over at the house and the approaching staff members.

"Aw, I'm sure Naomi was looking forward to bunking up with me," Effy replied with a broad grin, "I know James was."

"I never said anything of the sort babe and you know it, though if you're offering..."

"Boss!"

"James!" Effy and I exclaimed simultaneously.

"Hey ladies, what can I say? You're both good looking girls...I'm only human."

I strolled over to his side, ignoring the looks from Effy and Miss Fitch and grabbed him by the arm, dragging him away from the others.

"What the fuck is going on Cook, you've been pushing my fucking buttons for two days now; what is your issue? If you've decided that you want me out of your company just tell me and I'm gone, you don't have to be a twat about it."

"Woah, Blondie, cool your heels girl, seriously! Cookie is just having a laugh."

"Then what was that shit about then? In fact, what was all that crap in the car last night about James, why the fuck did you have to bring up my middle names and take the piss like that?"

"Because you're so fucking stiff Naomi, Emily there was trying to be nice to you and you're acting like a total fucking stuck-up bitch to her. Miss Fitch this, Miss Fitch that. We're in close protection roles Naomi, you're not in the Army anymore; you're allowed to loosen up."

"No James I'm not allowed." I spat at him. "If I loosen up, I get people killed, do you understand that? Anyway, it's not as if she's all sweetness and light. Didn't want anything to do with me last time I was here, treated me like a fucking servant."

"Didn't look like you were her servant back there in the helicopter Blondie, looked like she was trying to be your friend."

"She's not my friend James, she's a package, that's all she is; and as of tomorrow she's going to be someone else's problem."

"Not if I've got anything to do with it girl, with your help over the last few days I think I might be on the brink of the biggest deal of my fucking career; and _you,_ Blondie, you and Emily are the baited hook I'm dangling in front of Rob Fitch."

"Jesus, you're serious aren't you?" OK so I'd guessed as much, but this was the first time that Cook had every come out and said it to my face; and sometimes feigning ignorance is an advantage.

"You're gawdamned right I'm serious Blondie, do you have any idea how many people Rob has tried to get to protect his daughter in the last eight months? Eleven, that's how many; and every single one of them, bar one, hasn't made it past day one. Some just quit, some got told to quit; but you, my wonderful employee, are not only the only person to make it past the first date, but hell Blondie, Emily actually seems to like having you around. Rob's lapping this up like a hungry kitten Naomi; I could sell him blue butter right about now."

"How big a contract are we talking about Cook?"

"Big enough to keep my business going and you lot in luxury for the next few years let's put it that way. You help me land it Naomi and I'll guarantee that there's a good position in the company for you."

"What you mean a position that doesn't entail me being stuck with Miss Fitch for the rest of my days?"

He laughed at that, causing Effy and Miss Fitch to look across at us. I'd seen them both giving us worried glances after I'd dragged Cook away, Effy looking as if she wanted to kill me again; probably concerned I'd knock her boyfriend out, just like I did her brother.

"Well perhaps not for that long, but no Naomikins, you aren't that lucky, or really you aren't that _unlucky_; I'd have cut off my left bollock to protect someone as pretty as Emily there...before Effy of course."

We glanced across at the brunette who was deep in discussion with the short red head, they seemed to be hitting it off, which surprised me.

"I _can_ make you head up the personal protection side of things though Naomi," Cook continued, "You'll get to organise the protection for Katie and probably James as well; you'll have a team to manage..."

"and a pay rise?" I interrupted, only half joking.

"Naomi you've only been working for me for a couple of days and you've already destroyed a company car and tried to bankrupt me again at that flaming spa Lara loves so much."

I glared at him until finally he smiled, "Ok Naomi, we'll see; I'll discuss role and salary once you're out of your probation period. Do me proud, keep Emily safe and most of all keep her sweet and we'll talk about a pay raise."

"Fine," I replied. "But enough with the prodding, and enough of the little jibes Cook, especially about Amy. I've got enough on my plate without you stirring things. Miss Fitch is a package, nothing more, understood? She's not my friend; I can be friendly, but I've got to keep the distance between us wherever I can."

"Ok Blondie," he drawled, his cheeky grin firmly back on his face; "I get you, friendly but not friends. That'll work for me."

"Good."

He bowed dramatically and gestured for me to return to the others; grinning despite myself I swept past him imperiously and rejoined the girls.

"Everything ok James?" Effy asked, eyeing me suspiciously as we returned.

"Everything's fine little darling, Naomi here wanted to have a quick word about tonight that's all. Shop talk you know?"

I didn't believe for one second that she was convinced, but thankfully she let it drop.

"Andrew will show you where you're staying tonight guys, if you'll excuse me I need to go and find my mum and say hello. Naomi do you want to head up to your room and get freshened up?"

"Trying to get rid of me Miss Fitch?" I asked as she spluttered her excuses. "I'm afraid James here has told me I'm not to let you out of my sight for the duration; I'm afraid you're stuck with me."

"Oh well, I guess I'll have to live with that," she said regaining her composure and smiling at Effy and Cook.

"I'll talk to you in a bit Naomikins, as soon as I've got news." Cook said, waving as he picked up his and Effy's travel bags; effortlessly hoisting them over his powerful shoulders and walking away.

"Andrew," Miss Fitch said to the guy in the penguin suit that had arrived on scene. "Would you take mine and Miss Campbell's bags to our rooms please, and where's mother?"

"Certainly Miss Emily, Mr Fitch has suggested that Miss Campbell take Miss Katie's old room. Mr and Mrs Fitch-Brace are taking the guest suite in the East Wing as usual. Mrs Fitch is in the South Gardens, I believe she is indulging herself in some Clay Pigeon shooting this afternoon."

"A new hobby," Miss Fitch told me, "she's not very good at it though. Thanks Andrew."

Andrew bowed slightly at her dismissal and gestured to the other members of staff that had come out with him to pick up our bags. My tiny little travel case had been swamped by the rest of the luggage and even against the two bags that Miss Fitch had brought looked desperately out of place.

"You seem to like to travel light Naomi."

"Don't need to carry much Miss Fitch, change of clothes, some gym stuff Cook advised me to bring. It's a working night for me tonight, don't really do posh parties anyway so I doubt I'd have got all dressed up even if I wasn't working."

"Well I hope you're going to try and have fun this evening Naomi, mum's probably been working on this party for weeks; she'll be devastated if you don't enjoy yourself."

"I thought we'd sorted this out Miss Fitch, I'm just like the waiting staff or the cooks, I'm not here to have fun."

"Well you could at least try."

"Ok Miss Fitch, if it means that much to you and your mother, I'll try to have fun," I lied; deciding that this was a small area of ground to give in order to keep her 'sweet' as Cook had put it. I don't actually have to have fun, just let her think that I'm going to.

"Good," she replied, obviously mollified, "now come on, I'll introduce you to my mum."

'_Great!'_

o+o+o

The walk from the LZ to the South Gardens took us just over ten minutes and the sounds of gunfire echoed off the walls and buildings were, for some reason, setting my teeth on edge.

"Mum's latest little fad," Miss Fitch explained again, "she does this a lot; starts off new hobbies, buys a ton of stuff and then gets bored. One of our old stables is filled with the remnants of her 'trying something new' we can't _let_ her have animals any more she's that bad. I give this one till the end of the month, she's not very good at shooting, I don't think she's hit a thing yet and failure is guaranteed to bore her faster than anything else."

"It's not as easy as it looks." I told her as we walked through the formal garden section and towards the gate in the red brick wall.

"Clay pigeon shooting?"

"Any kind of shooting. The trouble is people on the TV make it look easy, but it's a harder skill than you'd think. You've got to deal with the conditions, the wind, the movement of the target, everything. Everything has to be taken into account; it's not about just pointing it and pulling the trigger you know? It takes real skill to be able to shoot properly, it takes practice and discipline and real focus; and when you get it all right it's the most connected you can possibly feel. It's a cliché but it's like you're one with your weapon, you, the rifle and the target are totally connected and there's no way you can miss. It's an incredible feeling."

She stopped and looked at me, an amused grin on her face.

"What?" I asked; pausing and looking back at her.

"Nothing, it's just…I think that's the most passionately I've heard you talk about a subject you know? Ever since I first met you, you've always been so cool and aloof, so bloody calculating; it's nice to see the other side of you again."

"Again?" I asked, not rising to the rest of her comment.

"Yeah," she said setting off towards the gate and the sound of the shotgun, "again. I've only seen the real you once or twice, it's quite a privilege."

I stood in amongst the rose beds and watched her as she walked away. The idea that she'd seen anything _close_ to the real me scared me more than a little. I'd managed to put our little reflections in her flat behind me, obviously I'd let more slip than I'd imagined.

'_She's probably just mistaken; just because she __**thinks**__ she knows the real you, doesn't mean she actually does.'_

I reassured myself with that little bit of self delusion, wrapping it around my shoulders like an old blanket, before following her once more.

o+o+o

The south gardens were little more than a huge field surrounded by trees and a small wooden fence. At the near end of the field was a wooden shed-like structure and from inside there was the sound of shooting and more than a little bit of swearing.

"MUM!" Miss Fitch called out as we approached the shed. A dark head popped out from around the side of the shed bearing a broad smile and carrying a shotgun, a shotgun that appeared to be locked and loaded and, albeit inadvertently, pointing directly at us.

"_Point that thing down range!"_ I shouted, shoving Miss Fitch out of the firing line, my old Sergeants instincts taking over. Mrs Fitch jumped at the sound of my voice and looked down at the shotgun, dropping it as if it was a live snake.

"Sorry, sorry!" she shouted as I ran over to pick it up from the grass, flicking the breech lever to break the barrel and eject the two live cartridges onto the grass.

"Safety first Mrs Fitch, never forget your range rules." I told her, handing back the now verified-safe shotgun.

"This is Naomi Campbell mum, my latest bodyguard...sorry Naomi, my latest CPO." Miss Fitch said, correcting herself by way of introduction; Mrs Fitch broke out into a broad smile.

"Nice to meet you Naomi," she said taking the shotgun and holding out her hand, "Rob has told me all about you."

"Nothing bad I hope," I replied shaking her hand, noting the effortlessly strong grip.

"Oh no, it's been positively glowing, he never mentioned that you have such a powerful voice though."

She laughed that old money laugh, the kind of braying cackle that dominates TV shows about the landed gentry. We may call this place Fitch manor, but I guess that out of the two of them only one of the Fitch's is 'to the manor born'.

"Naomi's ex-army mum, if you ask her nicely she might take the time to teach you how to shoot that thing properly."

_'Or at least carry it safely.'_ I thought to myself.

"Great idea Emily love, Naomi would you mind giving me a few tips, I do seem to be pretty poor at this. My father, bless him, will be turning in his grave at how bad I am. He, of course, was a fabulous shot; he used to hunt every weekend...do you hunt Naomi?"

"Only Taliban," I replied, earning me an elbow and a reproving look from Miss Fitch. She couldn't be expecting me to take this dotty old bat seriously could she? It's like a conversation with someone from the 1940's.

"I'm sorry Naomi? I didn't catch that."

"I said the only thing I've ever had to hunt were Taliban insurgents Mrs Fitch, out in Afghanistan. I'm actually not a big fan of any kind of hunting though." I ignored the look of shock on Miss Fitch's face and kept up my stern look. I am, after all, supposed to be projecting an image of quiet confidence to the mother of my charge.

"Neither am I," she said conspiratorially, as if the ghost of her father might hear her. "I hated having to listen to all his gruesome stories about killing all those poor defenceless creatures. So, Naomi, can you teach a dotty old woman like me how to use this thing?"

"Mum will you stop playing with Naomi and act normally please, your Aunt Margaret impression really does get tiring you know?"

"Oh fair enough," she said smiling affectionately at her daughter, a Scottish accent shouldering its way past her 1940's British one; "though I can't believe that you'd deny your mother the only fun in her life, Emily Fitch."

Miss Fitch snorted and Mrs Fitch smiled across at me. "Sorry Naomi, I can't help but play act a little when people come around to visit. I'm not one of those 'posh nobs' who normally live in these places. I'm actually from Edinburgh, I met my husband when I was studying in Manchester."

"Mum's the real brains of the family," Miss Fitch said proudly, "taught Dad everything he knows didn't you mum?"

"Not quite Emily love, but I did help him through our University classes."

"What did you study Mrs Fitch," I asked politely as she led us into the shooting pen and handed myself and Miss Fitch some ear defenders.

"Call me Jenna," she said absently, "we were both studying Business Studies and Management."

"That's a coincidence, "I said pleasantly surprised we had something in common, "I finished my degree in Business Studies last year," I told her, "hard work it was as well. Not much time to study on tour."

They both looked at me as if questioning my sanity. "I did an Open University course," I said, "signed up for it before I shipped out and did my exams when I was at home. The Army helped out with my studies, but it still took me eighteen months longer than normal to get through it."

"What grade did you get Naomi?" Mrs Fitch asked, her face alight with curiosity.

"I managed a 2:1, I was hoping to get a First, but the war sort of got in the way of my coursework and my revision."

"Well done," she said, a big smile plastered on her lined face. "I only managed a 2:1 studying full time. Rob got a 2:2 and I don't think he's ever forgiven me for beating him. He's just slightly competitive, you may have noticed."

I nodded, "I take it you were in the same class then, college romance and all that.

"Oh yes," she replied smirking away, " it was like one of those bad romances you've probably read about; you know two people that hate each other thrown together against their will; eventually falling in love and living happily ever after."

_'Without the happily ever after'_ I thought to myself, remembering their files.

"Nice story," I said, "Cute...but not love at first sight then?"

"Oh God no, I hated Rob when I first met him, he was arrogant, boorish, a total pig actually. But he's got a softer side...somewhere. Probably very deep down," she said dismissively. "Now Naomi, come along and tell me what I'm doing wrong."

She pulled down her ear defenders, gesturing for us to do the same, and expertly cracked open the breech of the expensive shotgun. From an expensive looking leather pouch at her side she quickly loaded two shells and snapped the breach back into place.

"Safety off," she said, thumbing at the back of the weapon before stamping down on an electronic trigger under her foot.

"_Pull!_" she yelled, pretty much redundantly as the foot pedal clearly launched the two clays into the sky. Within seconds I could see what she was doing wrong, well the many things she was doing wrong. It was like I would be teaching a rookie how to shoot and I wondered if anyone had shown her _anything_ about shooting before letting her blast away with something so lethal.

The two shots rang out within a second of each other as the long silvered barrel tracked across the sky and within seconds both of the clays fell to the floor unharmed. It was a great day for clay-kind.

"Bollocks!" Jenna spat with feeling, ejecting the spent shells from the gun.

"May I?" I asked tentatively and was surprised to find the shotgun pressed firmly into my hand.

"I have to say that I'm not very good with shotguns Jenna; in fact I've only ever used them for building clearance, and those ones were pumps. But I'll see what I can do to demonstrate."

Jenna pushed a pair of shooting glasses into my hand and I slipped them on, the amber lenses making everything seem that little bit clearer. I looked down at the over and under shotgun, it was nothing less than a fucking work of art; hand carved scrollwork and walnut stock. It only took a slight tilt to check the name carved into the breach to confirm my suspicions. I was holding a weapon that cost more than most people's homes, this was a custom built Purdey, a gun normally used by royalty.

"Stamp on the pedal Naomi and the clays will fly," Jenna said cheerily; ignoring my envious look at the gun she had handed me. So I'm a bit sad; I like fast cars, I like pretty girls and I like guns. I'm a fairly simply person to please really, and this _was_ the Ferrari of guns; I could feel my hands sweating slightly as I held her.

Taking a couple of breaths to calm my nerves I closed the breach and pulled the gun to my shoulder. She was beautiful, some guns fight you as you raise them; some are too nose heavy, some have too much weight at the back. This baby was balanced perfectly; to move it was effortless and you could feel the quality as soon as you touched it. Giving this shotgun back would be hard, if you could fall in love with an inanimate object then I would, and probably had.

Feeling calmer I thumbed the release lever, opened the breach and slipped in the two shells, noticing almost absently that these too were from James Purdey and Sons; nothing but the best for Jenna Fitch and her hobby.

"Safety off," I said loudly as I clicked the butt switch to live and shouldered the weapon once again, pulling it tightly into my shoulder and training both of my eyes down the barrel. "_Pull!_" I said stepping on the plate and watched as the clays launched into my eye line. Waiting until they hit the top of their arc across the sky, I closed one eye, took careful aim and squeezed the trigger; aiming slightly ahead of them to take into account their movement. The first clay I merely clipped, breaking it in two and sending the parts spinning; the second I hit full on, detonating it in a puff of red dust.

"Good shooting Naomi," both Jenna and Miss Fitch exclaimed as I ejected the shells and laid the shotgun down on the shooters table in front of me; nothing that it's automatic safety was now engaged, my love for the weapon increasing exponentially.

"Now tell me what you did to manage that," Jenna continued, picking up the Purdey loading it and and throwing it into her shoulder.

"Well for starters Mrs...Jenna," I said catching her soft scowl, "You need to feel the balance of that weapon. You need to pull it into yourself and let it become an extension of your arms. I adjusted her grip, moving her arms so that it nestled into her shoulder.

"Now you need to pull the butt into your shoulder and lean into it slightly to take the recoil."

"But that hurts my shoulder."

"No Jenna, it hurts your shoulder when you don't do it; the recoil on one of these babies kicks like an angry horse. You have to pull it tight into the shoulder or it'll smash your shoulder to pieces."

I wasn't lying either, even holding it tight had given my old shoulder wound a good pasting. Guess that's always going to be a problem for me now, I was never any good at shooting from the right shoulder, being a left handed girl.

"Now when it's in good and tight try sweeping it, the clay is going to be flying in an arc so you want to track it, but be slightly in front, hit it at the top of the arc but hold the sights about a centimetre away at this kind of range. We'll talk about accounting for wind some other time, let's get you hitting those clays first."

I put on my range officer's hat for the next half hour or so, patiently reloading the shotgun, coaching and advising Jenna Fitch on how to anticipate the arc, how to squeeze the trigger; everything really. She was actually quite a quick learner and after thirty five minutes of tuition she's managing to hit at least one of the two clays.

"Oh this is just wonderful," she finally exclaimed as she smashed both clays into dust. "Emily love you have got to try this, I was enjoying the shooting before but when you get it right it's just perfect."

"Not for me Mum, I'm scared of guns remember? Besides, I think I've seen enough of them recently. Do you mind if I take Naomi back to the house, I'm sure she'll want to get ready for this evening."

"Oh just another quarter of an hour love, if that's ok with you both. I think I'm just getting the hang of this."

I felt my lips twitch involuntarily as Miss Fitch rolled her eyes at her mother's enthusiasm and mouthed, "you've created a monster," at me silently. Actually it was kind of nice; teaching people to shoot is something I always enjoyed doing and working with Jenna Fitch made me realise how much I missed it.

Another good thing in my life taken away by that bloody ambush.

Finally Emily placed her hand on her mother's ammunition bag and called a halt to the proceedings, claiming that she needed to head back to the house for a hot bath. Jenna seemed quite upset by the impromptu ending of her lesson and tried once again to get her daughter to try her hand.

"I told you mum, I don't like guns; I don't even like the fact that I sell the damn things, you _know_ that."

"Naomi, you agree with me don't you? I think it's important that you learn to shoot Emily, it shows good breeding." Jenna said with her best Aunt Margaret voice on again.

"I wouldn't like to comment Jenna," I said carefully. "I'm afraid my ex felt the same way, she hated guns, the Army and everything to do with it. Didn't even like watching action movies with me."

I caught her eyes narrow and flick towards her daughter at my words, I wasn't that surprised; Close Protection's file on Jenna Fitch had hinted at her displeasure at her sons behaviour so I'm not surprised she'd pull a face at my words. She may not have been born with a silver spoon in her mouth but she certainly acted like she had a broom up her arse. Weird really because she _must_ have known about me and Amy; I can't imagine that Rob wouldn't have mentioned it, and one glance at the news yesterday would have educated her on that little story.

Still, surprisingly, she didn't say anything and simply smiled back at me warmly.

"Well Emily has always been a bit odd like that as well Naomi." she winked at Miss Fitch before putting on her Aunt Margaret persona, once more British to the core.

"Perhaps one day we'll be able to convince young Emily here to try a bit of shooting what?"

"Absolutely Mrs Fitch," I said in my best British Army Officer's voice, "get her to join the party what?"

Miss Fitch looked at the two of us as if we were mad and we both looked down our noses at her, before turning away. I was trying desperately not to laugh and I could see tears of merriment in Jenna's dark ringed eyes. I put out my hand almost despite myself.

"Pleasure to meet you Mrs Fitch, good luck with the shooting."

"Nice to meet you too, and thank you for the lesson Naomi; if you get chance, before you leave, I'd greatly appreciate another one. Only if you have the time and Emily will set you free that is."

"I'll see what I can do Jenna."

"Lovely, Emily would you be a dear and tell Andrew I'll be up at the house in half an hour and if he could ask someone to have my bath ready please?"

Miss Fitch sighed slightly and nodded, "Yeah, will do Mum, come on Naomi I'll show you to your room."

As we walked away, the sound of gunfire echoed around the gardens; though this time it was followed by laughter rather than swearing.

o+o+o

The room in Fitch manor I had been assigned was large and sumptuous, it was also clearly the room of a 'girly' girl. Amy would have fucking loved it, all stuffed toys and expensive dolls scattered liberally throughout the place; on shelves and dressing tables and even in a large glass cabinet that dominated one corner.

"Katie's room," Miss Fitch had told me when she showed me in, her face spoke volumes about their differences in taste, it was about as far apart from her flat in St John's Wood as the Western and Eastern views of the world are.

I can't actually believe these two are twins, they're _so_ not alike, despite Miss Fitch's attempts to make it seem otherwise. Miss Fitch is Habitat, Mrs Fitch-Brace is definitely Laura Ashley.

Me? I'm more an Ikea girl, I like Habitat, but I can't really afford it.

I really wish I could afford the bath I'm currently soaking away in though. With Miss Fitch was securely tucked up in her own room with orders to call me if there was anything urgent; and after unpacking my things I'd headed to the bathroom to find a massive roll top bath, already filled with steaming hot water. About thirty seconds later my clothes were folded on the bed and I'd slipped into the water, my skin turning a nice shade of boiled lobster red as I did so.

Even for a self-proclaimed hard-ass like me a bath is a fucking fabulous experience; especially one where you can just lay back and enjoy it. It's not quite as fancy as the whirlpool back at the company apartment, but it's probably more relaxing; and relax I did. The aches and strains of the last few days easing away as, for the first time since I'd left this house days ago, I was able to properly switch off. Miss Fitch was safe, the house had its own security team and I wasn't needed for a while. It felt good to finally turn my brain off and allow the warm water to soothe away my cares...

...I was woken from my doze by a sound in the main part of my room, something that sounded suspiciously like a door opening and closing. I opened my mouth and breathed slowly, maximising the airflow but minimising the noise in my ears, and concentrated; listening for the slightest sound. After a minute or so I relaxed, it was nothing; or at least nothing important, the bag I'd placed behind the bedroom door hadn't fallen so no-one had attempted to get in. I put it to the back of my mind, assuming I'd simply heard something in one of the other rooms.

It was only after I've got properly cleaned up and had pulled on the warm bathrobe that had been placed over the bathroom door that I realised my mistake. Someone _had_ been in my room, and they had left me a present.

Hanging from a hook on the back of the adjoining room's door was a long midnight blue dress in a plastic carrier; on it was a note.

_"Thought you might change your mind and decide to get dressed up...my treat. Ems x"_

Seriously, the girl never gives up; not for the first time today I wished she'd remembered that I was working tonight. I did like the dress though, Miss Fitch obviously had good taste; or someone she knew, like Bonnie, had good taste anyway. It was a ridiculously impractical dress though, especially for me. I can't carry off the whole 'flowing gown' deal, and if I wore that to the party I'd get more than a few stares I'm sure.

Not because I wouldn't look good in it you understand, but because it's almost totally backless and you need unblemished skin to carry that off; and my back is anything but unblemished, the tattooists needle forever removing the white flesh. In fact I'm sure the artwork on my back would horrify some of the people at this party and I would hate to embarrass the hosts.

Rubbing my freshly conditioned hair in the thick bath towel I'd found folded by the sink, I turned back to my business wear and picked out the clothes for the evening. It was a smart trouser suit, classy but not over the top. With a smart and comfortable white blouse it would be perfect for what I was doing this evening, overseeing security and making sure Miss Fitch was safe from everything and everyone. Including, as I'd sort of promised Darren last night, herself.

Dressed, suited and booted and with one last military check in the mirror I clipped the radio to my belt, feeding the cable for the earpiece and microphone up my back and out of sight and holding the PTT switch in my right hand I slipped on my jacket.

I took another glance in the mirror to make sure everything was discreetly hidden before straightening the jacket and heading out into the house.

Sorted!

It was getting late as I completed my rounds of the house; making sure that everyone was ready and that the Fitch's security team was prepared; well, as prepared as a set of bumbling amateurs could be. I'd performed a radio check with the team at various locations around the house and reassured myself that the kit Rob Fitch had been sold was as good as it looked. Finally happy, I wandered back into the hallway to be faced with a grinning James Cook.

"Naomi, there you are; where the hell have you been?" he asked, practically bouncing on the spot.

"Security checks Cook, making sure everyone's ready. I thought you were getting spruced up for the party boss," I said looking at the business clothes he'd been wearing all day.

"Going up to get dressed now Naomi; just got out of my meeting with Rob and you are now a consultant for the _official_ Fitch Industries security contractor. Rob's just signed the contract and we, my dear, are in for twelve months guaranteed work with the option for a further two years at the end of the twelve months if both parties are happy."

"Great news boss." I said, not really sure if it _is_ given what I know is coming.

"Sure is Blondie, but it does make you and Miss Fitch official you know? Part of the deal Naomikins, subject to Miss Fitch agreeing and indeed changing her mind that is. As of now, as far as Rob and I are concerned, you're her official CPO, head of the personal security section for the family and whenever you're here, in charge of the team at Fitch Manor. JJ will head up the whole package and technically he's in charge of everyone, but you've got control on the front lines Naomi, hope you can handle it."

"I can handle it Cook," I told him, totally sure of my own skill. "When are the guys here going to find out, there's one lazy little shit I want out of here ASAP."

"Well Rob says he's going to make a bit of an announcement later on tonight, once the party's under way so I'd hold off on the hiring and firing until it's all official."

I grinned back at him, his excitement practically contagious and he winked before walking away.

"If you see Effy down here," he called; looking over his shoulder, "tell her I'll be ten minutes, I just want a quick wash and I'll pull on the tux and be down. If you wouldn't mind keeping our secret Naomi, I'd kinda like to be the one to tell her myself."

I nodded and waved him away, already listening to the wittering of the fat idiot Kevin in my earpiece. He's making it sound like World War Three is breaking out as cars are arriving on the drive. I saw the tall man Miss Fitch had called Andrew hurrying to the entrance, straightening his tail coat as he went and decided to slip away and give Kevin a quick reality check.

Guests don't want to see the hired help in the hallway when they arrive, not when fucking Jeeves is setting such a good example for country living - Fitch style.

o+o+o

One swift verbal slapping of the malingerer in the control room later, and I'm back out in the main entrance; stood quietly, and unobtrusively, in the background, listening to the teams conversations and quietly giving orders.

It's about as interesting as doing security for a Regimental dinner party, but without the opportunity to spit in the officers' soup or to hear about the boys 'head rolling' the bowls and plates before service.

Don't ask, you really don't want to know!

Anyway, all I'm hearing about is caterers nearly coming to blows over canapé's, vehicles coming and going and the steady arrival of the guests; and all I'm having to do is give orders on things that an experienced team should be handling without me. It's all dull stuff and I'm distracted only slightly by the sight of Cook and Effy walking down the stairs, closely followed by Rob and Jenna Fitch, looking very much the happily married couple. They're all looking very smart, even Cook looks like he was born to wear a tuxedo.

As Rob and Jenna split up to mingle with their guests I noticed Katie coming down the staircase on the arm of a well built man with a chisel jaw and designer stubble. Gareth Brace was every inch the professional sportsman and Katie looked ecstatic to be hanging from his arm; a WAG to the end I guess.

She must have seen me looking across at her and nudged her husband, pointing and sending me a cheery little wave. I nodded back and was distracted by Kevin talking in my earpiece about a dark shape outside that turned out to be Andy, one of his bloody team that he'd totally failed to recognise. When I managed the strength to open my eyes once again I found Katie and her husband right in front of me and I was forced to endure a mind numbing set of introductions and conversations about rugby and Gareth's "boys" at Bath rugby club.

I'm not sure if he was _trying_ to annoy or offend me, or if he really _was_ a shallow, ignorant wanker; but after receiving an open invitation for myself and any "fit bird" I was dating to "swing by to put on a show for the boys," I was hard pressed not to eject the sorry fucker from the party myself. Using the toe of my boot! Instead I smiled sweetly and asked,

"Do you rugby boys still have to do that thing with the Mars bar when you join a new club? Everyone I knew in the Army that played said it was compulsory."

"What's that sweetie," Katie had asked causing Gareth to blush and mutter something incoherent about drinks, pulling her away. As they left I sensed someone slip up next to me and turned to find Effy Stonem her head tilted with a wry grin on her face.

"No Cook?" I asked her and her eyes narrowed for a second.

"He's getting drinks somewhere, he'll be along in a moment," she replied carefully. "That was nice of you, you handled Mr Muscles over there very well..."

"..for an ignorant meathead?" I interrupted.

"Indeed," she replied, "but you're actually very diplomatic when you're not hitting people; but I think even I might have slapped him if I were in your shoes, I can see why she likes you."

"Who Katie?" I asked, not realising she might actually like me after the things I'd said to her. "I wouldn't dream of insulting her husband, not directly anyway. I like _her_ though, sort of, for someone that seems that shallow she's actually quite nice."

"Diplomatic, violent, but not very bright are you Naomi?" Effy asked cryptically before turning and walking away. I was left wondering what she meant when I caught her look and followed her glance to see a vision of loveliness stood at the top of the stairs. Judging by the crowd Effy and I weren't the only people to see Miss Fitch's grand entrance, and I wasn't the only person to be captivated by it.

She was dressed in a long, red evening gown that gripped her tiny frame in all the right places. I could see every curve of her body in that dress and it wasn't a body that you'd forget in a hurry. Her freshly dyed hair was gleaming as the light caught it.

I know they say that red heads shouldn't wear red outfits; well Miss Fitch took that rule and threw it out of the window into a nearby plane and halfway around the world. She was spectacular, like a real life Jessica Rabbit, except twice as glamorous; and she was milking the attention for all it was worth.

Out of the corner of my eye I could see Katie colouring up, whilst red is most _definitely_ Miss Fitch's colour, green is most definitely _not_ Mrs Fitch-Brace's.

Katie looked almost sick with envy as she watched her sister looking out at the crowd and waving at people she knew with a broad grin on her face; stepping carefully so as not to show too much leg through the long slit that was allowing her to navigate that treacherous mountain of stairs. Finally she reached the half way level where the staircase turned and she paused again to look out at the guests, I noticed her eyes searching the crowd before finally coming to rest on mine.

She held my gaze for a few seconds before smiling at me and winking, before turning again and waving at her sister who was cheerily giving her daggers. I could feel my mouth dry up as she turned away and wondered why my pulse was racing as hard as it was. This was not a good sign, this is _not_ what I needed to see.

_'That girl will __**definitely**__ be the death of me,'_ I thought to myself as I slipped out of the hallway and into the relative quiet of the parlour. _'This is going to be a __**very**__ long year."_

.

.

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**A/N -** So there you go, say hello to Jenna Fucking Fitch - hey it's AU and I'm tired of writing/reading about her as a cow.

Oh and _ares_, don't go all fangirly, but thanks for the audio file, you should work on it and make it public kiddo, you read it quite well. It's very satisfying as a dabbler to think that you liked something I wrote enough to do that, so thanks again.

Sorry this one's so long, I shall try and restrain myself in future, that way when I promise you a party you get the whole thing and not just the opening dance...more party stories and possibly the aftermath next week, promise (-:

Until next time, have a great week people!


	20. It's My Party And I'll Cry If I Want To

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent and a distinct lack of awesomeness! Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which still makes me very upset but not as much as before).

**Authors Note **– Aw, guys…what is it about my Chapter 19's? So many people wanting to pop up and say hello. Possibly as many reviews as I got for Ch19 of Avalanche, though you were all much nicer (-;

I'm truly honoured that you're taking the time to read this, I really am.

So while a few of you are still paying attention, (fingers crossed), can I take this opportunity to say, how _gutted_ I am that _'What a Beautiful Mess'_ is finished and done with. If you haven't read it yet, (perhaps you're strange; you probably are to be reading this actually), you _must_ go and do so now. It is without a doubt one of _the_ finest, most wonderful stories on this site, and that's saying a lot because there's a lot of really good stuff on here.

That said, (and welcome back to those that popped off for a read - good wasn't it!) onwards my valiant followers, onwards to the promised party! Mine's a JD and Coke, but hold the JD...damned antibiotics! This one's a scary one for me...hope it's ok.

**Chapter 20 - It's My Party And I'll Cry If I Want To.**

The party was going with a veritable swing, by the looks of things anyway. The drink was flowing and people certainly seemed to be having a good time.

Well, everyone but me and my team were having a good time anyway; actually my team better _not_ be having a good fucking time or they are in serious trouble, and one of them was for the crow road as it was.

James Alouicious Cook was completely in his element; not only did he have lots of prospective clients to schmooze, but he had a stunning looking Effy on his arm to distract the old duffers he was trying to impress. I looked on as he spent fifteen minutes in conversation with a bald bloke and his wife; turning on his old world Southern Charm, all Yes Sir and No Ma'am. By the looks of things he could have been discussing the Soviet Economic Forecast For The Production Of Tractors _circa_ 1951 for all the attention his spiel was receiving; his target hadn't taken his eyes off Effy's cleavage the entire time, and the old duffers wife was practically unzipping Cook's trousers while they spoke.

_'Man this world is fucked up, posh people drive me mad.'_

I'd spent the last couple of hours keeping a low profile. I was aware that Miss Fitch was looking around for me, but I was totally focussed on doing my job; keeping her safe and making sure that this gathering of influential people in the arms world wasn't interrupted in any way.

I don't need to be over her shoulder to do that, not when she's safe at home anyway.

"Naomi!"

I turned at the familiar voice to see Bonnie approaching, I was pretty shocked to see her here, after all this _is_ a pretty exclusive event.

"Emily always gives me an invite to these things," she told me after I'd expressed my surprise. "I think she likes to see a friendly face here," she whispered, leaning in and giving me a great look down her more than impressive cleavage; her dress working overtime for her. Darren must be a dribbling mess if he's here.

"Right." I replied, only half listening as one of the security guards gave me an update from the back of the house.

"Talking of Emily you do know she's looking everywhere for you, I think she's a bit upset you're avoiding her."

"I'm not avoiding her," I said frowning, the lie coming easily to my lips, "I'm just busy that's all. Cook has made me responsible for all the security tonight and it's a pretty big deal."

"You might want to tell her that," Bonnie replied nodding over my shoulder. I turned to see the red head standing behind me, a look of thunder on her face.

"See you later Naomi, if you see Darren tell him I've gone to get some drinks."

I nodded my goodbye and flashed a weak smile at Miss Fitch.

"You look nice this evening Miss Fitch, that dress suits you."

'_Oh boy does it suit you!'_

"Fuck nice Naomi," she hissed at me, loud enough that only I could hear her. "Where the fuck have you been? You're supposed to be making sure I'm safe aren't you, not hiding from me. What's the matter, are you not interested in doing your job now dad's signed Cooks precious contract?"

I felt my hackles rise at the return of the bitch, just because she _thinks_ I'm hiding from her doesn't give her the right to accuse me of not doing my job. Even if she is right about the hiding.

"I _am_ doing my job Miss Fitch, in case you missed what I've just told Bonnie there Cook has placed the security responsibilities for this entire 'soirée on _my_ shoulders. So believe me when I tell you, I'm doing my level best to ensure not only your safety, but that of _all_ the people here, including the rest of your family."

She went to speak but I cut her off quickly with my hand, placing my other hand to my earpiece as Kevin's panicked voice came over the radio.

'_Miss Campbell, we've got a car approaching at high speed."_

I was already on the move, leaving a pissed off looking Miss Fitch behind me as I ran towards the control room barking orders as I went.

"Andy, get to the front door, make sure no-one tries to leave for the next couple of minutes….Simon, get your ass to the back door and do the same. Sit-rep in one minute, now _go_!"

I didn't need to tell either of them twice; along with Alan, the guard that had given me the tour last time I was here, those two seemed the brightest and best of the people the Fitch's had employed. Andy especially seemed to be perfectly capable; he was ex-Forces or ex-Plod by the looks of things and he was a natural leader. My confidence boosted by their calm responses, I burst into the control room to see the weakest link in my team, Kevin, staring at lights on his screen; panning the camera along the drive as the car approached, thundering across the gravel drive.

I sprinted along the corridor to the front of the building to get a better look, sliding to a stop at the massive front doors. I could see the headlights approaching through the glass as the vehicle made its erratic way toward us. It was a big vehicle as well, as the lights from the driveway picked it out in the dark it looked like a four by four, a big Range Rover from the brief glances I got. It didn't really matter what it was though, it was big, it was travelling and it didn't look like it was planning to stop.

"Naomi what the hell is going on, why did you just run away like that? I was _trying_ to talk to you."

As the lights grew ever brighter I spun around and grabbed Miss Fitch, shoving her hard across the room and against a wall; covering her with my body. I saw Andy dive for cover from his spot at the front doors and I braced myself for whatever was about to happen. I didn't have time to get Miss Fitch out of there, so the best I could do was put myself between whatever was going to happen and her soft skin; relying on the sturdy mansion walls to absorb the brunt of any explosion that may occur.

I clearly heard the crunch of gravel followed by a loud bang from outside, the sound of crushing metal and the blaring of a horn that quickly went silent. As I braced for impact I couldn't help but notice the irony; it was part of my hastily scribbled notes to Rob about his security that there wasn't even a gate on the main entrance. That there was a real danger that anyone could drive in like this; fucks sake, I'd even told him about it, told him how easy it was to attack his home with a car bomb. Well now we were going to pay the price for his neglect, I only hoped that the price wasn't going to be too high.

The seconds ticked by and a grand total of fuck all happened; there was not a sound, not even a whimper from outside. Carefully I opened my eyes and pushed myself away from Miss Fitch, who opened her own eyes and looked back at me in terror.

"Shhhh." I told her, "Stay here, stay down and don't move ok?"

She nodded and I tapped her on the arms, taking a second to tug at her dress strap where it had fallen down, seating it correctly on her shoulder. Moments later I'm peering around the doorway to see the Range Rover buried up to its engine in one of the stone pillars that flanked the grand entrance large gouges in the gravel behind it testament to the cars attempts to brake. Either this was the worst suicide bombing attempt in history, or it was something much less sinister.

Personally though, I don't take chances; just because it _hasn't_ blown up yet, doesn't mean it _won't_.

I stepped carefully out of the front doors and out towards the car, I'm understandably nervous about doing this, but it is, after all, why Cook pays me so much. At least I'd get a good funeral, my contract promised me that. As I stepped towards the driver's side door, it was flung open and a dark figure stepped out and onto the steps, reeling around like a drunk; as his hand reached out and aimed a device at the car I took swift action to prevent catastrophe. Lashing out with my left foot I kicked the hand, causing the box to go spinning onto the drive; one quick punch later and I'm sat on the back of the driver and holding his arms behind his back. Moments after that Andy has appeared to support me and has helped me pull him roughly to his feet.

"James you fucking twat, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

We looked up at the steps in shock to see Miss Fitch stepping carefully towards us, her red high heels looking positively hazardous to health as she teetered across the beige stone.

I lifted the face of the driver and squinted, Miss Fitch obviously knew him and he looked kind of familiar.

"Let him go Naomi, it's ok; it's just my stupid baby brother."

Ah, that's why I didn't recognise him, he wasn't wearing makeup. Miss Fitch walked right up to him and wrinkled her nose.

"Fucks sake James, what have I told you about drinking and fucking driving...are you fucking stupid or what?" she practically screamed at him, hitting him on the shoulders with her hands as she did so.

"Hello to you too, bitch, he slurred looking at her unsteadily, "how's my big sister doing these days. Haven't seen you in ages Ems, you big old dy.."

She slapped him hard about the face, I'm sure they could have heard the sound over the noise of the party; though as no-one has exactly come running at the sound of a car smashing into a pillar I suppose it's not exactly surprising that no-one has come running to see who has slapped whom.

"Naomi," Miss Fitch said, turning to me and dismissing her brother, "I need a favour. Could you help sort this mess out please? If Dad finds out what James' done this time he'll more than likely disinherit him, he hates being embarrassed by his moronic behaviour."

I'm not at all surprised, though what she wants me to do I can't imagine.

"Could you get rid of his car?" she asked nodding at the Rover, "if I get Andrew to take this lout to his room so he can sleep it off."

Surprised at being asked to be instrumental in a cover up like this I looked across at Andy who nodded calmly. My instincts were right about him, he's a good team player and will make a good team leader in my absence. I got on the radio and arranged for a car to come around to the front to take away the evidence; minutes later Simon arrived and we poured James Fitch into the back and Simon drove him to the side entrance where Andrew the butler was going to be waiting, apparently accustomed to such events.

Miss Fitch herself, had made her excuses and headed back into the party to 'distract her parents' while we worked; and I tried to drive the Rover out towards the back of the building, hoping to hide it in the small copse by the garage. It was tough going, he'd hit the pillar at a fair old lick and the steering was definitely shot; however it was at least serviceable, if in need of a lot of work, and within the space of ten minutes we were free and clear. It was as if Mr Fitch had never been here, apart from the large chip in the side of the impressive stonework. Range Rovers are built pretty tough.

With everything seemingly back to 'normal' I did a quick sweep of the grounds to make sure everything else was secure before heading back inside. I nodded at Miss Fitch's raised eyebrow from her position near her mother and was immediately trapped as she waved me over; her mother's eyes following her gesture, repeating it as soon as she saw me.

Somewhat reluctantly I made my way over to speak with them. It was Mrs Fitch that spoke first.

"Emily's just told me about James' arrival Naomi, that was quick thinking; thank you."

"Just doing my job Mrs Fitch."

"Naomi I've told you to call me Jenna," she chided; both her and Miss Fitch giving me a look.

"Mrs Fitch, this is your party and I'm working. I wouldn't dream of disrespecting you like that in front of your guests. One of the things that was drummed into me in the Close Protection Unit Ma'am, 'face' is everything."

She smiled indulgently at me as I spoke, glancing at a large clock on the side unit next to us. Before I knew it she had grabbed me by my right arm, taking her daughters left arm with her other, free, hand.

"Come on you two, I think Rob is preparing to deliver one of his little speeches and you both might want to hear it."

She led us through into the impressive main hallway where Miss Fitch had made her dramatic entrance hours before. Jenna was right, Rob was standing on the step level with Cook, overseeing his party and obviously waiting for the guest of honour to arrive. Seeing his wife and daughter he cleared his throat dramatically.

"Friends, Friends," he said, causing a polite silence to fall over the party. "As you know Jenna and I like to hold one of these shindigs every few months in aid of a good cause, and I hope all of you will be digging into those deep pockets and giving generously; because it's not as if you lot can't afford it now is it? Recession or no recession."

There was a ripple of polite, if forced, laughter at this comment, but I doubted that it was anything but the truth. Looking at these peacocks of industry; all feathers and bright displays I suspected that their pocket change this evening could keep me in luxury for a good few years.

"Anyway," Rob continued brightly, "tonight's cause ladies and gentlemen is in tribute to someone that is with us tonight. Someone that has recently come into contact with Family Fitch and has already made a huge impact. You all probably saw the news about how my baby girl, Emily, was attacked by terrorists on the way home from here a few days ago and if it wasn't for the actions of Sergeant Naomi Campbell of 'Close Protection' I'm sure I would be mourning the loss of someone very dear this evening, instead of celebrating with you all."

He raised his glass as I attempted to shuffle off into the shadows; Jenna's grip holding me firm.

"Ladies and gentlemen I give you the hero, or is that heroine, of the hour."

"The hero of the hour," the fancily dressed poppinjays chanted, as if they were in some kind of secret cult and Rob was their hooded leader. I caught Miss Fitch's eyes as she smiled, and mouthed the words "thank you" at the end of her toast.

"Now," Rob continued, "as you may have read; Sergeant Campbell is only with me now because she was injured on active service in Afghanistan, and the Army's loss is definitely my gain as I've been lucky enough to retain her services along with the excellent team at Close Protection led by my close friend James Cook here."

_'Close friend my arse.'_

"It saddens me that so many of our brave boys and girls, that serve on our behalf, get injured and have to return home and pick up the rest of their lives with little if any real support; yet there is a charity that does their best to help those brave men and women in their time of need. Ladies and gentlemen in honour of those troops and of Sergeant Campbell tonight's fundraiser is on behalf of 'Help for Heroes' and all the fine work that they do."

At his words a couple of members of staff rolled some banners over the side of the stairs, the soldiers and stretcher motif clearly visible.

"So dig deep my friends and let's do some good. I myself have placed a large donation into the pot already this evening on behalf of my family, I guess you could see it as a thank you, and an attempt at trying to buy us some more good luck."

Another round of laughs at that, though I doubt Miss Fitch finds it very funny, I know I don't.

"So, as well as good fortune in the real world this week ladies and gentlemen, my family was the beneficiary of good fortune in the business world as well, with my daughters managing to conclude a deal, they've been working on for many months now, with India's Border Security Force. I know it's been a long and hard negotiation, and I'm proud of them for what they've achieved. Ladies and gentlemen please raise your glasses for my lovely and talented daughters, Katie and Emily."

"Katie and Emily," everyone intoned, everyone except me and Miss Fitch. I didn't fail to notice the hurt in her eyes as her father gave credit for her hard work to her sister. I don't think Jenna missed it either and she was whispering quietly to Miss Fitch as Rob concluded his speech and walked down the stairs to handshakes and pats on the back from his cronies.

Within heartbeats he was stood in front of us and his best fake 'bright white' smile was plastered on his face.

"Naomi, good to see you, glad you're feeling better; James tells me you weren't that keen on our little helicopter flight."

"I'm fine Mr Fitch, I enjoyed it once I got over the initial fear. I'm a ground pounder, I don't think I was cut out for flying."

"Well I think you might need to get used to it a bit more Naomi, Emily here's got a busy schedule over the next few months, I hope your passport is up to date because you're going to have to tag along and keep her safe now it's all official."

"I'm sure everything will go smoothly from now on Mr Fitch."

"Rob," he admonished with a wink.

"It's no good Robert," Jenna interrupted, "she simply won't call us by our first names when she's 'on duty' will you dear? Naomi says it would be disrespectful and cause us to lose 'face' in front of our guests."

Rob beamed the first genuine smile of the evening as he looked at me, "see Naomi that's why I like you, the first time I met you I knew you had brains; you're as brave as hell, but it's the brains that get you places. You should tell that James Cook that he's not paying you enough, after all I've just made him a wealthy man today; pretty much all because of you."

"I've already told him Mr Fitch," I replied giving him a thin lipped smile.

"See," he laughed, nudging his wife, "what did I say? Brains. Right, well; if you'll excuse me Naomi I need a word with my daughter here, in private. Would you mind Emily?"

With one more fake smile he took Miss Fitch firmly by the arm and led her off towards his office. Mrs Fitch took a look at them and then let go of my arm, squeezing it slightly before setting off to follow them, her curiosity obviously ignited.

I'm curious too, Miss Fitch looked like she was stranded somewhere between angry and nervous at his words; and Jenna's squeeze on my arm seemed more significant than not. Remembering Darren's words of the other night I decided to allow my curiosity to overcome my good manners and I headed back to the control room by the main entrance.

"Take a break Kevin," I said as I burst through the door, catching him zooming in on Katie Fitch-Brace's cleavage, his sweaty hands pouring over the control desk.

"But.." he stammered 'accidentally' knocking the control stalk swinging the camera from its original target and onto the tight trousers and bulging crotch of Katie's, less than subtle, husband.

"Take a fucking break Kevin, or I swear I'll pop out there and tell my friend Katie _exactly_ what you were just doing."

He vanished from my sight with a speed that belied his immense size. Swiftly I closed the door after him and locked it; settling myself down in front of the bank of screens. As I suspected there _was_ a camera that was covering Rob's office and as I pulled it up onto the main viewer I saw him stamping around, Miss Fitch and her mother stood in front of his desk. I turned up the audio feed from the camera until I could hear what he was saying.

_"...embarrass me in front of my guests, who do you think you are Emily?"_

_"What the hell Daddy, so I've dyed my hair and put on a nice dress, how does that embarrass you?"_

_"Yes really Robert,"_ Jenna said her hands raised, _"It's not as if Emily hasn't dyed her hair before, after all in University she dyed it pink for heaven's sake."_

_"In University she wasn't working for me, she wasn't working for our bloody business. What the hell were you thinking girl? As if anyone is going to take you seriously looking like that."_

_"Daddy get a grip, the colour of my hair won't affect my ability to sell your weapons. People aren't interested in that, they're only interested in what I've got to say, what we've got to sell and how cheap we can make it."_

_"People expect professionalism in this business Emily Fitch, they expect people to behave a certain way, look a certain way. They do not expect the sales consultants of Fitch Industries to look like whores, let alone the Director of Sales."_

_"Robert!"_ Jenna snapped, _"You have gone too far this time, you take that back this instant."_

Rob snarled and looked away, muttering under his breath before turning to look at Miss Fitch once more.

_"You'll cost us business girl, mark my words. I won't stand for it."_

_"How will I cost us business Daddy,"_ she spat scornfully, _"_Katie_ does all the work doesn't she? _Katie_ gets all the fucking credit. _Katie_ can do fucking anything she fucking wants. Fucks sake Daddy she never even went _near_ the Indian deal and yet you stand up there giving her all the credit for my hard work. When does it end Daddy? When are you going to stop hating me?"_

She left the room with a sob and I tracked her on the cameras heading towards the back rooms and the kitchens. I listened absently as Jenna launched a scathing attack on Rob; from where I sat, a richly deserved one as well. Without a shadow of a doubt the man was a twat. I lost all respect for the man in that instant; he treated his entire family, apart from Katie, with contempt and derision. Everything was a front to him, his happy family, his giving his daughters credit for their work; even his support for Help for Heroes was a disgrace. The money he was handing over was probably made by selling the very weapons that killed and injured our troops.

Who knows? Fitch Industries probably sold the same AK-47 that put me in hospital, ended my career and very nearly ended my life.

Blood money it was, but perhaps it would do some good, if the charity would accept it; and besides it's not my place to comment. After all, Rob Fitch paid the bills now; and you can't let personal feelings get in the way of the job.

Still, it _was_ Miss Fitch I was being paid to look after, and it was her I was tracking on the network of security cameras as she met up with Darren and Bonnie and shared a bottle with them in a quiet room, far from the hubbub of the party. I sighed and decided it was time to get back to work, I'll protect her from anything I can, but I can't protect her from Rob Fitch, not directly anyway...Cook would have me back on the streets in a heartbeat if I ruined this deal for him, I just knew it.

Speaking of Cook, I caught a glimpse of him heading out into the gardens on one of the camera feeds and tracked him around, one eye on his monitor and one eye on Miss Fitch's. She was at least safe, even if it looked like she'd made it her life's ambition to drink as much alcohol as she could in the smallest amount of time, the bottle of, what looked like, champagne in her hand near vertical as she drank from it.

Cook's hands, however were very far from vertical as he dragged Effy into the bushes at the very end of the lit section of the garden and out of my sight. Obviously the words 'get a room' would be wasted on him, as they already had one. I made a note to get a few "Outdoorsman" cracks at him as payback for the middle names fiasco. I'm sure once I let them know I'd seen them in the garden they'd know what I meant. Perhaps it'll stop Effy giving me those little knowing looks every time she sees me.

Casually I moved the pan of the camera until it was as far back as possible so I could check that they were undisturbed by my team and I settled back to watch the monitors. I guess you could say I was spying, I preferred to think of it as having my boss's back.

As security jobs go it's not a bad one, sat watching the screens. It's warm up here and it's the first chance I've had in hours to put my feet up; all I need now is a warm drink and I'll be happy. No wonder Kevin likes his cushy little role, you can relax, put your feet up and spy on people without any chance of getting caught.

It's a hard life.

Ten or so minutes later a slightly sheepish looking Effy is climbing out of the bushes, pulling her dress down and adjusting her straps. Cook followed her out onto the lawn, straightening his jacket as he did so. I couldn't resist it and pressed send on the message I'd spent the last few minutes preparing.

In the camera's clear view, I saw Cook reach for his pocket and take out his phone, before looking around him wildly. Seconds later I saw Effy performing the same movements, they were very obviously looking for me, to see how I'd known what they were up to. Moments later my phone beeped away indicating a reply.

'_Very funny Naomikins, yes I know we have a room…but sometimes it's good to be dangerous, it gets the heart racing even faster; you should try it sometime!'_

I smiled at his message and the broad grin I'd just zoomed in on and sent him a one word reply.

'_Touché.'_

I watched as he read the message that appeared on his phone and tucked it away in his pocket. Slipping his arm around Effy he led her away from the bushes and back towards the house; and I set the camera back to automatic and reset the recorder.

There are some things that you don't want to have taped evidence of; your boss getting laid in the bushes at his latest clients house is probably one of them.

Making sure that everything was reset to the defaults I called on the radio for Kevin to get off his break, and made my way out into the main part of the house. The party was still ongoing and Rob and Jenna were playing the consummate hosts, all traces of their earlier argument nowhere to be seen; nothing more than the happily married, loving couple was on display. A master class in acting.

Also nowhere to be seen was Miss Fitch, almost conspicuous by her absence; that flame red hair no longer dancing between party goers as she mingled, stroking arms and stroking ego's as she had done earlier, when I was avoiding her.

Concerned, I got on the radio and called around the team; no-one had seen Miss Fitch since she left the party with her dad. In fact it seems that the last person to see her was me, on the cameras, and I can't admit to seeing that little episode. Casually I asked the team to let me know if they saw her, told Kevin to pay attention to something other than the guests cleavage and slipped away from the crowds, looking for her in the quiet side rooms.

Ten minutes of searching later and I'm none the wiser, not about Miss Fitch anyway. I'd bumped into Effy coming out of a bathroom, her hair now immaculate, showing no signs of her external adventure with the Cookiemonster.

"I'm looking for Miss Fitch," I'd told her at her questioning look.

"I'm sure you are," she replied with another one of those curious smirks.

"Have you seen her by any chance?" I asked, ignoring the challenge in her voice.

"Oh yeah, I dragged her into this very bathroom not five minutes ago to have my wicked way with her, she'll be out in a second she's just fixing her dress."

I glared at her, this really isn't the time to be taking the piss, if that's what she's doing.

"Interesting," she said, tilting her head. "I haven't seen Emily no, sorry."

"Fine, thanks anyway." I replied, already heading off towards the back of the house.

"Naomi," I heard her call from the doorway behind me. "I did see her in the kitchens before James and I took our stroll around the gardens; but that was a while ago as you know. She was looking for her PA and a bottle of something alcoholic if that's any help."

I nodded, waved my thanks and continued my way towards the back corner of the house; the kitchens were calm now, the main part of the party over. The only movements now were the caterers cleaning down under the watchful eye of the Fitch's personal chef, and the waiters running back and forth to the wine cellars bringing up bottles of booze for the captains of industry above to quaff with their cigars and their endless talking.

Making my way out back I found Bonnie and Darren both sat smoking a cigarette under one of the large patio heaters that were discretely placed on the large stone flags.

"Evening Miss Campbell," Darren greeted me with a cheery wave, "How's things treating you?"

"Fair to middling Darren, nice to see you again." I grinned at Bonnie who had smiled her hellos again. "Have either of you two seen Miss Fitch, she seems to have vanished from the party and out of my sight. I don't like that."

"She had a bit of a row with her father again," Bonnie said, her voice soft and sad sounding. "I think she just wanted some place to get drunk and steer clear of everyone."

"Well it's my job to keep an eye on her; she wasn't supposed to leave the house without me."

"She's gone down to the summerhouse Miss Campbell, right at the bottom of the garden, down there."

She pointed to a dark structure at the bottom of the garden, far from the lights that lit up the house.

"Emily told me that she liked to go there when she was upset as a kid," Bonnie told me earnestly, "I think she still does, she did say it was her 'place'."

"Right, thanks Bonnie; I'll go and check on her then, you know…put my mind at rest. You guys enjoy the party; Darren, don't cause any trouble my guys will have to slap you for."

"I'm on my best behaviour Naomi," he replied with a broad smile. "For starters Bon' here would kill me if I got hammered and made a fool of her, and secondly you said you'll try and rescue me from the evil clutches of Mrs Fitch-Brace so I _have_ to be good don't I?"

"Not to impress me you don't mate," I told him getting a warm smile from his fiancée; "I'm already convinced. Anyway, you guys have fun I'll see you later."

I walked away from them and out onto the perfectly cropped grass; glad, and not for the first time this evening, that I wasn't wearing high heels. As I walked along the garden I radioed Andy and told him to take charge of things whilst I hunted down the errant Fitch.

o+o+o

The summerhouse was old but well looked after and in very good condition. After my eyes got accustomed to the dim light at this end of the garden I could make out the windows and their blinds; as I peered in through the doors I could make out that there was a dim light inside, like a torch or a candle, and gently I tried the doors. They were clearly locked from the inside.

I knocked on the door, softly at first and then, as the silence continued, rather more firmly.

"Go away." A slurred voice from inside the building called out. "I don't want to see anyone."

"Miss Fitch, is that you?"

"Go _away_! I'm not in the mood to 'chat' tonight."

"Miss Fitch, it's me Naomi Campbell, if you don't open up I'm going to kick the doors in."

I paused for a second before rattling the handles and trying to force the doors.

"Fuck off Naomi, I want to be left alone."

"Miss Fitch, please open the door," I rattled to doors again, seriously getting worried about her. She's had a rough time the last few days and after this morning's personal high, to be rejected by her dad like that must have been a kicker. I was cursing myself for my inattention when I heard a faint click on the other side of the door.

"Miss Fitch?"

I tried the door once more and this time it swung open without any resistance. I stepped into the dusty smelling building and closed the door behind me, flicking over the latch as I did so. If Miss Fitch wanted a bit of privacy I'll happily supply it, once I know she's ok.

My eyes slowly adjusted to the dark and looking around I finally found her; she was sat, slumped in an old leather chair in the far corner of the building, a bottle of brandy in her hand and a small candle stub burning dimly on the small table to her side.

"You don't take no for an answer do you Miss Campbell?"

"Not when it comes to your safety Miss Fitch, no. You vanished from the party Miss Fitch and that makes me nervous, I've been looking for you for the last twenty minutes. Are you all right?"

"Oh I'm just fucking dandy, Daddy tells the world what an excellent daughter Katie is, and gives her all the credit for a multi-million pound deal I've been working on for six fucking months."

She took a long swig from the brandy bottle she was cradling and winced as the hard liquor hit her throat.

"Then, the only thing he's got to say to me is that I look like a whore because I dyed my fucking hair."

I didn't have anything to say to that, I wanted to tell her she was wrong, that Rob was a prick for even thinking it, let alone saying it. I couldn't do it though, couldn't make the words come out. Instead I just stared at her and waited for her to continue.

"This is supposed to be _my_ fucking party, it's supposed to be celebrating _my_ big deal and instead fucking Katie's getting all the fucking plaudits again, and I'm sitting here alone in the dark, crying like a loser."

"You're not a loser Miss Fitch."

"What the fuck would you know Naomi? You hardly know me at all."

"I know you well enough to know you're not a loser Miss Fitch, losers don't win deals like you did yesterday. Losers don't behave like you do."

I walked across to the other chair in the room, a small three legged stool and dusted it off; pulling it closer to her.

"My dad's a shit," she announced, taking another drink and looking at the floor; through the light of the candle, I can see her tears falling into the dust at her feet.

"I never knew my dad," I told her, not really knowing why. "But mum said he was a shitty little prick. Perhaps all dads are shits," I concluded firmly.

"Yeah," she said sadly, before her head snapped up to look at me. "I do love him though, I really do; I just wish he didn't hate me so much. He tells me his secrets, he confides in me; but he's never got _time_ for me you know? He just never _appreciates_ me for who I am or what I do. It's always Katie; perfect fucking Katie with her perfect fucking husband and her perfect fucking marriage"

"I'm not sure about perfect," I replied, scoffing at her words, "her husband is so empty headed I swear I could hear the echo when he spoke to me."

That brought about a brief, but welcome, laugh to interrupt the tears; but all too soon she was crying again. Miss Fitch was obviously a maudlin drunk.

"It's not fair Naomi," she said; not elaborating on what was fair. Her dad's treatment of her; her dad's treatment of Katie or both. I leaned across and awkwardly patted her on the back, my inability to deal with people's emotions coming to the fore once again. To my surprise she leaned into me and wrapped her arms around my back, resting her head on my shoulder; her whole body shaking as her sobs echoed around the room.

I let her cry, trusting myself to do nothing but wrap my arms around her; trying not to notice how nice she smelled and how good she felt in my arms. Her hands were clutching at my back as she cried herself out and I stifled the occasional cry of pain as her nails found bare skin and dug themselves in. Finally, after about ten minutes she sniffed and gave me a squeeze.

"Thanks Naomi."

"For what?"

"For being here, for not giving up on me. I know I'm fucking pathetic, it's just that it all gets me down sometimes. I try so hard to make dad proud of me and it pisses me off when he treats me like shit."

"You shouldn't let it get to you Miss Fitch. As long as you know what you do, what does it matter?"

"It matters because I _only_ do this for him Naomi, I fucking hate this job; I hate the fact that I'm selling things that go on to hurt people. It's not what I wanted to do with my life."

I watched as a tear ran down her cheek again, a tear that was blinked away and erased with the flick of a hand. A tear that seemed to fall for her this time, and for no one else. She sat for a while, silently drinking from the brandy bottle as I waited to see what she would say next.

"This is what I wanted to do," she shouted finally, gesturing around the summerhouse. I couldn't make out what she was on about, the gloom was too much; the candle barely lighting the area around our chairs.

"I wanted to be creative, to write, to paint, to dance; anything really. I wanted to do _anything_ but sell fucking guns, I hate fucking guns. I never wanted to join the family business, I just sort of got suckered in and here I am, selling weapons to people I just fucking _know_ are going to pass them on illegally. Handing them over to criminals and terrorists, people who want to do nothing but hurt others, just because they can; and do you know what? There's not a fucking thing I can do about it except feel shit and mouth off at people who don't deserve it because I feel guilty."

She fell into a hard silence again, still drinking from the bottle, getting more and more inebriated with each mouthful. I wanted to stop her, turn her from her path of self destruction, but still I sat there doing nothing, it wasn't my place to judge; if she needed to get pissed then that's what she should do...I'd just have to be there to pick up the pieces.

Finally, she stood up from the chair, swaying unsteadily on her feet as she tried to lift the bottle of brandy to her lips again, spilling most of it onto the floor. Instinctively I reached out an arm to steady her and stop her falling; and she held out the bottle to me.

"Have a drink with me Naomi."

"I don't drink anymore Miss Fitch, remember? I gave up drinking when I was on the streets."

"Oh, right…sorry..." she said, dropping the bottle to the floor where it lay spilling out its contents onto the dusty wooden planks, staining them black in the faint light. "I...I totally forgot."

"It's ok Miss Fitch, it doesn't matter. How are you feeling?"

"I'm a bit pissed Naomi, if you must know. In fact I think I'm fairly close to being totally and utterly wasted that's how I'm feeling. I think I need to sit down here and sleep it off…in fact, I think that's what I'll do."

With a lurch she collapsed back into the chair in a heap, her arm flopped over the side of the chair, her eyes closed.

I looked down at her sprawled figure, smiling involuntarily; she looked so vulnerable sitting there, in her posh frock and her high heels, like a child in an adult world. Yet she also looked fucking beautiful, like a real lady; a real sleeping beauty. Stepping away so I wouldn't disturb her, I slipped my earpiece back into my ear and called in. Quietly I spoke to Andy who seemed to be doing an excellent job, I explained that Miss Fitch had drunk a little too much and we needed to be ready to get her into the house without anyone seeing her. Andy had a plan in place in moments and had asked Simon to let me know when the back of the house was quiet, so I could bring Miss Fitch back to the house without anyone seeing her in the state she was in. Discretion arranged, all part of the service, I turned back to see Miss Fitch still slumped in the chair, head now bowed worryingly.

"Miss Fitch," I called to her, getting no response. "Miss Fitch!" I called out slightly louder, making my way back to her in three quick strides.

My heart was pounding in my chest as I approached her still figure; "_Miss Fitch," _I shouted shaking her roughly by the shoulder, "Jesus, Emily wake the fuck _up."_

OK, so I'm panicking a little, there's nothing in my military training about drunken debutantes collapsing in front of me and falling into coma's. Gunshots, sucking chest wounds and head injuries yes; but drunken coma's? I've not seen any of them before, not even in Germany and I'd seen some seriously drunken squaddies when I was stationed over there.

"Come on, wake up Emily," I said again, shaking her once more and lifting her chin to check her breathing. I was about to get on the radio for someone to call an ambulance when I saw a faint smile cross her lips.

"Do you know, that's the first time you've ever called me that?" she slurred finally opening her eyes.

"Called you what?" I asked, bathing in the relief that she was in fact still with me and didn't need medical assistance.

"Called me Emily; it's nice, like you."

'_Shit'_

"I did nothing of the kind," I lied, "I think you're a bit drunk Miss Fitch, you're obviously imagining things."

"You did too," she giggled, stickling her tongue out at me childishly. "I was there, sort of anyway...it was nice. About time too, I've been trying to get you to relax around me for ages and ages now."

"Miss Fitch we've barely known each other for three days, I hardly think that qualifies as ages."

"Ages and ages and ages..." she sang out, getting up from the chair, her second wind obviously in effect. "I want to dance Naomi, I never get to dance at these parties, no-one ever wants to dance with me...

...dance with me Naomi Campbell, that's an order."

"I think someone's definitely had too much to drink," I told her, folding my arms and ignoring her 'order' as she pranced around in front of me.

"Funsponge."

"I beg your pardon?"

"You're a funsponge Naomi, come on! Live a little, there's no one here and you're a long time dead remember?"

I fell back on the usual, 'that wouldn't be appropriate' argument; standing very still and watching her as she moved around, surprisingly gracefully considering a few moments ago she could barely stand up straight; she's really trying to be lively here, though I'm sure she's about ready to collapse again.

"Fuck appropriate Naomi," she yelled into the rafters, "I'm a little bit drunk and I want to have fun at my party, and if I've got to do that hiding away down here with you, then that's what I'll do."

She wrapped her arms around my neck and started swaying, trying to pull me into her drunken dance; finally smiling when I put my hands on her hips.

"That's more like it," she grinned stupidly, before pouting as I used those hands to push her firmly away; ignoring the animal part of my brain that was screaming at me in displeasure.

"I think you should go back to the party if you want to dance Miss Fitch." I said, my rational brain finally conquering the animal into silence. "I'm sure there will be someone there that would want to dance with you."

She sighed and slumped back into her chair, fumbling around for her bottle; finally giving it up as a lost cause she sat back in the cracked red leather and looked up at me, her eyes looking tired.

"I don't know why I agree to come to these things, I always seem to end up out here."

I grasped my hands loosely behind my back and waited, half listening to the security team that were talking in my ear.

"This is my special place you know, no one ever comes in here, well mum does sometimes; but Dad and Katie never did. Katie said she wouldn't be seen dead in a rundown shed...I like it here though, it's got character..."

I panicked slightly as her waving arm came far too close to the stuttering candle, and leaned across to pick it up; using it's meagre light to look round the building. It was obviously old and worn, but very well cared for and Miss Fitch was right, it had bags of character; from what I could see in the light from the tiny candle the walls were covered in canvases, images I couldn't make out clearly in the gloom. Miss Fitch said she came here to be creative, from the amount of stuff in here, she'd been very creative indeed.

Walking back towards her, I heard the faint sound of a snore. I held the candle close to her face and sure enough the eyes were closed and the mouth was half open, the effects of alcohol, dancing and emotional outbursts finally taking effect on her tiny frame.

"Miss Fitch, Emily...you can't sleep here. Come on let's get you up to bed."

She woke at my touch and looked at me, blinking slowly as she fought the drunken fuzziness in her head...I recognised the signs, I'd been there so many times myself.

"Bit forward Miss Campbell," she slurred, tiredness and drunkenness conspiring to make her words almost unintelligible. "Like you said, we barely know each other and now you're trying to get me into bed."

"Very funny Miss Fitch," I replied, stifling a grin. "But I really do think it's time you turned in now yes? Then I can go to bed and relax, knowing that you're safe and sound in the house."

"Naomi?"

"Yes Miss Fitch?"

"Will you _please_ call me Emily, you call everyone else in my family by their first name. Even if you only do it in private so I don't lose 'face'; I hate being called Miss Fitch Naomi, it's like being at work and I hate that too."

For this one night I decide to give in, for this one moment I think it's easier to accede to her request than it is to argue about it. She's practically dead on her drunken feet and I really need to get her upstairs and into her room before anyone else sees her making a fool of herself. We've got enough issues with the arrival of her pissed up cretin of a brother. Besides, when she wakes up, with what is likely to be a _monumental_ hangover in the morning, I doubt she'll remember anything of tonight; anything at all.

"I'll take it under advisement Miss Fitch," I told her, getting a drunk grin in response. "But _only_ ever in private and _only_ if you go back to your room and you sleep this off, ok?"

"Ok Naomi, that's a deal. See? You can be nice when you want to be, when you're not acting like a stuck up prick."

"Yeah, you're not so bad yourself Miss Fitch...sorry," I corrected myself at her pout, "you're not so bad yourself, Emily, when you're not acting like a total bitch."

_'She really does pout beautifully though' _I thought, my rational brain betraying me once again.

"Touché," she said with a wave of a hand, "Right, I think I'm going to head to bed, I'm feeling a bit...you know?"

I nodded at her waving hand, the one that illustrated unequivocally that she wasn't feeling too great, and smiled.

"I've already asked Simon on the back door to call that Andrew bloke of yours." I told her, snuffing out the candle, stranding us in the darkness. "I'll radio Simon now and have him waiting for you. He'll help you in discretely; I'll close up here if you'd like, keep your place secure. Then if you need any help, I'll make sure you get in safely, is that a deal?"

She nodded, those big brown eyes staring back into mine, her expression unfathomable.

"Right then, off you go. Goodnight Emily."

She smiled, my eyes picking out the movement of her lips even in the darkness. "Thank you Naomi," she said simply, "thank you for everything. Goodnight."

To my surprise she pressed her lips to my cheek, giving me a slightly drunken kiss goodnight, before pulling back and looking me straight in the eyes once more; I found myself drowning in those dark brown pools I could barely make out, my sensible, professional, rational mind going AWOL once again. With a deep breath and a slight sniff she nodded to herself and shocked the shit out of me by leaning forward, throwing her arms around my neck and kissing me right on the lips.

Not a friendly kiss, not a chaste kiss; but a proper, full on, passionate kiss, her hands wrapped in my hair preventing me from escaping her grip.

Miss Fitch is kissing me. Here, in the darkness of the summerhouse at the bottom their garden. She's kissing _me_ during a family party that I'm _supposed_ to be looking after.

Emily Victoria Fitch is kissing _me_...

...and for some stupid messed up reason, I'm kissing her back.


	21. Beating Retreat

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent and a distinct lack of awesomeness! Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which still makes me very upset but not as much as before).

**Authors Note **– Er wow. I mean seriously guys, I know it's been like 5 months since this started and we've not covered a lot of ground yet, time wise, but bloody hell; it was _only_ a drunken kiss, it's not like they got married or anything.

Just one thing before I get started, thank you to all of you that reviewed making my day last week, (glad something did – tough week) and thanks for the well wishes, I'm still feeling pretty crappy, but I'm breathing which is always a good thing.

Anyway, enjoy this little chapter, and let's see what happened after that kiss (-:

**Chapter 21 - Beating Retreat**

I was drowning. Drowning and more than drowning as Emily forced her lips onto mine; fingers tightly wrapped in my hair, pulling down my head preventing my escape. I tried to fight my way to the surface, but each time I reached that level of awareness I slipped further down; wrapping my hands into that beautiful red hair as our tongues met, pulling her into me. Despite that desperate will to fight and survive I nearly, so very nearly, gave myself utterly to that one beautiful moment of passion; surrendered myself to the depths, drowned myself in Emily Fitch.

_'This is not good, Naomi, this is not smart at all.'_

The thought ran through my rational mind as Emily's lips pressed once more against mine; no, that's not quite right. It ran through my mind as _we_ pressed our lips together. This isn't down to her, this is my mistake as well. Finally accepting the truth, finally realising the gravity of my error I placed my hands firmly on her hips once more and gently moved her away. Pulling back from the kiss before we took it any further, before I fell any deeper into that black abyss.

"Naomi," I heard her say, a hint of hurt and confusion in her voice as she tried to step back into that embrace, tried to kiss me once again. I held her hips even tighter, and locked my arms, holding her at bay, saving myself. Despite the gloom in this cool lonely summerhouse, I saw her eyes open and stare up at me, almost causing me to break once more.

"Say something," she said finally, shattering the silence with that beautiful voice.

"I think it's time you went back inside Emily. We'll talk about this in the morning."

_'If you remember anything,'_ I thought as she lowered her head, hid her eyes from me and nodded. I opened the door for her and watched her leave, not a word passing between us as she did so. Frankly I was glad, my heart was still beating ten to the dozen, trying to signal the advance; yet I was forcing it to beat the retreat. I'm not sure I've ever made such a sacrifice in my life to date, giving up that brief moment of real passion. I can still smell her perfume in the air and I can still taste her lipstick on my own lips.

This is fucked up, this is totally, _totally_, fucked up. So much for professional distance.

I tried to pull my head together as I closed the door behind me, throwing the bolts top and bottom, clicking the padlock back into place and removing the key. By the time I'd turned back towards the house, Emily was out of sight, probably already inside and no doubt being ushered towards her room by their servant Andrew. I felt a slight pang of loss as I realised I was on my own, but pushed it down hard, shoving it into that locked room in my mind where I never, ever went.

I stood on the summerhouse's little wooden porch and took a deep breath, holding it for a second, I steadied myself before clicking the switch in my hand; opening my mic' to the rest of the team.

"Ok Ladies," I said with as much command in my voice as I could muster, "give me a sitrep."

_"All quiet Miss Campbell,"_ Andy's voice came over the earpiece. _"Simon just reported that Miss Fitch has been taken up to bed, James Fitch and Mr and Mrs Fitch-Brace are tucked up already and Mr and Mrs Fitch are currently saying goodbye to the remainders of their guests."_

"What, the party's over already?" I asked incredulously glancing at my watch.

_"Sure is Miss Campbell, these things don't usually go on all night, some of these folks are getting on a bit."_

I snorted in amusement; he's right, some of those folks looked like they would have trouble getting out of bed in the morning, let alone manage to stay up late. Still, old age comes to us all, if we're lucky that is; though the alternative holds no merits.

"Anything else I should know?"

_"Mrs Fitch was looking for you Miss Campbell, as was Mr Cook."_

"What did you tell them?"

_"Told them you were investigating a disturbance in the garden Miss Campbell, told them I'd call it in and you'd find them when you weren't as busy."_

I breathed a sigh of relief, thanked him for his forethought , signed off and headed back into the house, taking the opportunity to do a quick patrol of the outside of the building as I did so. Light blazed out of many of the windows of the huge house, making my movements easy; it did annoy me a little though, the place was an environmental disaster area and I'd _hate_ to have their electricity bill.

Still I guess when you're as rich as the Fitch's were, paying your electricity bill is the least of your worries.

Trying to avoid the front of the house if the guests were leaving, I ducked in through one of the side entrances and found myself in a long corridor, opulently decorated with doors to the left and right. I wasn't sure where in the building I was and so I moved quietly and carefully, trying not to disturb anyone that might be around. I could distinctly hear the sounds of snoring from one room and the unmistakable sound of fucking from the other.

Someone, was having a pretty good time.

"Oh god yeah, like that Katie, don't stop, don't you fucking _dare_ stop...yeah baby just fucking like that!" a voice cried out from behind one of the large oak doors as I passed by.

"Yeah, you like that don't you Gazza baby?"

"Hell yeah, don't stop Katiekins, don't fucking stop...Fuck yeah...Just. Like. That! Oh God!... quick, grab my balls Katiekins grab my fucking _balls_."

I walked away as quickly as my feet would carry me, my mind boggling. There are many things in life that I have decided shouldn't be overheard, and I think Gareth and Katie Fitch-Brace getting their end away is one I really need to add to my list.

Fucking hell, I think I might just need to shower...probably with bleach, and a wire brush!

o+o+o

Thankfully the rest of my patrol of the interior of the house was uneventful. Pretty much all of the extra staff, and most of the guests had already left; and things had definitely quietened down. I found Cook and Effy sat at a table in a side room by the kitchens, a half empty bottle of wine and the remains of what looked like a small gateaux in front of them.

"Well hey, look who it is," Cook drawled with a smile on his face as I entered the room, "it's my very own spy in the sky."

He kicked out a chair from under the table and gestured towards it, "take a seat Naomi, looks like you could do with the rest."

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked suspiciously.

"Nothing, but you do look shattered Naomi, long night?"

"Eventful, by the looks of things," Effy said, leaning forward in her chair and staring at me. "I see you found Emily then Naomi, or did she find you?"

I sat down in the proffered chair and stared back at her, holding my best poker face, not giving anything away.

"I found her in the garden actually, she was a little upset, had a bit of a disagreement with her father; nothing to worry about though. When I found her she was just a little drunk, so I arranged for the staff to put her to bed."

"I assume she'll be terribly disappointed."

I frowned at her and she smiled back at me, that fucking knowing smile again, the one I want to slap straight off her face.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You have lipstick on your cheek Naomi," she said, that smile turning into a full blown grin as I lifted my hand to my cheek to scrub away any marks.

"_Your_ lipstick is pretty smudged as well," she continued. "Just saying, because you'd probably want to fix that before you see the Fitch's again."

"Well well Naomi," Cook laughed at my now frantic movements, "looks like someone else was having a little tryst in the gardens eh Eff."

"It wasn't like that," I said trying to defend myself at their matching smirks. "She was just pissed up and upset, I let her rant for a while, she had a bit of a cry and then she kissed me goodnight that's all."

"Must have been a good kiss goodnight to have smeared your lipstick like that Naomikins," Cook said as Effy passed over a little compact mirror. I flicked it open and took a look at myself reflected in the tiny oval of glass. He was right, I did look a mess, I'd pretty successfully removed the lipstick on my cheek, if it was ever there, but my own was looking a real mess; smudged and smeared, a legacy of something I'd be better off pretending never happened.

"She's just a bit confused Cook, that's all. She's just a bit emotional still with everything that's happened over the last few days. You know how that goes, we've all seen it; I'll sort it out."

"Is that what you think Naomi? It's just a bit of confusion," Effy said reaching into her bag and handing me a pack of cleansing wipes. I took one and nodded, using it to clean off my lipstick and wipe down my cheek.

"I was right then, not very clever. I'm off to bed Cookie, see you in a bit yeah?"

"Sure thing little darling, I'll be right up."

"I certainly hope so," she said, leaving little to the imagination with the tone of her voice. "Good night Naomi, sweet dreams."

I watched her leave before sighing and turning back to Cook. He was sat, leaning back in his chair one eyebrow raised.

"So Naomi, what did happen with young Emily then?"

"Don't Cook, really; just don't. I'll sort it ok, it was a stupid drunken mistake. We'll talk about it tomorrow and put it behind us."

"You sure Naomi?"

"I'm positive Cook, it was stupid and unprofessional and it won't happen again."

"How is it unprofessional Naomi if she kissed you?"

His lips twisted as he said it, knowing he'd caught me; his face breaking into that trademark cheeky grin, the one I suspected drove the girls crazy at whatever school or college he'd gone to in his youth. It didn't drive me crazy though, not in the same way at least. I stared back at him for a second before putting my fingers to my forehead and brushing my hair back, the closest I could come to holding my head in my hands without actually doing it.

"Right, I get it. Can't say I blame you Naomikins, she's a right little stunner is young Emily, especially with that new hairdo."

I looked up at him in surprise; this wasn't what I was expecting at all. I was expecting a bollocking, a dressing down so hard my teeth would shake. Instead he's still grinning at me.

"What, you think I'm going to bawl you out for it, sack you perhaps? Fuck no Naomi. Look, Effy's right, Emily likes you; that's pretty obvious, even to an insensitive idiot like me. Now whether it's just rescuers syndrome like you think, or something else entirely I don't know; but it _is_ there and you're going to _have_ to deal with it. I guess the question I should be asking you is do _you_ like _her_?"

"I don't know Cook, I mean she is pretty, pretty hot as well; but she's also been a fucking bitch for most of the time I've known her and, let's face it, that's not been very long. Less than a week in fact."

"Answer the question Naomi, it's a simple yes or no; do you like her or not?"

"Yes, ok...I like her. Gods help me I like her. I'm attracted to her, of course I am; so fucking _what_? It's not like it's going to go anywhere is it. Fucks sake Cookie I _work_ for her now, all I can ever be is her CPO; I told you, friendly without being friends, she's just a package it _can't_ go any further."

"But she's not just a package at the moment, is she Naomi? and this isn't about just being friendly is it? Right now Naomi you have to decide something, you have to decide if you're going to be a stuck up tight arsed soldier, or are you going to give yourself a chance to see where it goes. Maybe even see where _Emily_ wants to take it. You know you're probably right, it might have been the drink, or her mental state, or it might have been something else, but if you don't give it a chance how will you ever know?"

He stood up from his chair and placed a hand on my shoulder, drumming his fingers against my back, absently tabbing out a beat.

"Perhaps I'm not the best person to give you advice Naomi, but all I can say is I had the same choice to make, in pretty similar circumstances, not too long ago; and I went with my gut instinct. Turns out, it was the best decision I ever made. Now if you'll excuse me, my gut instinct is telling me that _my_ ex-package is waiting for me up in our room; and believe me, my Effy doesn't like to be kept waiting."

He patted my shoulder, just once, before leaving me alone with my thoughts.

o+o+o

An hour or so later I was on my way up to the control room, my mind still churning through the events of the day, when I was surprised by Mrs Fitch who was backing out of a side room carrying a tray laden with miniature bottles of booze.

"Good evening Jenna, can I give you a hand with that?"

She jumped in surprise and nearly dropped the contents of the tray onto the floor.

"Jesus Naomi dear, you almost scared me half to death. What are you doing up and about at this time of night? Shouldn't you be in bed like everyone else?"

"Sorry," I said contritely, "I'm just heading up to the control room to check things out before turning in. Make sure everyone's gone that should have and that everything's locked down for the night. I'm really sorry if I startled you Jenna, it was pretty stupid of me."

"That's all right dear, it's nice to see you so focused on keeping us all safe. I was looking for you earlier but Andy told me you were busy elsewhere."

"It's been a busy night Jenna, lots to keep an eye on."

She looked at me strangely and put the tray down on a convenient side table, pulling me into the room and closing the door; I can't help but feel worried, like a prisoner dragged from their cell in the middle of the night.

"I wanted a word with you Naomi, about Emily."

"Oh?" I asked, trying not to sound guilty in any way, my heart pounding in my chest.

"Yes, she's quite emotional sometimes, I know she doesn't like to show it normally. Well," she said awkwardly, "unless she's being nasty to people that is, she can be a proper madam at times." She tailed off, her eyes distant.

"Anyway," she said eyes snapping back into focus with mine; "what I wanted to say was, she seems to like you and I know she's a little upset at the moment. Nothing bad, you understand, just a little family disagreement. Anyway, I was wondering if you would keep an eye out for her, make sure she's ok; I haven't seen her all evening and I'm a little bit worried."

"There's really no need to be worried Jenna, Miss Fitch is currently safely tucked up in bed; at least that's where I've been told she is," I informed her, watching the relief drain into her face but still feeling that there's more to this conversation.

"Miss Fitch got a little drunk earlier on and went AWOL, so I made it my business to track her down. Turns out she went out into the gardens to be alone. When I found her she was pretty upset, but she's fine now."

"Oh thank heavens for that, I'm _so_ glad you joined us Naomi, I just know you'll be good for my Emily. She's not the happiest person in the world and she doesn't make friends easily, but I feel good knowing you'll be watching over her. You will do that for me won't you Naomi? Watch over her? Stay close to her and make sure she's safe and happy. I don't get the chance to do that anymore, not since she moved away."

The sound of regret in her voice was palpable, this was a mother that cared, a mother that wanted nothing more than to know her daughter was safe and happy. She reminded me a lot of my own. I don't do friends, don't have any friends any more, but I do like Jenna Fitch, she's a lovely lady; a true aristocrat, if not by birth then by nature.

"I'll do my very best Jenna," I promised her faithfully before reverting to type, "after all, that's what Cook pays me for."

It felt strange, the same old lines passing my lips; the same lips that not two hours before had been kissing her daughter. Jenna smiled at me, a warm encompassing smile that actually made me feel good.

"Well dear, I shall be able to retire to bed tonight in peace then, knowing that you're on the job. Would you do me a quick favour though Naomi, before you go to bed. Would you mind popping your head into Emily's room as you turn in; I know Emily asked Rob to make sure that you had Katie's old room so she'd feel safer with you close at hand. Would you mind Naomi, make sure she's ok? Make a guilty mother feel a little bit better."

I nodded mutely, venturing into the lion's den wasn't my primary plan for the night; still, hopefully Emily would be fast asleep and I'd escape unscathed.

"Lovely, thank you Naomi. I hope we get a chance to do some more shooting tomorrow, you really were an _excellent_ teacher; good night my dear."

"Good night Jenna," I said as she left the room. I heard the faint rattling of glass as the tray full of bottles made its way down the corridor and breathed a sigh of relief. I'd been expecting a lot worse, I had the feeling that guilt had been tattooed across my face and I was thoroughly expecting to be hung for my crimes. After all, despite their politeness, the Fitch's weren't the most progressively thinking family in the world, my file on their behaviour towards their cross-dressing son told me that. It must be hard enough for Rob and Jenna to have me working for them; I dread to think what would happen if they believed that I was corrupting their daughter.

I slipped out of the side room and back down the corridor, following my original plan to enter the control room. All was quiet when I got there, the room was dark; Kevin long since fucked off home leaving the systems on automatic, the recording lights flickering away as the cameras cycled through their views of the house and its interior. I sat in the large comfortable seat and idly flicked through the different camera feeds on the main monitor before hitting the PTT button on my comms kit.

"Andy, you still out there?"

_"Where else would I be Miss Campbell?"_

"Good lad, anyone still out there with you?"

_"Yeah, Simon's still here, I've sent everyone else home. We're just checking the outside of the building before heading off ourselves. Andrew is getting ready to set the house alarm as soon as we're done."_

"Nice work, thank you both; you guys did a stellar job tonight. I hope neither of you are planning on going anywhere, I need a good team to run this place and I think I may have found it."

_"Well I'm not planning on leaving Miss Campbell, not after flattery like that"_ Andy's voice sounded pleased over the earpiece.

_"Nor me Miss Campbell, not unless you plan to kick me out."_

"Are you kidding me Simon," I asked jokingly, "If I have my way you're both getting a pay raise. I need competent trustworthy people to watch Fitch manor. Oh and quit the Miss Campbell shit boys, the rest of the team either calls me Sarge, or plain old Naomi; I don't really mind, whatever you're more comfortable with."

Ok so it's a lie, I'd much prefer to be called Sarge again even though I know that I've got absolutely no claim on that rank anymore; but it really did feel good being called it by JJ, it's like a link to my past, a past that I'm still mourning the loss of.

_"Ok Sarge."_

_"Sure thing Sarge."_

They replied almost in sync. I couldn't help grinning as I pressed the button once more. "Great guys, now if you're done, will you both fuck off home and get some sleep. I'll see you both tomorrow afternoon before I leave ok? We'll have a quick team meeting, I need your opinions on how we're going to set up here to keep this place safe; you know, sort out the details of who's staying and who's going."

_"Sarge, quick question; are you going to get rid of Kevin?"_

"Why's that Simon, do you have a problem with him?"

_"Kevin's his brother-in-law Sarge,"_ Andy's voice interjected,_ "Simon got him the gig here a few months ago, poor boy feels a bit responsible for him."_

I pondered this for a second, firing the useless wanker might cause me difficulties in keeping Simon. It was a tough call, Simon was good, he was solid and dependable. Kevin was the total opposite, an irresponsible, incompetent idiot who couldn't be trusted to defend the Fitch's if push came to shove.

I wanted to keep one and lose the other, but would I lose both if I pushed the matter or would I have to give up my principles and keep on the idiot, in order to keep hold of the genuine article?

Mentally I shrugged to myself and decided to test the waters; after all, you don't get paid the big bucks for only making the easy decisions.

"Would it be a problem if I _was_ considering getting rid of him Simon?"

I left the question hanging, waiting to see what he would say. He left the question floating out there for a while as well, building up the tension before there was a click on the radio and his voice came over the earpiece.

_"Not from me Sarge, to be perfectly truthful I can't stand the fat little shite; I only got him the job because I felt sorry for him. He treats Debby, that's my sister, well he treats her like crap as well, so go for it; do what you need to do. Perhaps Debby will do us all a favour, come to her senses and fucking leave him."_

"Well, we'll talk about it all tomorrow," I told them, relieved that I'm made the right choice. "The three of us will sit down and make some decisions and I'll take it to my boss for the final call. If there's anyone else that you know, and would personally recommend for this gig, please bring me some details tomorrow ok? Just in case we need more bodies. Now if we're all done with talking, would you do me the honour of getting the hell away from here, going home and getting some sleep. Nice work boys, good night. Campbell out."

I listened to their goodnights before pulling the earpiece out of my ear and rubbing at the itching, sweating skin furiously. It doesn't matter how posh those things are they still leave you rubbing and scratching the area when you take them out. I'm pretty sure that my ear would be irritating me for the rest of the night; it usually fucking does. Muttering to myself about inferior, foreign plastics I went about making sure that everything in the control room was definitely on automatic, and that all the recordings were still working after I'd had my little play. Finally satisfied, I padded softly along the corridor to find the Fitch's manservant, Andrew, stood by the main entrance fiddling in a cupboard.

"Ah Miss Campbell, I was about to turn on the alarm for the night. I assume that meets with the new Head of Security's approval?"

"It's ok with me Andrew, I was just coming to find you because Andy said you were about to lock up. Anything I need to know?"

"No madam, everything is fine, the house is secure; I've checked all the main doors and side doors myself and your team have just finished checking the outside."

"Great, thank you Andrew it's nice to know you've got things under control; I'll be off to bed then, can I ask you one final question though?"

"Indeed madam."

"Where would I find my room again?"

o+o+o

The man in the penguin suit showed me back up the stairs and along the wide corridor to my room. After carefully locking the door behind me I glanced at my phone as I plugged it into the charger. One thirty five in the morning blinked back at me; Jesus, no wonder I was feeling tired, that had been one hell of a long day. I was glad that I'd managed to grab a nap on the chopper on the way here, otherwise I think I'd be seriously running on empty; more so even than I am right now, and right now that bed looks like heaven.

I pulled the rest of my stuff out of my bag before I crashed out; my military background taking over as I laid out my casual clothes for the next day and sorted out my gym kit and my swimming gear ready for my morning exercises. I nipped into the bathroom and removed what was left of my makeup and brushed my teeth before heading back into the main room and slipping off my jacket, placing it on its hanger and putting it away.

It wasn't until I unclipped the radio unit that I remembered my promise to Jenna Fitch to look in on Emily and make sure she was secure. Carefully I opened the connecting door to Emily's room as silently as I could; letting out a silent prayer of thanks that it was still unlocked from when she had snuck into my room to leave me the dress that still hung from the silver, heart shaped, hook. Slipping off my shoes I entered her room and quietly padded across the thick carpet.

Emily Fitch looked like something from a painting as she lay in that huge bed; the light from the doorway to my room reflecting off the white walls, creating a soft shading that lit up her sleeping features perfectly. She looked beautiful lying there, hair draped over the pillows in a dark cascade. The illusion was shattered as I got closer to her, because on closer inspection I could tell that she'd been crying again; her face was streaked with dark lines, her pillows coloured with the remnants of her makeup that had run. I resisted the urge to go over and kiss her awake; to wipe away the tracks of her tears, take her in my arms and tell her that everything would be ok. I resisted it because that's not me, I don't do that kind of thing. I'm hard and practical and it's as simple as that.

I don't do emotions, I don't get attached…not any more.

I walked over to the large solid door and put my hand on the huge brass key that stuck out of the lock. Slowly I turned it, easing across the bolt; making sure that this room was secure before walking back to my own. I'd barely gotten three steps when a tired voice called out to the room.

"Who's there?"

"It's only me Miss Fitch, Naomi. I'm just locking up that's all," I added quickly, in case she thought I was trying to slip into her bed or something. "Making sure you're safe."

"Nomi? Is everything ok?" she sounds shattered poor thing and I feel really guilty that I've woke her up. Time for Naomi Campbell, stealth specialist, to make like a fucking ninja and get out of here. Slowly I crept across the carpet, my feet making barely a whisper as I moved, hoping that she'd fall back to sleep again.

"Nomi?"

_'No such fucking luck eh?'_

"Everything's fine Miss Fitch, go back to sleep."

"Emily," she slurred confusing me for a second as I wondered who the fuck she was talking to, "you said you'd call me Emily."

"Go back to sleep Emily, " I ordered her, holding back a stupid grin. "Goodnight."

"G'night Nomi, sleep well…" she said as I pulled the internal doors to. I listened at the opening for a second, straining until I heard her breathing even out and become more regular before it turned back into the soft snores she'd been making as I entered.

Finally satisfied that all was well, I finished getting undressed, climbed into that large and comfortable bed and turned out the light.

.

.

.

**A/N** What? What did you expect, shagging?

Really people, this isn't that kind of story, not yet, not for a long time, perhaps not ever...but that's for me to know and for you to, eventually, find out.

Until next time, damn it feels good to have all these draft chapters in the can ready..now if only I could stop playing with them and moving things backwards to annoy Hawke...(joking) 2 chapters to go mate, I think you might get what you want in Chapter 23 - Twin Dragons (-;

Ares you'll have to wait until next time to see if you'll need tissues for those tears d-:


	22. Running Scared?

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** OK just this once and only because it might stop Hawke flooding my inbox with characters, I have nothing but a huge mortgage, an incredible quantity of talent and massive amounts of awesomeness.

NOT! (no, sorry I just can't do it. I can't lie like that, well ok, yes I have a huge mortgage but the rest of it is lies I tell you, all lies!)

I really do wish I owned even a little part of Skins though, then I could plant it and watch it grow up into a movie, or a decent series written by people like Circ's and Hypes 'cause that's what happens when you nurture things!

**Authors Note **– Couple of things before I go onto bore you with the actual story, (that's for the person that reads my notes and not the actual chapter, you know who you are!) Myrtle, welcome aboard...cold, really? Wow, have to see what we can do to change that in the next 50 or 60 chapters. Can we have an update soon please (-:

hereforcoinlaundry - not what I said mate, I merely meant that this might not be a shagging story! MFEO or not though, that is the question...seeing as you all know there will be Naomily "eventually" the only things I can work with are: how, when, where and will this be a 'happily ever after' or a 'dark tragedy', (oddly enough I now have both endings planned out and no I won't be putting it to a vote!)

Anyway, new _temporary_ disclaimer, new avvie, new chapter, new Es again free of writers block and now off work for a week..woot!

Enjoy!

**Chapter 22 – Running Scared?**

Morning came far too fast as my phone chirped out it's fuck awful alarm at seven am. Begrudgingly I picked it up and turned it off, stretching and rubbing my eyes. Not for me was the lure of the snooze button, the comfort of that extra ten minutes curled up in bed; all those years in the Army had drummed into me the habit that was the early start. In fact, by the Army's standard seven am was a considerable lie in, but I reconciled that with my being on late duties last night and having an early start the morning before.

Yawning noisily I headed into the bathroom, pulling on that conveniently hung robe as I did so and sorted myself out as quickly as I could. The lure of the pool was calling and I was anxious for the peace and quiet it would give me to ease my still racing mind.

I didn't get my peace, because as I left the bathroom I found, sitting cross legged on the bed like a red-headed fucking pixie, a grinning Emily Fitch.

"Morning Naomi," she said brightly, far too brightly for someone that seemed to have knocked back enough booze to float a warship last night.

"Good morning, "I replied, picking up my swimsuit and towel. "Can I help you?"

"You can, it's time for my morning run and seeing as you're supposed to be protecting me, that means it's time for _your_ morning run as well."

I glared at her, and held up my swimsuit for her to see. "I _was_ about to hit the pool, I don't really enjoy running."

"You can hit the pool after the run, I normally do. Come on, a quick few miles around the grounds, it'll build up an appetite for breakfast."

I sat down on the bed, resigned to my fate. I never saw Miss Fitch as a runner, least of all a fucking runner that actually wanted to go outside and away from the comfort of a warm gym showing MTV; where she could show off to the blokes who, in turn, were trying to show off lifting weights. Still, she was right; if she was going running in public then I _had_ to go with her and reluctantly I grabbed my gym gear and began to drag it on.

"I should go and, er, get warmed up." she said turning away quickly as I dropped my robe to the floor and pulled on my running gear. I could feel her burning embarrassment as I changed, obviously not leaving to get warmed up as she said she would, but instead feeling her eyes flick to me as I struggled with my clothes; taking little glances at me when she thought I wasn't looking.

"Problem Miss Fitch?" I teased as I pulled on my hooded top over my newly purchased sports bra and laced up my fucking expensive running shoes; another 'essential piece of work wear' as Lara had put it. I didn't feel quite so guilty about charging them to the company now. I was using them on works time on the instructions of my employer after all.

"None Miss Campbell," she replied her voice guarded. "Apart from the fact that you promised to call me Emily."

"I said I'd take it under advisement, I never said I'd do it."

"Oh." she said chastened as I stood up, "and you never wore the dress I left you last night either."

"It wasn't really my cut Mis…Emily, I don't really do backless garments, or flowing gowns; they're just not me. Besides, as I said, I was working last night; I needed to wear something a bit more practical just in case. Just as well really, I doubt that dress would have looked as good when I got back from the woods after hiding your brothers car."

"Yeah, I wanted to say thanks again for sorting that out Naomi, James is a right little shit, but he's still my brother and it's bad enough dad's going to kill him for crashing the car, without him finding out he was actually pissed up at the time."

"Not a problem Emily, it's all part of the service. Right," I said finally finishing adjusting my trainers and tying my laces; trying to turn the subject away from last night. "I'm ready when you are."

"I'll grab my swimming stuff then," she said, "there's a hut next to the pool, we can get changed down there after the run, it'll save wandering backward and forward through the house."

She slipped out of the room for a second before returning holding a bag. I stuffed my towel and my suit into my own holdall and followed her as she unlocked my door and headed downstairs.

We stretched out next to the large outdoor pool where Emily had placed our bags in a substantial, chalet styled, hut containing a large spa pool and what I assumed was an outdoor sauna; nothing but the best for the Fitch's I guess. After ten minutes of gentle warming up she started jogging on the spot.

"Come on Naomi, you ready?"

"I'm ready," I replied, trying to hide my unease," but you may have to go easy on me Emily, it's been a while since I actually pounded the pavements properly, I'm probably a little out of condition."

"I will, I promise," she said heading off and leaving me to catch up with her. "I normally do at least a lap of the grounds when I'm here; but don't worry, it's only a few miles."

She winked at my look of horror and grinned, setting a slightly faster pace. "I love running here, it makes me feel free. It always gave me peace and quiet to think you know?"

"I get the same thing in the pool," I told her as I slipped into her easy pace and ran next to her on the path. "I don't really like running, but I do love swimming, have done since childhood really. Well since I was a teenager."

"Was that when you lived over in Cheltenham?"

I looked across at her suspiciously, I have no memory at all about mentioning where I grew up, to anyone, least of all to her. In fact apart from Cook, who's background research seemed all too thorough, I can't think of a soul that she might have met that did know. Well apart from Amy; and judging by their last meeting it's unlikely they've been phone buddies since.

"Your portfolio was hardly revealing Naomi, but it did tell me that. Dad was showing it to me the day you first arrived. I know that you're 26, you lived in Cheltenham before joining the Army and lived pretty much on base during your time there; it also said that you did one tour in Iraq and three in Afghanistan besides spending time in the UK and Germany."

"Old news now Emily," I said, puffing a bit already and trying to watch my breathing. "Thanks to Katie that is. Though it forgot about a stint in Northern Ireland and a trip to Canada on exercise. What else did it say?"

"Just that you'd been injured and the only reason you left the Army is because you had to. Why was that?"

"Got shot in the arm and the leg," I said holding out my left arm and flexing the fingers, "I failed my combat medical and they wanted to put me behind a desk."

"You got shot in the _leg_," she said, shock in her voice. "Jesus, why didn't you tell me you got shot in the leg? Fucking hell Naomi, I'd never have dragged you out running if I'd known."

"It's ok Emily. The leg's not the problem. It's my arm that's a bit knackered; I've got minor nerve damage apparently. It shouldn't affect me in any normal way, it just meant I wasn't capable of shooting properly according to the MO."

"It seemed ok when you were shooting with mum yesterday."

"It was, it's more to do with my fingers actually and I never really understood it; I have to say my old shoulder wound was a bit sore afterwards, that Purdey packs one hell of a punch."

"I'll take your word for it," she said nudging me with her elbow as we ran. "I fucking hate the things."

"Yeah, you said you don't like guns yesterday; any particular reason for hating weapons, soldiers and war or is it just a moral thing?" I asked, smiling across at her.

"You cheeky cow! If you must know it's not _just_ a moral thing, though I am philosophically opposed to war and all that goes with it. I don't like fighting of any type and it seems that every single person I've met from the military, and I've met a lot of people in my time, is a moronic twat. All the officials seem to be in-bred sexists that see me as a silly little girl in a man's world. Christ, some of them even look at me as if I should shag them to get their business; and all the ex-soldiers that have ended up trying to look after the family are about as intelligent as that tree, and have about as many morals as it as well."

"How do you know that tree _doesn't_ have morals." I asked, perhaps a little harsher than I'd intended. I guess feeling the sting from her casual comment. Angry and embarrassed, I kicked on and passed her; putting on a burst of speed to increase the distance between us.

"Shit, _shit_," she exclaimed, pulling to a halt and shouting after me. "I didn't mean _you_ Naomi, I'm sorry if you thought that; you're nothing like those others."

I didn't stop running, following the path around the grounds and towards a tree filled hollow in the distance.

"Naomi," she called after me, "Naomi what's the fucking matter? I said I was sorry."

I heard her start running again, her breathing getting closer as she sprinted along to catch me up. We ran for a while in silence, the crunching of the cinders underfoot the only noise we made. Emily kept on flicking glances towards me as we ran, looking across at me as I ardently ignored her. I was still smarting from her comments; she might not have meant me in particular, but she was _still_ shitting on people from the Forces. Once again lumping us all in that huge bigoted barrel of hers, and that still hurts. I thought I'd helped her past that, back at the apartment when we'd finally called a cessation to hostilities.

"This is about last night isn't it," she said out of nowhere; surprising me with her forthrightness. "You're pissed off at me because I kissed you last night, that's what it is isn't it?"

"No Miss Fitch, this is _nothing_ to do with last night. I'm pissed off because you singularly fail to grasp that people in the Forces are just that, people. We have feelings and issues and problems and families just like you, yet you constantly dismiss us like we're nothing."

"I didn't mean you Naomi, I said that. I meant the idiots that have come to do your job in the past, the people I've had to deal with, I was speaking from experience."

"Then say that Miss Fitch," I said exasperatedly, "stop making such sweeping statements about us, stop sounding like you're generalising. You wouldn't like it if I said that _all_ arms dealers were unscrupulous profiteers with no moral fibre and no conscience. That they're _all_ bastards; that they're _all_ responsible for the deaths of innocents the world over. You wouldn't like that would you? because you'd be a part of that group Miss Fitch and that would hurt you, even if I told you that I meant everyone else."

We ran on in silence again, the cluster of tree's getting ever closer as our feet pounded against the hard ground.

"I'm sorry Naomi, you're right again; just I don't think before I speak do I? _Jesus_ I know how to put my foot in my mouth, I didn't mean to offend you."

"It's ok Miss Fitch, I'm sure I can find it in me to forgive you; we're like that in the Forces, we don't hold grudges."

I dropped back a pace, running just behind her shoulder, taking a break from the conversation and trying to indicate that, as far as I was concerned, it had ended. Emily seemed to take the hint as she ran, leading us onwards at a steady pace that was making my lungs burn a little and boring the crap out of me.

See this is the problem with running, it's why I don't like it. When I swim I feel totally isolated, it's me and the pool, and the pool is nothing but the few feet of water that surrounds me wherever I go. When I swim I'm completely alone with my thoughts and that's exactly how I like it. When I run I can't think, I can't cut myself off from the sounds and the sensations and the people; I can't cut myself off from everything that's around me, can't switch off from the constant repetitive pounding and the pain of my aching knees.

_Because_ that's all I can think of, _because_ there's nothing to stimulate my mind; I get bored quite quickly. In fact I'm really fucking bored right now; one, two. Left, right...that's all running is, a constant cycle of pick 'em up and put 'em down, achieving nothing but getting to from one place to another and we have cars for that kind of uninspired travel.

Seriously, I fucking hate it. Though the sight of Emily's arse running in front of me in those tight running shorts is a distinct improvement on the view of the guys I had to train with in the CPU.

A huge improvement in fact.

o+o+o

With Emily leading the way, we turned off the main path and ran towards the tree filled hollow I'd seen earlier. I wondered what she was doing as we picked our way across the rough ground and into the woods, until suddenly the trees cleared and I was amazed to find a small sculpted lake nestling in between those trees. A thin gravel path surrounded it's neat edges and the morning sun was reflecting lazily off the still water. Emily led me along the path and we began a lap of this little grotto, shaded from the early morning sun by the dappled shade of the trees.

I felt a wonderful sense of peace come over me as we ran around that lovely looking lake and I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to jump in and swim from one end to the other. _'Bloody cold'_ was my first thought, but that still didn't stop the urge to dive headlong into those dark waters and find myself some peace.

"Penny for them," Emily said as we ran, our bodies starting to perspire under the exertion.

"I was thinking how nice it would be to go swimming in there actually." I said shortly, not bothering to expand on things any further.

"Naomi I said I was sorry," she said, sounding genuinely upset.

"and I said I forgave you," I told her simply, not wanting to get into a fight with my charge.

"But you're still mad at me," she said, drawing to a standstill in a little opening in the trees, shaking out her limbs as she stopped to keep her muscles loose.

"A bit," I admitted, running lightly on the stop to warm down, breathing slightly more heavily than I used to at this stage in a BFT.

"Can we talk about this?" She asked sitting herself onto a tree stump, looking for all the world like a forest fairy, albeit one dressed head to toe in Nike sportswear.

"Can we talk about what Miss Fitch?" I replied, stretching out my tightening calf muscle and wincing slightly at the pain.

"This fucking elephant that's plonked itself between us Naomi, the one you're trying to pretend doesn't exist. Why don't we just talk about what happened between us last night. You know, when you came looking for me, threatened to kick my door down and talked to me like I was a fucking human being. Last night when you made me feel like I was actually worth something. You remember, last night...when I kissed you."

So she remembered, remembered a lot more than I thought she might. Yes I'd been hoping she'd forget, yes I hoped that she'd think it was some kind of drunken dream and that we'd go back to how it was before she opened Pandora's box with that kiss.

I also remembered Cook's words from last night; he's right, I do have a choice and with great reluctance I made it.

"Last night was a mistake Miss Fitch," I told her firmly. "You were drunk and I was stupid, it should never have happened"

She looked across at me, her eyes hurt, before looking away staring into the lake. Gazing into those still waters as if she hoped that they would reach out to swallow up my words.

"But I wanted it to happen, don't you get that?"

'_Don't tell me things like that Emily, you're making this hard for me.'_

"I get that you were drunk and may have wanted to try something Miss Fitch, but I'm not your experiment. You don't mess with people like that, I'm a person, and that's not something you do just because you fancy trying something different."

"Experiment! Is that what you think that was?"

"It doesn't matter what I think Miss Fitch, experiment or not it was a mistake. Perhaps it was just the booze right? You were just a little bit drunk, maybe that's all it was; just one more drink induced lapse in judgement."

"No Naomi it wasn't just the drink, though I admit that it may have made it easier. It wasn't just a fucking experiment. I felt like kissing you so I did; it's not like you didn't enjoy it."

"What?" I asked, a little shaken by her tone. "What makes you say that?"

"You kissed me _back_ Naomi, don't try and pretend otherwise because I was fucking there and I remember it clearly. _Very_ fucking clearly in fact; I kissed you, and you kissed me back. Now we either deal with it, or we go on trying to pretend like it never happened and fuck this all up."

So there it is, she has a very neat way of simplifying matters, distilling the complex right down into its simplest, most concentrated form. I _had_ kissed her back, in truth I _had_ fucking enjoyed it. I really do want to pretend it never happened, though I know that's a pipe dream as well.

"Like I said, I was stupid Miss Fitch; sue me, I'm human. I get kissed by a pretty girl and I can't help but be flattered you know? Doesn't mean that what I did was right though. I'm supposed to be a fucking professional, and I need to _be_ professional; and that doesn't include kissing my clients in garden sheds. That's a profession I want no part of."

"So you regret it?" she asked simply, those big brown eyes boring into mine. I sat myself down on a fallen log next to her and sighed.

"Yes Miss Fitch, I regret it. I wish you hadn't kissed me and I wish I hadn't enjoyed it and wanted to kiss you back. I'm your CPO Miss Fitch, I just can't do things like that; they make things complicated and complicated gets people hurt."

She sat staring at me for a while as if she was sifting through my head searching for the truth; before finally speaking.

"Can't things be complicated?"

I shrugged by way of reply, not the answer she wanted, not really the one I wanted to give. |I can't even look her in the eye because everything I'm saying is a lie; well sort of. I do regret kissing her back, and yet I don't as well. Things are already complicated, I'm not sure I need them to get any more complicated.

"Fine." She announced jumping off the stump and bouncing on her toes to warm up her muscles. "Come on, we've got two more laps to do then we can follow the path home."

Something's not right, my head tells me as she stretches out once again, this was too easy; she dropped the subject too quickly for my liking. I'm forcing myself not to be concerned though, the subject has been dropped and that's a relief. As I climb to my feet and stretch out my already tightening muscles I can feel her eyes on me. I was right, something tells me that this isn't the end of this conversation.

o+o+o

The run back was uneventful, well as far as deep and meaningful conversations went. We jogged in more or less silence, completing our laps of the lake before leaving the woods and heading out into the bright morning sun. There was a bit more activity around the estate as we crossed the top of the South Gardens and ran past Jenna's shooting hut. Figures could be seen in the windows of the house and somewhere in the distance the distinctive sound of a two stroke engine was chugging along, presumably some sort of large lawn mower to sort out the Fitch's massive gardens.

There was a faint smell of cooking as we passed the kitchens, the hint of a proper squaddies breakfast being cooked. We ignored it and pressed on, finally arriving back at our starting point.

"Twice round the pool to warm down Naomi, come on." She said, setting off at a light jog, before slowing down to a walk. "You're not as unfit as you implied Naomi. Do you always tell fibs like that."

I shook my head, trying to catch my breath once again. In all honesty I'd surprised myself this morning. Ok we hadn't exactly been running at my normal BFT speeds, but still, I hadn't done badly, all things considered.

"Next time I'll run at my normal pace, see if you can keep up then."

There was a cheeky smirk on her face as she said it, but still I vowed to get myself up to peak fitness as soon as possible. She might think she's a runner, but I can run too; I just don't like it.

"Not a problem Emily," I told her, using her first name for the first time since the lake; trying, in my own strange way, to tell her I'd forgiven her for her insult, and that it was time to move on.

"I bet you dinner sometime that you won't be able to keep up though."

"Done," I said before I realised the consequences of what I'd just agreed to.

"Cool," she said quickly, before I got a chance to retract my agreement. "I'll look forward to winning that bet; time for that swim then."

I got changed quickly and dived into the cold water of the open air pool. It was a warm morning, but the water was in fact icy cold, and I was glad that I'd warmed down from the run properly before diving in. As it was, I could feel the shock hitting my muscles as the cold sank in and I swam a little bit faster to get everything moving once again.

I immersed myself fully in that freezing cold water and turned my thoughts inward; this was a mess, a mess of my own creation. I knew that giving in to her about her name would be a big deal, would perhaps signal a softening in the professionalism that I'd so carefully cultured. What I hadn't expected, not in a million years, was that Emily would actually kiss me as a result and that I would kiss her back as passionately, as deeply, as I had done.

It was indeed a mess, Pandora's box was well and truly open; and no amount of screaming or sulking or crying would put the evils that I had wrought back in there. Just like in the ancient story all that was left in that box was hope, the hope that things wouldn't go wrong; the hope that everything would be all right.

I'd tried to push her away by the lake, but she didn't seem to want to stay pushed. She gave me the impression that she'd merely conceded some ground, pulled back her forces in order to muster her troops ready for the counter attack. The question was, was I prepared enough to rebuff her next charge, or the one after that? What was my tactical situation, could I stand firm, did I even want to?

As I swam I thought honestly with myself about the situation, thinking carefully about Cooks words. Did I want to see where things would develop with Emily, or did I want to go back to being the 'stuck up, tight arse' he had described me as. What the hell did Emily want? That was another important question. It seemed strange to me that all this happened after Amy appeared back in my life; that she would start being nice to me and then kiss me after she found out I was gay. Was I just some kind of fucking experiment, despite her words; was this just something she'd wanted to get out of her system, a chance to mess about? Was she just looking for a quick fling? Was she simply trying to use me to dabble with her sexuality, before she went back to the business of hunting for the ideal boyfriend ready for the big wedding the Fitch's no doubt wanted.

Was I making too much of something that was very, very simple?

Yes she is attractive, yes I am attracted to her, why not see where things go? Even if it was an experiment, it didn't mean it couldn't be fun for both of us. Neither of us had to get hurt if neither of us are really that serious. Besides, in private things were different between us already. I can't even say with any certainty that she had changed towards me after Amy appeared, after all weren't there signs of her warming to me even after we got back to the apartment following that chase?

Jesus, it's fucking scary to think about, but in only three days she'd well and truly burrowed herself in and made herself at home, so what difference would a bit of friendliness make?

Oh fuck it, I don't really know anything anymore, perhaps things are simple, perhaps they are complicated. Either way I had to make that choice all over again, follow Cook's advice or remain professionally distant. Not for the first time in my life I was happy that I was swimming, happy that I could lock myself away with my thoughts and analyse everything carefully. Weigh up the pro's and con's like this was any other mission; look for the weak areas where I could get hit and hurt by the enemy; decide upon the right approach.

In the silence of that cold pool I made my decision, if it worked for Cook then it might work for me; I could be friendly, then perhaps see if anything else occurred.

Worse comes to worst I'll get Cook to take me off this duty, worse comes to worst I'll simply resign before anyone gets hurt; emotionally or physically.

o+o+o

After about ten more minutes of working my way back and forth through the cold and silent water, I reluctantly hauled myself to the edge of the pool and climbed out; grabbing my towel and rubbing myself down quickly. I looked back into the pool for my training partner, only to find Emily sat on a nearby bench, obviously showered and changed, smiling back at me.

"Good swim? You were in there ages," she said, looking me up and down as she did so.

"I thought you were planning on joining me."

"Fuck that Naomi," she said pointing at a large wood and glass thermometer that was attached to the side of the pool. "Did you not see how fucking cold that water is before you dived in? There's not a cat in hell's chance you'll get me in there; not when there's a warm shower and a change of clothes waiting in my room."

"Your loss," I told her, "the water was great, a bit chilly admittedly; but exhilarating especially after that run. You should have tried it, gets the heart racing; makes you feel alive."

I looped the towel around my neck and walked over to the pool hut where I'd got changed, bending over to grab my hoody from the bench next to my gym bag where I'd left it.

As I stood, I felt the heat of a warm hand touch the bare part of my back, the part where the figure hugging material of my racing swimsuit didn't cover the soft skin. Delicately I felt a finger softly trace the line of my spine, sending tingles through my nerves as it did so, and then shivered slightly as warm breath flowed like water across the back of my neck.

"Bloody hell Naomi," I heard Emily whisper with a voice filled with awe, "that's beautiful."

.

.

.

**A/N** Ares there you go, you can put those tissues away now, she did remember (-:

Hope that's ok for you all, see you next week (-:


	23. Twin Dragons

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent and a distinct lack of awesomeness! Yay, normal service is resumed (-:

Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which still makes me very upset but not as much as before).

**Authors Note **– OK this chapter is solely dedicated to Ladyhawk1709 for reasons that will become apparent, but mainly because she's been bugging me about this since I let something slip in a PM _way_ back, before chapter 6 in fact. I might have hinted I've been putting this chapter back to annoy her, well I lied, this was always how and when this was going to happen.

Anyway, chapter 23 is here for you, I hope you all enjoy it, especially you Hawke.

**Chapter 23 – Twin Dragons**

"_Bloody hell Naomi, that's beautiful."_

"May I?" she asked sheepishly as I turned to look at her. Her eyes were open wide, a look of pleasure on her face. "it's amazing, such craftsmanship, it's like they're real."

My brain finally clicked as to what she'd been looking at and why she'd touched me; she'd seen the tattoo that covered pretty much all of my back. It's funny, but I wouldn't think of her as being a tattoo person; but then she had mentioned painting last night, so perhaps, as an artist, she _would_ just want to appreciate the work. The only thing is, it's late April, I'm still wet through and I'm stood in nothing but my swimsuit. I really don't have the penchant to model my tattoo for her right now.

"Yeah sure," I told her, "look all you like, but can I at least get in and get a shower first please. It's not exactly summer out here is it?"

She nodded, removing her soft warm hand from my back and looking embarrassed as I pulled my hooded top over my wet swimwear; covering my bare skin and the artwork on my back.

"You really should have worn that dress you know." she told me seriously. "It would have looked amazing with that work showing. You'd have just killed some of the women at that party if they'd seen you looking like that."

"Yeah well, I'm not really supposed to be visible Emily, I'm supposed to be _in_visible, you know? Hiding in the shadows and only appearing when needed to save family Fitch from dangers real and imagined. Anyway, I think one person stealing the limelight from Katie made her grumpy enough."

To my surprise she looked up at me with interest, "Someone made Katie angry by turning up? Who was it? Was it Effy? Come on Naomi do tell...Katie fucking hates being upstaged."

I looked up at her as I sat on the hut's bench seat dried off my feet so I could slip my socks and trainers back on. Her eyes were filled with curiosity; strange, surely she knew who'd upstaged her sister.

"You're kidding right? You really don't know?"

"I didn't spend much time at the party remember?" she said. "First there was James and then dad and after that I didn't go back. I've no idea who could have upstaged Katie; I really wish I'd seen it though, she tries so hard to be the 'belle of the ball' she must have been green with envy."

She actually sounds quite satisfied that her sister had finally been upstaged by someone. I got a brief glimpse at the sibling rivalry they had right then. It must be tough for her having to fight to be seen with Katie being given the limelight all her life.

"Oh she turned a quite lovely shade of green," I told her as I finished retying my laces, "I'm surprised you didn't notice, she was looking right at you at the time."

Emily's head snapped to stare at mine. "You mean _me_? You think it was _me_ that upstaged her last night?"

She really did sound surprised, I guess I'm not the only one around here that's 'not too bright' as Effy put it.

"Yes Emily, you. Did you not take a look at yourself in a mirror before you came down those stairs? I actually believed, at one point, that I was going to have to protect you from her; the looks she kept giving you as you made that big entrance should have killed you stone dead."

"Really?" she said with a shy smile on her face that had more than a hint of being slightly smug.

"Yes," I replied, standing and picking up my bag and throwing it over my shoulder. "Really."

She was still smiling shyly as we walked back into the house. She had a little spring to her step that I'd not seen before, probably quite pleased that she'd totally outshone her sister with her entrance to the party. She's cute when she does that, she makes it really quite hard to stay professional.

'_Damn it Emily, this is fucking killing me, fucking stop it!'_

"I think at least two people upstaged Katie last night then Naomi," she said finally speaking as we walked up the stairs. "I don't think she was impressed with Effy looking as good as she did either."

"Yeah, she scrubs up well does Miss Stonem, she was looking very attractive indeed. Cook looked pretty suave in his DJ as well."

"They make a good couple don't they?" she replied, frowning slightly as she said it. "What I mean to say is they fit. It's kind of difficult to imagine them with other people if you know what I mean."

I nodded, knowing exactly what she meant. "Right, this is me," I said as we reached my room, "I need a shower, some dry clothes and food in that order."

"Well you'd better get a move on if you want breakfast, you've got about twenty minutes before we all sit down."

"We all?" I asked, resting my hand on the large oak door, slightly bemused by the comment.

"Yeah, it's kind of a tradition when we're all here, we all have breakfast together before we go our separate ways. We don't get to meet up as a family all that often, not since Katie moved out. But we normally sit down at nine and it's twenty to now so you'd better get a move on. If you've stayed you've got to have breakfast before you leave, that's mum's rule."

"Not a problem," I told her, twisting the handle of my door. "I'd hate to break one of your mum's rules. It should only take me ten minutes to get ready if I get a move on. Now if you'll excuse me, I thing I have a hot date with a warm shower."

I shoved open the door into my room and stepped in, kicking it closed behind me as I pulled at the hem of my top dragging the hoody over my head and throwing it towards the bed. I was stopped in my tracks, as I took a half a step towards the bathroom, by a loud thump and an even louder scream from the hallway.

"What the fuck?" I exclaimed, and opened the door to see Emily sat on the carpet, white faced, with tears in her eyes. She was sitting on the floor holding her left wrist, the one she'd hurt during the car chase, the one I thought was ok.

"Emily are you all right, what the fuck happened?"

"You slammed the fucking door on me and when I put my stupid fucking hand out to stop it closing I must have caught it funny," she said flexing her wrist up and down gingerly. "Fuck that hurts!"

"Jesus Ems," I said squatting down next to her, "are you going to be ok?"

"I'll be fine," she said, not looking fine at all; looking pretty bloody far from fine if the truth be told. "Give me a lift up if you would."

"Christ I'm so sorry Emily," I said, ignoring her proffered hand and stepping behind her; slipping my hands under her shoulders and lifting her to her feet.

"I didn't realise you were following me in, I thought you were going to your room or something. Why were you trying to hold open my door?"

"I needed to get into _my_ room," she said, wincing through the pain. "I have to go through yours to get there now; _someone_ locked my door last night and now the fucking lock's broken. It hasn't worked properly since I jammed it full of paper to stop James peering through it when I was sixteen. It looks like the mechanism is completely jammed up now though and I can't turn the key anymore."

"Shit, this is all my fault in more ways than one then," I admitted sheepishly, "I was the one that locked your door last night."

"I thought you'd come into my room last night, I'd convinced myself I was dreaming though. What the fuck did you lock my door for?"

"I didn't want you sleepwalking," I told her sitting her down on the end of my bed and checking her wrist with my fingertips as she frowned at me.

"I was making sure no-one could just get into your room, what the fuck else would I be doing Emily? Your mum asked me to check in on you so I did."

She stuck her tongue out at me in response and then winced as I very gently tried to rotate her wrist.

"Is there a car here that I can use? I think we need to go to hospital Emily, you should get this X-Rayed. What did that doctor say the other day, back at the flat?"

"She thought I'd sprained it; told me that I should go and see my GP."

"and you did nothing about it?" I asked astonished. Frankly I am stunned by her lack of common sense; I thought she was more intelligent than that, she must have been in pain for the last few days and tried to hide it.

"I've been busy, I had that deal to settle remember? Then dad wanted to have dinner, then we had plans to come here. Anyway, I didn't want to make a fuss, it was only a sore wrist and it didn't hurt that much. On the scale of having a stand up fist fight, getting shot at, covered in broken glass and having to look after me, it didn't seem that important. Besides, I really didn't want a bandage to ruin my dress last night."

"You flaming muppet; you don't mess about with injuries Emily, that's one of the things they taught me in the Army. Everyone tries to tough it out, makes light of their injuries to show how hard they are, but it always comes back to bite you in the arse…if you're lucky that is."

"and if you're unlucky?" she asked as I held her arm across her body and used her shirt to make a temporary sling.

"If you're unlucky it comes back to bite _everyone_ on the arse. Next time you're hurt you _tell_ me ok? No hiding things, I can't help you if I don't know what's wrong. Right you sit there and don't move and don't strain that wrist any further. I'm going to take a quick shower and then I'm driving you to the nearest hospital."

"Breakfast first though?" she said, looking horrified that I'd attempt to deny her food.

"Yes Miss Fitch," I said smiling at her. "If that's what you want then it's breakfast first, but we're going to get that strapped up before you sit down; I've seen how fast you can eat."

I was less than five minutes in the shower, though I could have spent hours in there, my muscles starting to ache after their bout of exertion, the warm water pounding the throb into submission. As I sluiced the soap off I heard a knock on the door and Emily's voice calling out.

"Naomi, there's about five minutes to breakfast, you might want to get a move on."

Reluctantly I turned off the water and stripped the excess water from my skin with my hands. As I towelled myself off, as quickly as I could, I reflected that at least it was Saturday and I didn't need to piss about putting on makeup other than to hide my black eye a bit and I wouldn't have to wear a suit. I pulled on my shorts, dragged a brush through my unruly hair and shoved my way through the door and into my room to finish getting dressed.

Emily was still say on my bed, fiddling with her phone as I came in, she looked up only to close her eyes and look away rapidly as she saw me walking in half naked.

"Christ Emily," I said, amused at her antics, "you don't have to keep doing that you know. There's nothing special about my body, we're both built the same you know."

She turned her head slowly as I sat down on the bed and pulled on my jeans; she opened her mouth as if to say something, before closing it and looking at my back again. Her eyes flicking back and forth as she strove to take it all in. I turned my head with a small, hidden, smile of pride; I can understand why she keeps staring at it, even now, years after I'd had the tattoo done, I still find myself admiring it when I catch sight of it in a mirror.

It had taken three sessions split over twelve months to complete in total, the outline being done first and allowed to heal before I had a chance to get back to the shop and allow the artist to get on with doing the colouring. It took up practically the whole of my back and had meant I couldn't sleep comfortably for weeks as it healed. It had taken most of my leave time to get it done as well, but I didn't regret any of it, not one lost hour of sleep not one moment of pain. I didn't even regret the agony they had put me through when I'd had to pull my Bergen onto my still healing back and head out on another miserable training march.

They were my twin dragons and I fucking love them.

As I'd tried to explain to Emily, in that coffee shop in London, some people get tattoo's because it's just the done thing, they got them to be normal rather than unique. I'd seen plenty of them in the Army, loads of the guys in my Unit had them done after our first tour in Afghanistan, fuck even I had one done as well. My pride and joy was different though, my pride and joy _meant_ something to me; I'd got it done because I wanted it to symbolise something very special and I'd been very, _very_ specific about what I wanted.

On my back, coupled in an almost endless embrace, were my twin dragons. The largest was a red and gold dragon; not one of those European dragons, all wings and Arthurian mysticism, but a Japanese dragon. A fire dragon in fact, large and bold and fierce looking; staring out from my right shoulder blade with a look that could level whole nations, whole planets in fact. Around that was intertwined a second, slightly smaller dragon; blue and white, the colours of ice but no less fierce for it, glaring at the world from under the blanket of its guardians love; it's head cradled protectively under the claw of the other, resting slightly on its guardians chest.

Down the left hand side of my back I'd had the artist carefully ink in the kanji, the characters hurting almost as much as the outline had; but the pain had been good, cathartic almost. It was the pain that made the tattoo mean something to me, made it feel like the symbol it was.

Red and Blue, Fire and Ice, Mother and Daughter.

My twin dragons were the symbol that Gina Louise Campbell was always with me, her love wrapped around me, protecting me always. Fire was how I always thought of my mother, her passion for justice and freedom still consuming every moment of her life, almost to the very end.

She went by many names did Gina Campbell; activist, revolutionary, anarchist even. But to me she was always just mum, and I loved her as dearly as she loved me. She loved me despite the hard times I'd put her through as I grew up and learned to come to terms with who I was, who I am. Through it all, through the pain and the confusion; and as bitchy and rebellious as I was during that time, her love for me never faltered. She was my mum, the one true constant in my life, the one person I can honestly say, hand on heart, that I loved…still love to this day.

I have more than one tattoo on my body, some were just frivolous things that I saw and wanted; but two were important to me, they were symbols of me and my mum and they both meant more to me that everything I'd ever had done. They were my attempt at lessening the pain of her loss, not that it had really worked; but they were, at the very least, my reminders of her and they never ceased to make me happy.

I could feel Emily's eyes examining every line, every scale on those dragons bodies and I shifted my body slightly to allow her to look at it properly. She didn't say a word as I moved around, pulling on my boots.

"Finished?" I asked twisting my head around to look at her. "Because I think I need to put a shirt on, I'm not sure what your breakfast dress code is here, but I'm sure turning up topless isn't going to win me any awards with your family."

"It might with James," she replied breaking out in another one of those shy smiles, another one that didn't really touch those pain dulled eyes that she was careful to keep hidden from me. "He's _always_ been interested in women's bodies."

"Is that why he was peering through your keyhole when you were sixteen?"

"Yeah, he was a right fucking perv; still is in fact."

I can't help but think that a younger brother spying on his sister is a little bit weird, but then the Fitch's don't appear to be anything like a normal family, and I've got nothing to compare them to myself. Shaking my head I got up from the bed and opened the drawer where I'd put my meagre supply of clothes, pulling out a plain white t-shirt and dragging it over my head and tucking it into my jeans before pulling a horribly logo'd sweatshirt over the top.

"Right, ready when you are Miss Fitch; now, let's go and get that wrist strapped up _before_ you damage it trying to eat!"

o+o+o

One roll of tubigrip, that fortunately Andrew managed to appear with when we asked; one sling, and one bit of childish complaining about being strapped up with said bandaging materials, and Miss Fitch is sat next to me and her mother at a large dining table with what looked like the contents of an entire mess hall on her plate. I know she can eat, I saw her attack the Chinese meal at the office but she certainly seems to like her breakfasts; and having one arm immobilised doesn't seem to be holding her back any, I have to say.

Personally I don't normally do breakfast, a bowl of cereal, a nice cup of tea or a glass of orange juice normally does me; at least until lunchtime anyway. Here though, despite my requests, I'd been brought a continental breakfast as well as my cereal; and despite my reservations I'm quite enjoying it. I'm quite enjoying the conversation as well, sat as I am next to Jenna at the end of the table. That was until…

"I heard you had a dip in our pool this morning Naomi," Rob bellowed from his position at head of the table, opposite his wife and lording it over his 'underlings'.

"You're certainly a brave girl doing that in April, we haven't even turned the water heaters on yet."

"I noticed," I said with a fake shiver and a fake grin. I don't have much respect left for Robert Fitch, not after what I saw and heard last night; but I still have a political game to play here.

"Sounds like you gave our Emily there a run for her money anyway, sounds like you wore her out if she couldn't face a swim. So much for taking your old man on in the Ironman stakes Emsy."

"Actually Rob, Miss Fitch was going easy on me. I'm still not a hundred percent fit yet, and I'm carrying a few injuries I need to strengthen before I'll be ready to run at her true pace, if I ever make it there that is; she's a far better runner than me, she can even kick my ass with a bust wrist."

I got a grateful look from Emily as she tucked, one handed, into her breakfast, trying to ignore her father's less than veiled jibes.

"Rob tells me you're coming across to the States next month Emily," Cook said suddenly. "You and Naomi will have to swing by the offices so I can show them off a bit."

'_May all the Gods bless James Cook,'_ I thought as he cleverly changed both the subject and the direction of the conversation, swinging it back to our end of the table and away from Rob.

"Sounds like a date James," Emily replied, dabbing her mouth with her cloth napkin. "Katie's arranged for us to have a stand at the Expo again. I believe that it's pretty local to your offices; well, close by American standards that is."

"Well now," Cook drawled, sitting back in his chair with a self satisfied look on his face, "that's just fine isn't it. We've got a small booth there ourselves, we have done for the last couple of years; costs me a bloody fortune, but it's been totally worth it in business and exposure. Anyway, if you're going to be over for the Expo anyway Emily, I might have to sign Naomi here up for the competition."

I looked up at him, brow furrowed in suspicion, "what competition would that be James?"

"That's a great idea James," Emily exclaimed, almost dropping her fork in excitement. "Perhaps she might even get to go up against you. That I _would_ like to see."

"Er, excuse me," I interjected into their private little conversation. "I hate to interrupt this little planning session, but _what_ exactly are you two planning to set me up to do?"

"The expo always runs a shooting competition Naomi," Emily explained, "Effy was telling me that James' the reigning champion yesterday on the ride over here, I think you were asleep. That's right isn't it James?"

"Sure is, Emily. I was the 2009 champion, first time of entering as well. Got us quite a bit of business as well pulling that off. Things like that always looks good for a company like mine."

"What's involved?" I asked before I could stop myself. Curse my competitive nature.

"Lots of bits of competitions to do Naomikins, but the premier competition, the one that really matters, is a combined Pistol, Rifle and Combat Alley shoot; best combined score wins the day, and the ten thousand dollar prize fund."

I couldn't help feeling a little bit excited at the thought of it, though I'm far from combat ready. Christ the last time I picked up a real weapon was the last time I fired one, back at the ambush in Gereshk. Still I had been pretty good in my day and if I could get a few practice runs in I might not completely embarrass myself. It'd be good to test myself like that again, do something I was actually good at.

"Sounds like a laugh James," I told him trying to sound casual about it, "been a while since I handled a weapon though."

"It's like riding a bike Naomikins, when we get you over to the US I'll take you to my shooting club, they've got everything you need to get some practice in."

"Sounds like a great idea guys," shouted Rob, obviously anxious to get into the conversation. "I'll tell you what, whatever weapons you both need I'll provide them, call it a sponsorship deal from Fitch Industries, Katie will sort out the publicity won't you love? Just tell Emsy there what you fancy and I'll have it waiting in James' club ready for you."

"That could set you back a bit Rob," laughed Cook rubbing his hands together. "I've always fancied a gold plated Desert Eagle."

"You'll get the bill if you try James," Rob said laughing along with him. "In fact, Naomi if you beat James this year I'll match that prize money and give ten grand to a charity of your choice how's that for an incentive?"

I wanted to curl up somewhere and die, yes I'm competitive; but being Rob Fitch's proxy penis in his and Cook's willy waving competition could prove problematic.

"You're on Rob; Naomikins I'll get you signed up later on today as soon as I get back to the office."

I looked across at Emily and rolled my eyes, prompting a shy smile.

"You know Naomi dear, you _could_ just tell those two schoolboys that you're not interested in their silly game." Jenna said softly, causing both myself and Emily to stare at her.

"Though," she said considering her words, "if yesterdays example of you being rusty with a gun is anything to go by, then I don't think you'll do badly at all."

"Thanks," I managed to mutter as the talk at the table turned to different things.

"I'll have my fingers crossed for you anyway, it'll kill Rob having to give that much money away, I doubt for one second he actually believes you can beat James in this competition, he's such a chauvinist. Still I'm sure he'll turn it to his advantage as usual. Tea dear?"

"Er yes please Jenna... and, er, thanks," I said again, feeling lamer by the minute.

"How do you like to take it?"

I nearly choked as I noticed the half raised eyebrow and the knowing smirk from Emily at her last comment but managed to not to embarrass myself and just fake a cough.

"White, no sugar please Jenna," I replied finally regaining control or my faculties; thinking that Emily and I will be having words.

"You're weird, you do know that don't you," Emily told me as Jenna poured the tea into my cup.

"What's that dear?" Jenna asked, looking up and reaching for the milk jug.

"Naomi's weird mum," she said looking across at me.

"You have tea with no sugar," she explained, "yet you put two sugars in your coffee. I just think that's strange that's all"

"Coffee's too bitter for me usually," I said, for some reason trying to explain myself to her. "I have to put sugar in it or it tastes foul."

"_and_ she won't drink coffee first thing in the morning," she said, sipping at her own strong cup of black coffee. "Like I say, weird."

"If I drink coffee first thing in the morning it gives me a headache and makes me feel sick, I've got to have something in my stomach before my system can cope with coffee."

"I have the same thing dear," Jenna said smiling at me and handing me my cup. "My food nemesis is grapefruit juice. Robert and I stayed at a hotel once, and I had grapefruit juice for breakfast on an empty stomach and spent the rest of the morning doubled over. I don't think I've ever been so ill in my life; totally ruined our honeymoon I'm afraid."

She picked up her own cup of tea and smiled across at me. "You take no notice of my daughter Naomi, we all have our own little foibles. Emily there wouldn't go to sleep without Mr Flibble until she was thirteen."

"MUM!"

"Mr Flibble?" I asked her raising an eyebrow in return and quietly enjoying the dark red blush that reached from Emily's neck to her cheeks.

"He's my toy penguin, dad bought him for me when I was a baby. I love that penguin so no taking the piss all right?"

"You're the boss Miss Fitch," I said, stifling my grin; she's adorable when she's embarrassed.

"Yeah I am," she said firmly, "You remember that when it comes to Mr Flibble."

"You shouldn't worry Emily," drawled Cook, leaning over towards her. "Effy here still has her toy giraffe under her pillow even now. Goes everywhere with her he does, she won't leave home without him. I'm pretty sure she loves that giraffe more than me"

"You leave Pato out of this conversation James Cook, or you'll be sleeping on the sofa for the next week."

We all laughed at the face he pulled at her threat; and to my relief, breakfast continued without further incident

o+o+o

With a quick check on insurance details, making sure I was covered after the success of my last time driving Emily around, I borrowed one of the Fitch's Range Rovers to drive her to the hospital in nearby Bath. I didn't have a clue where I was going, just allowed myself to follow the inbuilt Satellite Navigation system towards Weston Village. Emily was strapped into the passenger seat and was chucking away to herself, looking at the sat nav screen with some interest.

"What on earth is so amusing?" I asked, my paranoia finally overcoming my good manners. Emily just looked up at me blankly, pulling a set of earphones from her ears.

"Sorry?"

"I said what's so amusing. You've been staring at that sat nav screen for the last ten minutes chucking away to yourself. What are you listening to?"

"I'm watching a DVD," she told me, confusing me even more.

"Emily that's not a DVD, that's a sat nav, you're watching a map," I told her, thinking that perhaps she'd skipped some kind of medication that morning.

"Not on my side it isn't."

I frowned as I navigated some parked cars and drove into the village itself.

"Posh car Naomi, it's a brand new Range Rover, it's got some kind of prismatic screen or something, you see a sat nav I see the television. It's actually pretty clever, I'll show you when we pull over."

I nodded absently, my mind currently occupied solely on trying to ensure that we didn't go head to head with an articulated lorry that seemed hell bent on taking over the entire road and us along with it. I ended up having to put two wheels up onto the kerb to avoid it as it thundered past; giving the grinning tosser behind the wheel the finger as he drove by. Accident thankfully avoided it was only a short hop to the Royal United Hospital and I followed the signs until we were in one of the many little car parks looking for a space; naturally though, it was a car park that is nowhere near the Accident and Emergency department.

"There's one!" Emily exclaimed excitedly, pointing wildly at the next row before squealing and wincing in pain as her injured left hand caught on the side window; her sling discarded when we discovered that it interfered with the seat belt.

"Please be careful Emily," I told her, "I know we're at a hospital, but I don't think you should injure yourself any further just because you can get treatment quickly."

"Funny," she said, cradling her wrist protectively and looking pale.

I didn't reply, merely grinned and simply drove the huge vehicle around the other parked cars and eased it into the tight space with ease.

"Wait here, don't move and keep the doors locked; I'll go get us a ticket." I told her, climbing out and walking off to the parking meter, digging my loose change out of my wallet as I walked towards the clearly labelled machine; it's warnings of clamping services and sixty pound release fees for those daft enough not to pay and display shining in the weak sun.

"Six _fucking_ Quid!" I cursed into the air, aggrieved and offended that a hospital would charge patients so much for parking in one of its own car parks. I mean it's not as if I want to be here is it? No wonder they had clampers waiting to come and jump on your vehicle, I bet there's more than a few people willing to take the risk at these prices. I mean I know they've got cheaper rates, but I've no idea how long I'm going to be here do I? So I have to opt for the eight hour ticket just in case; it's just that as far as I'm concerned six pounds thirty is a fucking rip off, and if it wasn't for the fact I was here in an emergency, I'd probably be my mother's daughter and kick up a massive fuss about it.

Grumbling discontentedly I fed the coins into the meter and pressed the green button, the ticket dropping into the plastic guarded retainer; a retainer that seems specifically designed to make it difficult for you to get the damn thing out. Finally, with no little effort, I retrieved my prize and walked back to the car, knocking on the passenger window causing Emily to jump.

"See what you mean about the screen," I said as she rolled down the window; from this side of the vehicle all you could see was a TV screen displaying some cartoon; the map of the local area totally invisible from the passenger seat. "Open the doors for me and wait there; let me put the ticket in and grab the keys and we'll be off."

I climbed up into the cab of the Range Rover on the drivers side and placed the adhesive part of the ticket onto the front windscreen; putting it clearly on display to stop the overeager clamping firms that operated in these places from sticking their own ticket onto the car. Switching off the ignition, killing the internal screens, I slammed the door and made it round to the passenger side just in time to help Emily from her seat.

"I'm not incapable Naomi," she said as I grabbed her good arm and eased her down.

"No but you are short, and injured; and as it's my job to make sure you don't get injured any more than you already are. I thought you might need help reaching the ground, this is after all a big car."

"Fuck off," she said good naturedly as she closed the door behind her. "Seeing as you've been responsible for both of my injuries so far, I find that kind of ironic."

"Me?" I asked with my very best fake incredulous voice echoing around the car park, "I've done nothing but save your ass this week Miss Fitch."

"Yes you Naomi," she replied with a slight grin appearing on her pale face. "Since I met you I've been thrown around the back of a car spraining my wrist and I've been hit by a bloody big oak door probably breaking it. Both times you've been involved in my injury; you really are a hazard to my health Miss Campbell."

"Really Miss Fitch," I replied, grinning back. "Well since I've met you I've been involved in a fist fight leaving me with a very attractive black eye that is costing me a fortune in makeup to cover. I've been chased across half of Wiltshire, shot at by terrorists, been covered in bits of broken glass that cut me in a hundred different and _very_ painful places. I've been soaked through by rain, frozen half to death and I've broken my brand new car. Not to mention being stuck in a dark room with you thinking a sniper's going to finally get me _and_ being outed to the entire country by my ex thanks to your bloody sister. I've had a shotgun pointed at me by your mother, who's lovely by the way, I've been hit on at your party by your sister's husband and I've thought I was going to be blown to bits because of your stupid brother."

I took a breath and enjoyed the amused smirk on her face before continuing before she could get a word in edgewise.

"Frankly Miss Fitch, I'm absolutely convinced that you, or your family, are going to end up killing me you know…you're all bloody dangerous!"

"You just don't appreciate us Naomi that's all it is."

I rolled my eyes at her, resulting in a chuckle, "Oh yeah, that's _all_ it is Miss Fitch."

I gestured grandly for her to step past me, sweeping my arm as I bowed. "Come on then, let's get you in. Though why you can't go to a private hospital I don't know; you're not exactly short of a few bob are you?"

"Doesn't work like that Naomi, I still need to go to A&E for this kind of thing. It's only afterwards if I need further treatment that the whole BUPA thing kicks in. Besides, _you_ can't take the piss, you'll have private medical insurance as well won't you?"

I shrugged, not really knowing if I did or not, and held open the door to the hospital, wincing at the slightly antiseptic smell that issued forth. It reminded me all to clearly of my stay at Camp Bastion with its starched sheets and bleached floors.

"Thanking you," Emily said as she slipped inside and we worked our way through the labyrinth of corridors; following the red signs on the walls and trying to make our way across the sprawling mess towards A&E. Finally, after what seemed a veritable cross country route march, we found ourselves in the fabled Accident Department, our quest complete. I sat Emily down on one of the hard plastic seats and went up to the counter to register her, taking a number from the ticket machine as if we were in a supermarket; and then sat down next to her as we waited for her to be seen, kicking our heels and staring into space.

There's something undeniably scruffy about NHS A&E departments, they're clean and tidy and surprisingly modern don't get me wrong; but there's an underlying scruffiness that pervades them, as if the sheer volume of people that go through them simply knock off the nice sharp edges and leave everything looking just a little jaded. This place is no different, it's clean, it's smart, it's even pretty modern; but it just looks drab. In fact it feels glum; as if the misery and pain of the visitors has sunk into the very brickwork of the room. It's leaving me depressed; and the long wait, staring at that electronic display watching the numbers slowly turn over, isn't helping my mood.

"You bored yet Naomi?"

I nodded absently, thinking of half a million things that I'd rather be doing than sitting here; one of them being 'getting shot at by terrorists'. I am bored, I'm _really_ fucking bored, we've been waiting for just over half an hour and the number on the board has only just moved closer to the '56' I'm holding on Emily's behalf.

"Why don't you go back to that shop and get something to read? I'll be fine here on my own."

I turned my head to look at her, she was looking a bit brighter than she had been in the car, so I assume that the pain from catching her wrist has eased off. She doesn't look in any way inconvenienced by the sitting around; in fact she looks amused.

"No," she said grinning inanely at me; "I guess you're not much of a gossip magazine reader are you, more 'guns and ammo monthly' kind of girl."

I went to protest but was cut off by her linking her good arm through mine as we sat, and nudging me with her shoulder.

"Did you mean it before by the way?" she asked cryptically. "What you said when we were running?"

"Did I mean what?" I asked carefully, wondering what she meant and where this was going.

"Did you mean it when you said I was pretty, or was it just your usual flattery."

I sat up straight and she quickly removed her arm from mine, looking away from me as she did so.

"I don't recall calling you pretty," I told her.

"You did, you said you can't help getting flattered when you're kissed by a pretty girl."

"Oh, that." I said momentarily lost for words as I backtracked our conversations in my head, only to discover she was right. "Er, yes I did mean it. I wouldn't have said it otherwise. Believe it or not Emily you are actually a very attractive young woman."

She grinned and then looked down as she blushed at my words which made her even more pretty in my mind. After five or six heartbeats she lifted her eyes to mine and was about to speak when suddenly the automated counter interrupted her thoughts by announcing her number; and before I realised it, we were off to the triage room to finally see that most elusive of beasts, a NHS doctor.

_'I wonder what she was going to say.' _I thought to myself, not for the first time.

o+o+o

Two and a half hours, and three of those elusive doctors later we're back in the car park wondering where the day has gone. Following the triage Emily was taken through to the main area where we sat and waited for yet another Doctor to check her over. From there she was passed down to the X-Ray department, and then finally back to the main area again for a third Doctor to 'interpret' that grainy black and grey image.

"A minor, what we refer to as a simple, fracture Miss Fitch," she'd been told by the smug official. Nothing we need to do really, apart from immobilise it with a cast and give you some good, strong painkillers to help you sleep."

"I don't take painkillers," she told the Doctor resolutely, "ever!"

"Well that's entirely up to you Miss Fitch," she replied looking unconcerned at her stance, "but I can tell you that pain will simply lengthen the healing process and make things more uncomfortable for you in the long run. Right, I'll arrange for you to be plastered up and you can be on your way. Though you will have to go easy on that arm. No driving and no heavy lifting and nothing but light duties at work. I'll give you a note for your employer if that's a problem."

Emily just smiled and shook her head. "That's ok Doc, I'm in charge so that won't be an issue."

"Right," came the reply," well if you do need anything get in touch with your local GP. My best advice Miss Fitch is to rest the arm and take your painkillers." She turned to me then.

"If you could make sure Miss Fitch takes two of these every four hours her healing will go a lot easier. I assume you'll have more influence over her than I do. I'm afraid you're going to have to take a lot of the strain off your girlfriend's shoulders over the next six to eight weeks or so. I think she's the sort to try and do everything herself and she really shouldn't, not if she wants to heal properly."

I opened my mouth to tell her how wrong she was about our relationship when Emily reached over and took my left hand in her healthy one, linking our fingers together and squeezing tightly.

"Nomi's been brilliant already Doc," she said; a fake look of adoration on her face. "So there's no worries in that regard. I'm sure she'll look after me."

I gave her my best death stare as she smiled at me, her eyes twinkling with mirth.

"Good, well Miss Fitch I'll just make arrangements for that arm to be put in a cast and you'll be free to go home, if you'll just wait outside in the waiting area, someone will call you. Goodbye now."

We'd had a small disagreement over that little incident as we sat waiting to be called. Mainly because I'd rather indignantly asked her what she thought she was doing.

"Naomi it was easier than explaining everything, no harm done."

"Well don't do it again Emily, I don't think it's funny."

"Oh come on, it was great; it was totally worth it to see your face when she called you my girlfriend and I took your hand, it was like a real 'rabbit in the headlights' moment. I thought you were going to run out of that cubicle screaming, it was hilarious."

I snorted at her and then ignored her for the rest of the time, allowing myself to be distracted by the wall mounted TV and it's constant barrage of noise. I was a little bit annoyed with her for acting like that, and for teasing me about it. It felt as if she had been taking the piss out of me. One drunken kiss does not give her the right to try and humiliate me like that, no matter how good it might have felt to have her hold my hand, or to see her looking up at me in that way, or to...

'_Stop it Naomi, stop it now."_

"You're mad at me again aren't you Naomi?"

I sighed at that little girl lost voice, delivered from a carefully bowed head and eyes that looked up at me through lowered lashes and a mouth that's formed into a very deliberate pout. It's all an act, I know it's all an act, I know she's just playing me, but it seems I'm powerless to resist it as I roll my eyes dramatically before breaking out into a broad grin.

"Well, I was Miss Fitch, but frankly it's hard to be mad with someone as manipulative as you."

"Me?" she asked innocently. "Manipulative? I have absolutely no idea what you mean Miss Campbell."

"You definitely take after your father with your tenacity Emily, you like to win and you'll do whatever it takes to achieve that; even if it means manipulating someone. I can see that clearly." I saw her eyes harden at the comparison with Rob; still a touchy subject there I feel, despite her obvious love for him. Rapidly I began digging to try and get out of the hole I'd found myself in.

"Yeah, you're like your dad in some ways; but it's strange though, you're more like your mother in personality."

"What, I'm lovely? You said mum was lovely when we were in the car park."

"Yeah I did didn't I? I like your mum, she's refreshingly honest; it's nice, most of the people I've had to protect in the past have been horribly false."

"So I'm refreshing too?"

"Are you just fishing for compliments today Emily?" I asked her, wondering where she was trying to lead me and what she really wanted.

"I don't fish Naomi, but I do investigate. I'm trying to find out what you really think about me. I _think_ I know you, but then every time I think I have you all mapped out you surprise me with something new."

"Well you could try just asking me things directly Emily, I'm just a squaddie remember, I don't do clever stuff."

"You stop that right now!" she said fiercely. "You will not put yourself down again like that. You're a good, smart person Naomi Campbell; My dad thinks the sun shines out of your arse and won't hear a word said against you, my mum happens to think you're the best thing since sliced bread and even my sister thinks you're ok. Fucking hell Naomi you're probably more popular in my family than I am."

"Yeah well, they don't know me do they? Look Emily, I appreciate the kind words I really do, but you don't know me and you can't have me 'all mapped out'. We've known each other for what, less than a week, four days in fact? and we've only had two or three meaningful conversations in all that time; and I'm surprised you can remember the last one, you were that drunk."

She stared at me, looking hurt at my comment before nodding appraisingly and smiling.

"You're absolutely right, we don't really know each other do we Naomi?, I don't really know you at all; apart from the fact that I know about your dad being a prick, your injuries, your ex-girlfriend. I know about how scared you were on your first tour in Iraq and how brave you are when you come under fire. I know you have nightmares about it all, and I know that you lost someone that you loved more than _anyone_ you've ever loved before or since; and I know that that's affected you, scarred you more than bullets ever will."

She paused for breath, holding eye contact with me, reaching out her hand to touch me gently on the cheek, retaining my gaze before starting again.

"I know that you're honest and honourable; you're fiercely loyal, both to the people you know and towards everyone involved in the armed forces. I know you're smart, you don't get a fucking 2:1 doing your work in a combat zone without being intelligent and you're extremely modest, too fucking modest for your own good actually. I doubt you've ever told anyone about the things you've done; I bet even Amy doesn't know a tenth of the things that you've done, the lives you've probably saved.

So no Naomi, I guess I don't really know you at all; but the person I do think I know, the person I've tried to work out by adding up all the little pieces I've learnt in the last four days. Well she's actually a very good person and she deserve all the plaudits that my family gives her. Whether she likes it or not."

I sat in the hard plastic chair and stared at her, it's probably not very attractive but my jaw's on the floor. How the fuck has she managed to discover all _that_ about me in four fucking days. I mean, it's not much, it's not even a tiny percent of me really but it's enough. Actually it's quite a lot and it's really fucking scary.

"So there," she said sticking out her tongue at my shell shocked expression, "that's what I've learnt in four days, it's going to be an interesting twelve months isn't it Naomi? I think we'll learn all sorts of things about each other in that time, as long as you give us a chance to be friends; and you can start by telling me what the writing on your back means, the script that's next to those beautiful dragons."

'Friends', I latched onto the word with two handed relief. She wants to be friends; well that's ok, I can work with that. I can be friendly, hell that'll probably be enough. But friendly doesn't mean opening myself up, no matter what she thinks.

"Miss Emily Fitch" a stentorian voice called out from one of the small side rooms. "Miss Emily Victoria Fitch?"

"That'll be you," I told her, grateful for the distraction. "Go get 'em tiger!"

o+o+o

A little later we're walking back to the 'blue' car park; as Emily has helpfully, if rather sarcastically pointed out after I admitted I had no idea where we'd parked. I'm doing my best to avoid laughing as one Emily Fitch, complete with a short white plaster cast covering her wrist and forearm is waving her arm under my nose with a face like thunder and eyes like sparkling jewels.

"I hate you Naomi Campbell, I want you to know I'm blaming you entirely for this." She spat, waggling her fingers under my nose.

"Emily," I said trying to defend myself once again as I helped her into the car and leaned across her to buckle her in. "It's not my fault you didn't get proper treatment for that wrist. If you had done as I'd suggested when we pulled into that hotel car park and gone to hospital _before_ we got to London, none of this might have happened."

"No Naomi, none of this might have happened if you hadn't deliberately hit me with that door this morning. All because I'm better than you at running and you were sulking because I wasn't stupid enough to go swimming with you in that fucking ice bath dad calls a pool. Now you're sulking because you know I won't race you again until my wrist's healed because it would give you an advantage."

I know she's joking about. I can tell she's goading me, trying to get a reaction out of me for her own amusement; but it's not going to work. Not today anyway. Settling myself into the plush leather seat of the car I simply pulled on my seatbelt and looked across at her, holding her glare knowingly until finally, I spoke.

"I was _not_ sulking about that Emily, and I didn't hit you deliberately with the door. If I was planning on _cheating _to win the race I'd have tripped you while you ran, and probably got your leg as well as your wrist broken. That way you may have had a chance at winning that bet. At least now you can build up your fitness levels to match mine, slowcoach."

She stared at me her lips twitching uncontrollably as she fought to hide her amusement. I knew I had her with my absurd statement. I knew from the look in those bold, brown eyes that she couldn't hold onto her fake indignation any longer; and I cruelly held that gaze as steadily as I could until, as I knew she would, she broke down into peals and peals of golden laughter.

.

.

.

**A/N** - So there you go, Naomi's twin dragons, finally, and I hope they were worth it. Oh and before Hawke or anyone else asks; yes, one day you will find out about the tattoo on the bottom of Naomi's left foot and yes that was the other one she was referring to.

Right now will you go bugger off and read PfP or something, some of us have got some cleaning up to do around here!


	24. Shooting, Sacking and Shopping

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent and a distinct lack of awesomeness!

Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which still makes me very upset but not as much as before).

**Authors Note **– Hello all you nice people.

Firstly can I take this opportunity to welcome the United States Armed Forces to the 21st Century...well done you! I'm pretty sure Sarge would be proud. Personally, I don't care what or who you are, if you'll stand up for your country you deserve your country's respect, not it's condemnation... oops sorry politics, time to leave...

I was kinda blown away about the tattoo comments guys, thanks. I was hoping that I'd found a way to symbolise how I saw Gina and Naomi's relationship, looks like I done good!

For the people that asked me about Gina, yes we'll be examining Naomi's relationship with her as we go through the story, but as a teaser I have a little treat in next week's episode for you.

Finally...(yes finally) Congrats to Serroi for spotting Naomi's little name slip last week, amazing what that girl picks up from little notes isn't it (-:

Anyway, back to the plot, and chapter 24...can't believe we're here already and it's _still_ only Saturday (-:

**Chapter 24 – Shooting, Sacking and Shopping**

Fitch Manor was virtually empty when we got back from the hospital, it was mid afternoon and almost everyone was already gone; in fact it took us ages to find anyone in the house at all. Emily had gone searching from room to room looking for signs of her parents, I made a more discrete search by heading along the corridor to the control room and setting up in there; watching on the screens as she dashed from place to place.

It's funny, but when she's here and there's no-one about to judge her; it's like she's a little kid again, or at least that's how I see it, sprinting down the corridors and skidding to a halt next to doorways before poking her head in and calling. Watching her run around with that cast on her arm is like how I would imagine going back in time would be, except that she's anything but a small child; small yes, but a child?

Definitely not.

I smiled as I remembered app the little jibes and digs we'd made to each other on the way back from the hospital, her amused banter at my absurd argument that she'd be able to use her broken wrist to her advantage; to get fitter in her gym so she might have a chance of beating me in this race she had planned. For most of the entire journey back to Fitch manor she'd been taking the piss out of me for that and I didn't mind a bit; it felt good to be able to 'fight' like that, neither of us taking anything seriously. It was good, it was right and it reminded me of a happier time in my life, with a person I could do the same with, before a fucking sniper took his life.

As I watched her dash from room to room I pulled my phone from out of my pocket and read my messages, the first was from the office, asking if I wanted them to give Amy my mobile number. Helen suggesting that she suspected that I wouldn't and that she had already fobbed her off, but wanted to check. Quickly I replied confirming my desire to keep Amy well and truly out of my life and thanked Helen for covering for me.

The second message was from Andy, asking what time I wanted our team meeting, again I quickly sent a message in reply, confirming the time and flicked down to the third. The third message explained a lot of things, the third message was from Cook.

'_Naomi,_

_Effy and I are getting a ride back to London with Rob, I can't resist a trip in luxury and as he's flying home Effy and I thought it would be a good idea to accept his invitation. Rob asks if you wouldn't mind taking Emily back in that Range Rover you've borrowed. I know another drive back may not be top of your priority list right now Naomi but I'm sure I don't need to remind you that you're on his payroll and on her timetable now; it's no longer a favour Naomikins, we got ourselves the big deal babe, hit pay dirt, struck the mother lode and it's all down to you being her fucking superhero! _

_I'll get the office to liaise with Emily's PA so we can plan out the security for her trips, but for now a huge well done and thanks for getting us properly in here. I doubt I'd have pulled off the deal without what you've done. Keep doing what you do best Blondie and everything will be great, I just know it_

_Remember to go through JJ for __anything__ and __everything__ you need, Eff and I are off home to the States for a bit on Monday, so it'll be a while till we meet again; probably when you and Emily come over for the Arms Expo. Until then, remember you're doing a great job Naomi and remember what I told you; you are allowed to take that very English stick out of your ass and relax a little. There's a difference between relaxed and being careless._

_If you need anything give me a call, anytime._

_Cookie_

_PS Effy says 'grow some bollocks' whatever that's supposed to mean. Personally I think you've got bigger balls than some of the guys I served with, but I'm not arguing with her, besides she's probably right, she usually is; so perhaps you should.'_

I scanned through the message again before putting the phone back into my pocket and leaving the control room, sighing at the thought of another long drive back to 'the smoke' along the fucking M4; even if it would be in the luxury of the monster truck that was parked outside.

Nope, Cook was right, I didn't fancy that at all.

o+o+o

I caught up with Emily in the huge room we'd had breakfast in, where she was talking to her brother.

"What the fuck were you thinking James?" I heard her say as I waited outside the door, hand raised ready to knock but no doing so; deciding that a bit of _'intelligence gathering'_ was called for again.

"Wasn't thinking Sis, didn't really care at the time." I heard him sniff disdainfully. "Besides, I don't like to think, life's simpler if you don't think about things all the time...you should try it once in a while Ems."

"Fuck you James. Jesus you scared the shit out of me last night little brother, Naomi thought you were a fucking suicide bomber or something."

"Who's Naomi?" he asked, "I don't remember a Naomi."

"Well if you'd been _sober_ then perhaps you'd remember a bit more of last night; or perhaps if you'd come down to breakfast with the rest of us. I think it upset mum that you were home and didn't come down."

"Oh well pardon me for having a hangover. I didn't feel like facing the family inquisition over what I'm doing up at Uni just so I could have something to eat; so I got Andrew to bring me breakfast in bed. But that's not answering my question Sis, who is this Naomi bird you're on about, and why would she think I was a suicide bomber for fucks sake?"

"Naomi's my new bodyguard, it was her that covered up for you last night after you crashed into the front steps. Which is _why _she thought you were a fucking suicide bomber you twat!"

"I crashed the car?" I heard him say, incredulity in his deep voice. " Fuck, I _thought_ I woke up aching this morning, and I've got a few bruises I can't explain! Fucking hell...did I hurt anyone?"

"Thankfully no James, no-one was hurt this time, well no-one but you and the wall outside that is; next time you might not be so lucky."

I knocked on the door and opened it to see her ruffling his hair affectionately.

"Fucks sake James," she said pulling him into a one armed hug, "you've got to snap out of this shit you know? Stop doing stupid things like drinking and fucking driving, we won't be able to protect you forever. How long is this going to go on for?"

"Until they leave me alone Ems, until they realise that Fitch fucking Industries isn't going to be a part of my future."

I paused in the doorway, before walking in as Emily beckoned to me.

"Naomi, come and meet my stupid idiot of a brother. James, this is Naomi, my newly appointed guardian angel."

"Right, you're the one from the news aren't you?" he said extending his arm to shake my hand, "The one with the unfortunate name."

"That's me," I said shaking his hand, ironically the one I'd kicked last night, I could see the ugly bruise starting to form even now. "Pleased to meet you Mr Fitch."

"Seriously don't, Mr Fitch is the asshole I have to call dad Naomi; please just call me James."

"Not Madame Madeleine?" I asked with a faint smile, testing the waters.

"Not today, I only become her on special weekends and then only for a laugh. I believe I owe you my thanks Naomi, Emsy tells me I was out of order last night and you covered for me. Sorry if I was a prick, it's a long story that I won't bore you with."

"All part of the service James, it's my job to make sure you and your family are safe, though I may have to get you a driver in future if you feel like a drink though. You've made a nice mess of the front of your car, it was barely drivable."

"Yeah," he said ruefully. "Emily said I crashed it, not that I remember much about that. Has mum or dad seen it yet?"

I shrugged, I honestly don't know if they had, but I'm hoping the fact that I'd driven it away might have bought him some time.

"It's ok James," Emily told him, patting him on the shoulder," Naomi hid it behind the garage workshop last night and Mum told me at breakfast that she's arranged for it to go to the dealership after dad leaves for London. It'll be repaired before he sees it so don't panic."

"Mum's a star, I must remember to go and tell her that," he said, sitting on one of the chairs and relaxing, his arms thrown over the carved wooden back.

"Where is she anyway?" Emily asked, looking at her phone, "in fact where is everyone? This place was heaving before we left now there's no-one around."

"Dad's fucked off thankfully, took a couple of people with him in the chopper. Your PA and her boyfriend have gone as well, they gave Katie and Gareth a lift back to Bath on the way. Gareth's apparently got _'some pretty hardcore training yeah' _and Katie's planning to stay there and work from home for a while; I think she's actually been missing the halfwit, weird as that may seem. I have no idea how she can stand being near him, obnoxious little creep."

His face pulled into a sneer as he described Katie's husband as a creep. Emily nodded her agreement at that; I take it that the family shares my opinion of Gareth Brace.

"Mum's down in the south gardens, she told me to tell you to come down before you leave. Something about teaching her a lesson or something weird like that, I wasn't really listening." He paused and looked up at Emily. "I thought you were staying for a few days Sis, that's why I drove down. I wanted to see you. I haven't seen you in ages, since New Year in fact; and I missed you."

"I missed you too James, but do I really scare you so much that you had to stop for a load of booze before you arrived?"

"_You_ don't Sis, but then you've always understood haven't you. The closer I got to this place the more I got worried. I stopped off in the village for a quick one, a bit of the old Dutch courage, and met a couple of my old mates. One thing led to another and well...you know what happened. Anyway, enough about my stupidity; are you staying or are you leaving today?"

Emily looked over at me; I was trying to stay out of the conversation, stood back from the pair of them in the old 'at ease' stance.

"What do you think Naomi, do you mind if we stay here for another day or so?"

"My time is yours Miss Fitch," I told her formally causing her to frown at me before she realised that we technically had company. "Mr Cook told me to work to your timetable, so if you want to stay that's fine. I'll probably need to pop out and buy a few things to see me over, clothes wise that is, but that's not an issue either; I'm sure there'll still be somewhere open by the time my meeting's finished."

"What time's that?" she asked, frowning at my words before again looking at the clock on her phone.

"Not sure, depends on how much arguing me and the boys do. But I've arranged it to start at three thirty." I told her and inwardly groaned as her eyes lit up, knowing what was coming.

"Cool, the Southgate centre is open till seven on a Saturday night so there's no problem there. That way we can go and see mum for a bit now; she wants another lesson from you according to James. Then you can have your meeting and we can head off for a bit of shopping. I'll be able to pick up some new clothes and stuff as well while we're at it."

I caught the amused look in James Fitch's eyes as his sister started to discuss the different things she needed to buy. Her discourse was eventually interrupted by the sound of his laughter as I silently replied with nothing but rolled eyes.

o+o+o

Jenna was as enthusiastic as ever as she pounded clay after clay into dust. I'll give her credit; she learns quickly, takes instruction well, and has a real desire to get things right. It's interesting, she told me that Rob was competitive, however she's the same; Jenna Fitch likes winning, and to her every pulverised clay is a signal of her success.

To my surprise though, as well as her Purdey shotgun, she'd brought an expensive looking rifle down to the private range; and after twenty minutes of shotgun tuition she pushed it into my arms.

"I thought _you'd_ like to get some practice in Naomi, if you're going to beat James in that competition he was on about. Can't help you with pistols or that combat range thing I'm afraid, but I had Andrew dig out one of Rob's rifles and we've set up a target at the end of the field, I'm not sure if that's too far."

I squinted down range to see some small targets set up on hay bales in front of a raised bank of ground that would act as an effective backstop. They were far enough away to be more than challenging; I'd never been much of a marksman when it came to the long rifle stuff. Unlike Cook I didn't have the patience to be a sniper, I was always a kick in the door and throw in the flash bang kind of soldier. I didn't have the finesse to be anything but 'in your face'.

"It's only a .22 hunting rifle I'm afraid Naomi, but I suppose it's better than nothing."

"It'll be fine Jenna, I appreciate the thought, thank you," I said, hefting the rifle and opening and clearing the beautifully oiled action. It was a nice example of a .22 rim-fire hunting rifle, with a stubby silencer screwed onto the carbine barrel and fitted with a large and expensive looking scope. All in all a lovely little rifle, not my taste I have to admit, but it would definitely do the job.

"Well, I do have an ulterior motive Naomi, I've always wanted to shoot a rifle well and no-one's ever shown me how, so I was hoping for a few pointers again."

I grinned across at her, that didn't surprise me for a moment. I could imagine Jenna down here with this rifle, pounding away and eventually getting bored and it ending up in that stable that Emily mentioned yesterday.

"Sounds like a fair deal Jenna, I told her , "what do you want to know?"

"Everything Naomi, I want to know everything. See if you can't teach me to be better at this than my husband, that'll really annoy him!"

I was actually disappointed when I had to leave to meet with Andy and Simon, it had been a great feeling, simply target shooting again. After five minutes spent zeroing in the sights onto the target I found that the old skills were still with me, as was the old lack of patience; and that had begun to annoy me.

"Shit," I'd shouted as I'd squeezed another shot wide of the bull's-eye, dropping into the seven ring.

"What's the matter Naomi?" Emily had asked from where she was sitting at the back of the hut, head buried in a book she'd pulled out of her handbag; her plaster cast hand obviously making holding it difficult.

"I'm shit at this, that's what's up. I've never been any good at target shooting like this."

"Well you're much better than I am dear," Jenna had told me, looking up from the binoculars we were using to spot our shots. "Try again."

I took a steadying breath and settled down into the prone position again, feet flat and pointing out, body relaxed and my full awareness focused on the weapon in my hands and the target ahead. Slowly I eased the sights around until I could make out the ten ring, the tiny dot in the centre of the target. I could barely see it properly at this distance, let alone make out the tiny numbers as I brought the crosshairs to bear. Taking a rough estimation for the wind, watching how the grass blew on top of the bank behind my target, I began to slowly squeeze the trigger, concentrating on my breathing and my target awareness; feeling as the trigger reached its catch point and pausing, settling myself ready to fire. When, and only when, I felt my body was ready to release the shot did I pause my breathing, almost mid-breath, steady the sights and gently squeeze the trigger once more; completing the action and feeling the rifle kick into my left shoulder as the bullet was released and sped towards the target.

"Jesus I suck at this," I said, frustrated at my own failure as I saw a new hole appear just to the left of the nine ring. "I'm going to completely fucking embarrass myself at this bloody competition Cook's set me up for."

"It's all about practice Naomi, you've taught me that." Jenna said with her best, reassuring tone. "You just need to relax and practice; I'm sure it will come back to you. You're welcome here anytime you want to get some shooting done, especially as that'll mean my daughter over there will be here with you. I don't get to see her nearly as much as I'd like."

I ejected the spent shell from the bolt action operation and checked the rifle as clear before handing it back to Jenna with a forced smile.

"Thanks Jenna, thanks for the invite and the opportunity to shoot. I'm afraid Miss Fitch there sets my schedule, but if I get the chance I'd love to come back and practice; you never know, maybe I'll get as good as you with those clays."

She beamed with pride as she placed the rifle onto the shooters table in front of her and picked up her Purdey once more.

"It's likely going to be a week or so before I can come back up again mum," Emily said looking up from her novel for the first time in ages, pulling off her ear defenders. "I'll make sure we come before we leave for the States though; which reminds me, Naomi is your passport up to date?"

"My passports fine Miss Fitch, I just need to go and dig it out of storage. Right if you'll both excuse me I've got a meeting to attend to sort out the security team for this place. Are you going to wait with your mother Miss Fitch or are you coming back to the house?"

"I think I'm going to wait down here, I doubt I'll be in any danger with Jenna 'dead-eye' Fitch here. Besides, as she's just, less than subtly, hinted that I don't spend enough time with her, I thought now might be a good time for some mother and daughter bonding. I'll come and find you in a bit and you can drive us over to Bath for that shopping trip; seeing as I'm now incapacitated."

She waved her plaster cast at me with a broad grin. "The very thought fills me with anticipation Miss Fitch," I told her, smiling slightly as she stuck her tongue out at me.

"Will I see you both for dinner tonight?" Jenna asked, watching our interplay with some interest.

"I thought we could grab something on the way home mum, we might be a bit late back for dinner."

"Nonsense," Jenna said clapping her hands together, "it's only you two, James and me home for dinner so we can eat whenever. I'll have Andrew arrange something fantastic for us for about half-eight, perhaps nine o'clock, have a nice late supper. Naomi, is there anything you especially don't like?"

"Don't worry about me Jenna, I'll sort myself out. You should have a family meal. As you just said, you don't get to see Miss Fitch all that often; and I assume it will be the same with your son. You should all spend the time together, as a family, without me interfering."

My words were received with a frown from both of the Fitch women and I instinctively knew I was about to be ambushed again.

"Naomi, you're practically family already," Jenna told me her face fierce. "You saved my Emily's life and I want you at dinner tonight, we both do; don't we Emily?"

"Absolutely," Emily said, "It's a great idea to get us all together mum. You can't say no Naomi, that's an order."

I raised an eyebrow at her 'order' and watched in hidden amusement as she looked away blushing and stammered over her next words.

"Well, ok…it's a request not an order," she looked up at me, those brown eyes guarded. "Consider it a personal request though, from me _and_ my mother; and we'll both be very upset if you didn't say yes."

'_Ambushed,'_ I thought my instincts vindicated._ 'Pinned down by the crossfire and caught like a rat in a trap.'_ I had nowhere to go and no answer to give that would get me out of a Fitch Family dinner. I couldn't even argue that I had to patrol the grounds, like I had at their dinner at the 'Blue Elephant', because the team were on duty as normal. Totally cornered, there was nothing left to do but nod helplessly and watch the same, self satisfied, shit-eating grin paint itself all over their faces.

"Right that's settled then," Jenna announced happily. "So is there anything you won't eat Naomi?"

"Not keen on fish Jenna, nor asparagus and artichokes for that matter; but other than that I'll eat just about anything really."

"Yes, I imagine being in the army you've eaten things that Emily and I would run away from screaming."

I looked across at Emily, fixing my gaze on her carefully before replying.

"You could say that Jenna, I'm positive there are things I've eaten that I doubt you'd want to know about. Certainly not at a dinner table anyway."

I casually allowed my tongue to brush across my top lip, making sure Emily could see it, holding her gaze as she had held mine that morning; trying to send her a message.

_'See Emily, this is who I am; you want to play games around your mother, well I can play too. Let's see who get's totally embarrassed first shall we?'_

To my great satisfaction she blushed bright red and looked away, burying her nose into her book again. I held back the smirk that was desperate to emerge onto my face; my revenge for breakfast's little eye raise was now complete, and once again Jenna Fitch was completely clueless.

Result!

o+o+o

Thirty minutes after sitting down with Andy and Simon we were pretty much sorted. I'd dialled into the office and got hold of JJ as we spoke, pulling together an impromptu conference call with two my new shift leaders. Andy and Simon agreeing to look after the team that were already here at Fitch Manor.

I'd arranged for generally minimal security for most of the time with JJ recommending contract staff being brought in from a Close Protection affiliate company as and when required. I'd also arranged for CPO's to be assigned to Jenna, Rob, Katie and James who could act as team leaders as well. Basically we had a skeleton staff that we needed to build on in key areas.

To my pleasure it was universally agreed that Kevin was to be consigned to the history books; everyone deciding that he was simply not cut out for the level of professionalism that we, and I, expected. The final nail in his oversized coffin being my report to JJ on what I had found him doing at the party, I could hear his disgust over the tiny speaker as he questioned me about exactly what I'd seen.

"No Sarge, I think you're absolutely correct; I don't think we'll be extending a contract to Kevin, your relative or not Simon. I'm sorry but he just won't fit in with the team behaving like that."

I thought briefly about my use of the control room to spy on Rob and Emily, and what had happened in the summerhouse. Quickly I managed to convince myself that as unprofessional as both events were, at least I wasn't using the cameras to letch over a total stranger; I could at least tell myself I had a good reason for the spying.

Andy had swiftly recommended an ex-copper that he knew as a possible replacement for Kevin; someone that could work as well in the field as she could in the control room. With JJ's blessing I agreed to give her a trial, as long as she passed Cook's rigorous security checks and JJ's interview that was. In the interests of fairness I asked Simon to judge her performance and give me and JJ feedback on it. I'd obviously do the same when I was at the property, but judging by the appointments that kept appearing in my diary every time I picked up my phone, that might not be for a while.

"Is everyone happy with those arrangements then," I asked, getting nods from around the table and a 'yes' from the other end of the phone.

"Right then, thanks guys. Do you want to work out who's covering what shift and when or do you want to sort it out with whomever JJ sends up for Jenna?"

"Well I don't mind switching to nights," Andy said looking across at his colleague for an objection. "My missus is a nurse so she works shifts so it really doesn't bother me."

"Not really arsed either Sarge," Simon said with a grin. "It's just me at my place so no-one really cares when I come home."

"Well, we can arrange all that next week if you don't mind covering between yourselves until then. With another body on site we should be able to move you all round so you're not working days or nights constantly." JJ said from over the phone, easing one more burden from my mind.

"Sorted then, welcome aboard guys," I said, shaking both of their hands like the seasoned employee that I wasn't. "I'll catch,,,,,,,,,,, up with you both later and I'll have the FTC's issued as soon as possible for you to sign."

I waited as they left the room and then picked up the phone and turned it off speaker to speak to JJ.

"What do you think LT, will they do?"

They do sound fairly competent Sarge," he told me and I could hear the clicking of a keyboard in the background. "Actually, looking through the personnel data that Fitch Industries sent over yesterday I would say that, with the inclusion of yourself and a few key people from here we'll now have a pretty good team to cover the home and the family. I've already selected the team to look after the others. Simon, our Simon that is, oh bobbins, this is going to get complicated isn't it? Well, our Simon will be heading up North to keep an eye on young James Fitch, he sounds like he needs a calming head from what I've read."

"That he does LT," I agreed, nodding involuntarily, approving of his choice of the big, competent Welshman from the other night. "I'll keep an eye on things up here, Miss Fitch wants to stay here for another day or so before heading back to work."

"That's something else we need to talk about Sarge," JJ said, a hint of disapproval coming into his voice. I braced myself for the bollocking that was destined to arrive. I knew Cook had been too easy going when we'd spoken last night. I guess he'd spoken to JJ in private about mine and Emily's little 'tryst' as he'd called it; and as my direct commanding officer I suppose it was JJ's position to put me straight.

"We need to talk about Miss Fitch's protection rosta Sarge," He continued, throwing me totally off kilter. "Cook tells me you haven't had any kind of a break since you went up to the Fitch's on Wednesday and that includes evenings by the way. He's slightly worried that there are too many late nights and not enough breaks planned, and so am I looking at your schedule."

I could feel my whole body relax at his words, obviously I wasn't going to get a bollocking, well at least not over the phone anyway.

"Cook told me that Miss Fitch won't agree to anyone else following her around JJ," I said still a little defensively, "so there _is_ no-one to give me a break."

"Well we need to sort that, I'll have a word with Emily when I get chance, you've got to have a break Naomi, I'm not prepared to have you burn yourself out; besides," he said , his voice suddenly lightening, "Lara and I would like to invite you round for dinner soon, and she says that she wants to take you shopping again; so you'll need some free time. My wife doesn't take no for an answer, not when it comes to shopping _or_ dinner!"

I groaned at the thought, not of dinner, not of Lara, but of shopping. As sharp as he was, JJ picked up on that instantly. "I thought you got on with Lara Sarge," he said sounding a bit upset.

"I do LT," I assured him, "but you've just reminded me that I've got to go shopping with Miss Fitch in a minute. She wants to stay here for a few days and that means I need to buy a few more bits. I only packed for an overnighter. She seems kind of excited by the idea of shopping and after experiencing what she's like in shops yesterday morning I'm not sure I can go through it again."

"I'm sure you'll be fine Sarge, if you can survive a shopping trip with my wife, you can survive it with anyone, especially if you're putting your purchases on expenses; that always makes it less painful doesn't it?"

"That's true LT, that's very true. But I won't be, putting it on expenses that is. This isn't work wear, it's just more clothes for me; I didn't bring more than an overnight bag with me and if we're staying..." I left it hanging, hoping he'd see the obvious.

"Right, well…Lara would probably tell you to charge it anyway Sarge; especially as you're Cook's blue eyed girl at the moment, literally. We do still need to sort things out about cover for you and I really hate to push you on this Naomi, but you need to start looking for your own place. With your diary like it is, it might be difficult to find somewhere by James' deadline; so we need to organise things between us to make that happen. I remember what you're like Sarge, you're more likely to work yourself to death than you are to take a break and sort out your own stuff."

He's right, he does remember me; that's exactly what I'm like when there's work to do. The personal life tends to take a back step, just ask Amy...no actually don't bother; I've been on the end of one of her discussions on my work ethic and trust me, you don't want to go there. Still, even know that I can't afford to do that again; I can't put this job before absolutely everything in my life. I really can't end up homeless again, not if I want to keep this job; and not if I want to keep hold of this scrap of personal pride I've got back this week.

"Ok LT," I told him. "I get the message loud and clear. I'll call the office on Monday or Tuesday when I get back and organise things, for now though I'll just have to suck it up yeah? We haven't got much choice have we, and it's not as if I'm not used to long hours with no breaks is it? Besides, Cook told me that's exactly why he pays so well; he did tell me on my first day that this isn't a nine to five job and he's just told me that I'm very much on Emily's timetable."

"No it's not a nine to five job Naomi," he confirmed, "but that doesn't mean it's a twenty four seven job either. You need to keep that in mind."

"Speaks the man who's on the phone at four o'clock on a Saturday afternoon," I mocked him, laughing along with him softly as he chuckled at my words.

"That's very true Naomi, you were always very good at picking me up on my double standards weren't you? You were always a good NCO Naomi, you take care of your officers and the people around you, even if it means working yourself to death. Looks like some things don't change do they? Well this time it's _my_ turn to make sure we're _both_ ok, and on that note I think I'll fuck off, go and find my wife and son and start preparing our dinner. Take care Sarge, have a good weekend and please..._don't_ work too hard. Try and keep your hours to a sensible level, this isn't the Army. I'll speak to you on Monday and well arrange dinner ok?"

"Yeah. I'll look forward to it; you have a good weekend too LT, have fun with the family."

"I'm sure I will," he said; and I could hear his proud smile down the phone. "You have fun shopping with Emily."

"I'm sure I won't."

o+o+o

I didn't either; have fun shopping with Emily that is, not really.

If shopping _with_ Emily was painful; shopping for _me_, with Emily was excruciating. We have quite different tastes and she seems to think that because _she_ likes something then _I'd_ look good in it.

For some reason she keeps picking up tops that are practically backless, despite knowing I have my twin dragons on my back; despite knowing that I don't like to show them off. If that wasn't bad enough the other tops she seems to want to suggest are so low cut you could see my navel or are so slutty I just know she's taking the piss out of me.

No this is not fun at all.

Thankfully the shopping centre we're in doesn't have a huge amount of shops, well compared to the massive Westfield Centre in London, where Lara had taken me, it doesn't; and within an hour and a half we'd hit all the shops _she'd_ wanted to visit. I'm still not sure how she'd managed to turn a quick trip for some bits for _me_ into a major expedition for bits for _her_; but I'd finally got my turn to look for something

"A sports shop, you're fucking kidding me?" she practically shouted at me as I led her across the mall and through the shop's doors.

"What? I can get some comfortable stuff here." I said, picking up a dark blue polo shirt and a new grey hoody from a stand and walking over to a rack full of jogging bottoms.

"You can, but it's hardly casual stuff is it? It's more for exercising in, or slobbing around at home; you can't seriously be thinking of buying this stuff for going around in."

I looked across at her, she was stood by the doorway her arms folded across her chest looking annoyed.

"But I like this stuff," I protested, I did as well; it had been standard kit when I wasn't on active duty. It was warm and comfortable, and that's exactly what you want after wearing your combat gear all flaming day. It definitely wasn't going out gear, but perhaps it's time for me to stand my ground a little. "I like to wear what's comfortable; and besides, who cares what I dress like?"

"Naomi," she sighed, unfolding her arms, "we're going to be travelling a lot, staying in hotels and visiting different places. I have to tell you that this stuff won't get you _into_ some of the places I will be going to, let alone get you served in them. We need to spruce up your wardrobe, get you some nice smart casual clothes and some nice dressy ones as well. Especially as I'm going to insist on being inconspicuous when you're following me around. I don't want everyone looking at me like I'm a freak because I need a bodyguard…sorry, CPO."

I glared at her, knowing that what she was saying made perfect sense, knowing also that her little chat with Effy during that helicopter trip had probably resulted in this whole 'inconspicuous' thing; curse my brain and it's stupid ideas. I'd practically given her the reason to pick my clothes with my suggestion to Effy that time.

I don't really want to follow her advice, I want to do my own thing; but I guess that's just my stubborn nature taking over. I get that from my mum; I know that for a fact, after all she'd told me often enough. I am slightly suspicious about this whole 'follow me around' business. Perhaps JJ is right, perhaps I am committing too much. After all I'm her CPO not her fucking slave; though she seems to be treating me like a henpecked fucking husband if the truth be told, telling me what I should do and what I should wear.

_'Don't argue Naomi, find a diplomatic solution. Come on think…what would Freds do in this situation?'_

"Let me get myself some clothes to 'slob' about in my room then Emily, then I promise we'll go looking for some smarter things, but it's not like we're in a rush is it? We're going to be at yours for the next day or so; can't this wait until next week?"

Ok so I'm stalling for time here; not wanting to force the issue but not wanting to encourage her either. If I can get her to agree to wait, I can head out myself one night and find my own style of clothes; without the disapproving looks or the ridiculous suggestions.

"It can't Naomi, you'll need to get something. Mum might be casual at home, but breakfast and lunch are the only times when jeans and t-shirts are allowed. Dinner is strictly smart casual I'm afraid so we'll need to get you some stuff for that, she'll kill you if you turned up to dinner in that lot; even if she does think you're brilliant. Don't worry though I've seen the most perfect outfit for tonight, it'll suit you down to the ground."

She must have caught my look of distain at her suggestion, because she chuckled to herself and walked over to me. "Hey, it's not _that_ bad Naomi, be thankful dad isn't home this evening. If he were, dinner would be a formal thing, all dinner suits and evening dresses and you'd have to look really smart."

"You're having a fucking laugh," I said, nearly dropping my shopping in disbelief. She shook her head sadly.

"Dad tries to live up to the image of the country gentleman, that's why mum does the whole 'Aunt Margaret' thing sometimes. I think she's taking the piss out of him, as much as the lifestyle he loves."

She looked glum, staring off into space for a few seconds before blinking slowly and moving her eyes back to meet mine.

"Still that's enough of my family problems, I bored you with enough of that crap last night. Go and buy your 'slobbing' gear Naomi, then we're off to find you something presentable for a Fitch Family Dinner."

'_Oh boy, I can hardly fucking wait!'_

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**A/N** - and another week goes by and we're still on the same day...bored of this yet? Still only two more chapters to go and we will reach Sunday (-:

Because it's the holiday season and everyone expects to have fun I'm going to stop posting until the New Year...hope that's ok with everyone?

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OK I'm kidding, I'm well prepared for the next week or so and I promise you, the next couple of chapters will be good ones. Well I think they are anyway, storyline wise that is...no shagging! (-:

So until next time Joyous Yuletide boys and girls. If you're on holiday enjoy it, if you're not...well, try and enjoy it; and if you believe in that kind of thing, season's greetings.

Don't eat and drink too much now will you? Be safe people and lets all meet again for a coffee and yet another mince pie after Xmas

(-;


	25. Family Meals and Flashbacks

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent and a distinct lack of awesomeness!

Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which still makes me very upset but not as much as before).

**Authors Note **– Way back in August Hawke wrote in a review;

_"__I will give you permission to go over 10k if (and only if) you put more scenes like that car scene in there, (Or for... Ehh... that thing, I'm not supposed to talk about.)_

Well I've done that thing that she wasn't supposed to talk about in Chapter 23 and as we're on a nice even "5" chapter it's time for a bit of action. Over 10K because it's the holidays and I wrote this ages ago and have had _far_ too much time to mess about with it. I hope that's ok with you Hawke, and I hope you enjoy the flashbacks (-; I think it's more than time to start linking a few things back and explaining a bit more of that back story.

Oh, one little warning though, as it's the holidays and everyone's probably feeling fluffy and happy I feel I should mention that the second flashback isn't a fluffy one. Well, it's not totally fluffy and it contains the action I promised. Some people might find it a bit upsetting so if you're not sure, you know what to do.

Enjoy people.

**Chapter 25 – Family Meals and Flashbacks.**

"May I offer you a glass of wine Naomi?"

James Fitch is definitely trying to be the man of the house, though the effect is slightly ruined by the drop earrings and make up he's wearing. I shook my head and smiled politely.

Something a little stronger perhaps, or perhaps would you prefer a beer or something? I've got a few bottles of a nice Lancaster Amber I've brought down with me specially. I'm more than willing to share if that's more to your taste."

"Naomi doesn't drink James, so stop trying to ply her with your disgusting beer samples."

"You don't drink?" he asked, sounding utterly aghast. I shook my head again. "What, _ever_?"

"I gave up drinking a while back and I gave up smoking last week James." I told him kind of enjoying the look of surprise and horror on his face.

"Fuck me if you aren't just disgustingly healthy," he said wrinkling his nose animatedly. "Naomi you're totally destroying my image of the British soldier you know. I thought you were all hard charging, hard drinking types."

"We are, I was," I said smiling at the aghast look on his face.

"Jesus, don't you have any vices then, if you don't drink or smoke there's only sex and drugs left."

"And rock and roll," I said, ducking the question. Sex hasn't exactly been an option over the last few months and I don't really want to think about it. As for drugs; well regular testing in the Army, plus being in the Military Police and having to be whiter than white, meant that I hadn't touched anything harder than paracetamol since my school days.

"Yeah, because rock and roll's _such_ a good substitute for the whole sex and drugs part isn't it Naomi?" he said sarcastically

"Works for me," I told him, turning away and taking the glass of water that Emily was waving in my direction. "Thank you," I said, taking a sip.

"No problem," she replied smiling and looking across at her brother. "You have to ignore the perv here you know? James has a warped view of the world, which basically seems to revolve around drinking, smoking, doing drugs and fucking anything with a pulse."

"Emily, that's not nice."

"It's true though little brother, isn't it?" she asked, ruffling his head affectionately.

"Well just because _I _decided to enjoy my time at university instead of squirreling myself away in my rooms for the entire time being a total nerd; like _someone_ I could mention."

"I _had_ fun at uni you twat, some of us were just more _discrete_ than others."

"_Some_ of us didn't have a fucking life sis, _some_ of us were too worried about what 'daddy' would think."

"Fuck you."

"Fuck you right back..."

I tuned them both out for a moment, ignoring the banter that they so obviously enjoyed. Unconsciously I was examining the room properly for the first time today; huge windows, large drop chandeliers blaring away burning up electricity like it was going out of fashion; massive heavy drapes hanging from those massive windows, drapes that should be pulled closed and weren't. To be honest I'm feeling a little bit small and insignificant, for such a small crowd of people this was a very large room to have dinner in; after all it had hosted everyone but James for breakfast this morning and had a space or two to spare. It was extravagant and overly opulent and I hated everything about it, from the wood panelling to the paintings on the walls; from the ornate drapes to the huge oak table that dominated the room.

It wasn't a dining room, it was self styled 'Lord of the Manor' Rob Fitch's great hall; and it was a far cry from the tiny, yellow painted, four seater table that mum and I had owned at our house in Cheltenham. The one I had so many good memories of...

o+o+o

_December 25__th__ 2001 – Cheltenham, England: 10:45hrs_

_"Morning mum, Happy Christmas."_

_Mum had looked up at me with surprise as I walked into the kitchen, beaming a happy smile at seeing her up and about. I'd literally just got out of the shower after being up at an ungodly hour, being forced to go for a long run for my morning exercise instead of a swim, as all the public pools were all closed for the holidays._

_"You don't believe in Christmas Naomi Campbell, and neither do I, so stop taking the piss out of your old mum like that and come over here and me a hug."_

_I stuck my tongue out at her at her jibe before walking over, wrapping my arms around her thin shoulders and giving her a kiss. Smiling happily at her pleased reaction I bustled around making us both a drink of her favourite herbal tea. She looked old my mum, old and frail; old beyond her years in fact. The chemo hadn't been good for her and she looked a shadow of the vibrant woman that had shaped my life._

_I sat down at our battered old four seater table; it was my favourite piece of furniture in our tiny little house, one of the few things that was a source of stability in my life. It had always been there, that table, practically from my birth - no matter where we lived. I could remember sitting on this very chair, the one with the slightly broken arm, while Mum bathed my grazed knee when I'd fallen off my very first bike. I'd sat at this table when she'd explained all about the 'birds and the bee's' and the changes my body was going through as I grew up. We'd sat at this table drinking herbal tea when I'd told her that I wasn't normal, when I'd told her that I didn't fancy boys like the other girls in my class. She'd sat me down on one of these battered, wobbly chairs and comforted a crying teenager; told her that she _was_ normal and that there _wasn't_ anything wrong with how she felt._

_"You've been busy darling," Mum said looking around the kitchen at the bowls and pans that I'd carefully arranged. I _had_ been busy and I was pretty proud of myself as well. Once I'd got back from my early morning run, I'd been busy preparing our Christmas dinner, the one tradition she was comfortable with keeping, the one tradition she'd always maintained was important. _

_'Bugger the religious nonsense' she'd said to me when I was twelve. 'the so called Christmas dinner has been celebrated long before people ever thought of following Christ; it's a time for family, a time for celebration that the darkness is ending and we're starting the journey into the light. We are _not_ losing that tradition you and I. No matter how far you go in your life Naomi, and whatever you're doing, I want you here with me for Christmas. We will share a traditional meal together on Christmas day, come what may; because that's what families do.'_

_So that's what I'd done; while she'd been too sick to do anything for herself I'd arranged for everything, turkey, stuffing, vegetables, even Brussels sprouts and I fucking hated those things. I'd prepared everything so very carefully to ensure nothing went wrong; consulting TV shows and cookbooks to get as many ideas as I could. In the end I didn't need any of them, I just did what I'd seen mum do every year; I did what came naturally to me. My turkey was sitting on a bed of giblets and vegetables, slowly roasting to golden in the oven and everything else was washed, peeled and waiting to go in to the oven; waiting to be served to the greatest woman in my life. _

_The doctors had told me that mum's prognosis wasn't good; the chemotherapy wasn't working and, despite their promises for a different course of treatment in the New Year, I didn't know how long we had left together. I was devastated, of course I was, but I didn't want her to know I knew it was as bad as it was; she'd fought that cancer with every fibre of her being and she'd done it with a smile and a grin and a kind word to make sure I was going to be ok. She didn't want me to know how serious things were, I understood that; but I was going to give her the best fucking Christmas dinner she'd ever had, that _we_ had ever had. I'd blown almost every penny of my savings on buying all this stuff and it was the best thing I could have spent it on; because I made my mum smile on Christmas day and that's important to me, because it might just be our last one together._

_But that's a thought for another day, today is about me and mum and being happy together; because I love my mum and I want her to know just how much. _

_We swapped presents as I waited for the food to finish cooking. We never really made a fuss about presents; growing up it had only ever been me and her, and we couldn't really afford it if the truth be told. I was never upset by it though, it was just a fact of life, Other kids from my school got brand new bikes and computers and dolls and meaningless shit like that. I got my mother's love in food form, and more often than not a bonus gift of whatever she could afford to get me. I was truly happy to receive it, all of it; we weren't all commercial in casa Campbell, we valued the true meaning of a family Christmas._

_"I got you this mum, it's not much" I told her holding out the present it had taken me weeks, and the rest of my meagre savings, to organise, "but..."_

_Mum took the carefully wrapped present and slowly peeled off the shiny wrapping paper. I watched a tear fall from her eye as she looked down at the carefully framed images of me and her. It wasn't a big picture in fact it was only three small pictures mounted on black card in an antique looking frame. Three images of my mum and me at different times of my life. One taken when I was just a baby, her proud smile making her face light up from the restored image, one she thought had been water damaged and was beyond repair. The second image was me and her when I was six, taken on an all too infrequent family holiday; snapped by a friend as we sat in a bumper car at a funfair in Weston-super-Mare. The final image was taken before she was diagnosed, not long after I'd pulled my head out of my arse and stopped being a moody teenage brat. It was of me and her smiling together as she blew candles out on her birthday cake, in this very room; at this very table. _

_Underneath each of the pictures I'd written some simple words in silver ink to explain it all_; 'Me as your baby_, _'Me as your daughter'_, _'Me with my best friend'_. On the back of the frame I'd simply added _'To the best mum ever, I love you always, Naomi'

_It didn't look right, the back of the picture, it was splashed with teardrops from when the writing had got too much for me, but I could tell that she didn't care; I could tell with a glance at her face that she understood everything that I was trying to say._

_"You're wrong Naomi," she told me tears rolling freely, "it's so much more than 'not much'; it means absolutely everything to me, just like you."_

_She'd grabbed me again, pulling me into a weak hug. We were both crying now, unashamedly so; finally mum sniffed herself back to normal, shook her shoulders and passed me a small box from under her chair. A small box neatly wrapped in white paper covered with silver snowflakes; it's corners folded crisply like knife edges._

_"I want you to have this Naomi, I think it's time."_

_I slowly peeled off the wrapping paper to find a familiar looking royal blue box, piped with silver braid. "No," I said firmly, "No mum I can't take this, this was Gran's, she left this to you."_

_I knew what it was without having to open it, how could I not? It was our one real 'treasure', a silver and paste-sapphire necklace and earrings set that had been bought for my Gran a long time ago. It wasn't anything spectacular, you certainly wouldn't draw the crowds at the Antiques Roadshow that's for sure; but it was the closest thing we had to a heirloom, and for some reason...no, because she knew the truth about her condition, my mum was giving it to me._

_"Of course it's time Naomi, you're going to be Eighteen soon and it's time you inherited this. I was going to give it to you for your Sixteenth birthday, but I decided to wait for a bit. Now is the right time though, and we both know it."_

_She'd fixed me with a glare right there and then, as if daring me to refuse. Not that long ago I'd have taken that look as a challenge, I'd have turned the gift down flat just because; but not anymore, and definitely not at Christmas. Instead I held the box close to my chest and wiped away a tear, capturing every memory I could of my mother's happy face. She seemed totally at peace with herself as she sat at our old, tiny, kitchen table; and I wished that, for even one second, I could find that same peace in me._

_"Right then," she said matter-of-factly, placing her present down on the table, standing it upright so she could look down at it. "I think it's time for another cup of tea, don't you?"_

_As the afternoon progressed, we sat at that dented and wobbly yellow table, our plates wiped clean; and we toasted our happiness with small glasses of champagne, Mum's cornucopia of drugs not allowing her to take more than a sip. She'd barely taken anything from the serving plates I'd dished up either, but what she had taken she'd complimented me on at almost every mouthful._

_"Thank you darling," she said as I cleared up the plates ready for the washing up I was dreading. "That was absolutely wonderful. I obviously taught you something about cooking when you were growing up."_

_"Mum you taught me more than just cooking, you know that; you taught me everything, but I'm really glad you liked it. It took fucking ages though, you never told me what hard work it was making Christmas dinner!"_

_"That's my job Naomi love, it's my job to take all the hard things and make them look easy. One day, when you decide the time is right to become a mother, then it'll be your job as well."_

_She'd smiled at me knowingly, it was a weak smile but I knew what she meant._

_"If that ever happens mum, I hope I'll be as good a mother to my child as you are to me," I'd said with a small tear flowing down my cheek._

_"Naomi, whatever you do in your life, I know you'll be the best at it you can be; and wherever I am, I know I'll be bursting with pride because of it."_

_"I'll always do my best for you mum," I stammered as my heart broke at the thought of her not being there for me in the future; the tears flowing freely now, dripping from my chin and falling to stain the old wood, sinking in and staining it a dark brown where the paint had been rubbed away by time and tide. "I love you."_

_"I love you too darling," she'd said holding out her arms and pulling me into her chest; comforting me like she'd done at this very table so many times before._

_"Promise me this though dear heart, whatever you do in life, do it for yourself, not for me. Take a few chances, take a few risks, life's too short not to enjoy it Naomi, and you're a long time dead. I want you to go on through your life thinking like that. Take your own path Naomi and make it a good one, allow yourself to be happy; especially after I've gone."_

_"You're going to live forever mum, I'll make sure of that."_

_"No Naomi, that's not going to happen. I'm going to pass at some point, maybe soon, maybe years from now; who knows? But when I do, I want you to go and do all the things that you want to do. I want you to take that giant step into the unknown; best foot forward and follow your heart. You're destined for great things my girl, I knew that the moment I felt you under my heart. You are my pride and joy Naomi, you always have been. I love you so much baby girl; don't you ever, _ever_, forget it."_

o+o+o

_Fitch Manor - Present Day_

I never had, forgotten about how much my mother loved me that is; the love she had for me had uplifted me and sustained me through the rest of my life. I thought back to that happy day, our last Christmas together, as Emily and James continued their friendly squabble. Through the pang of loss that clutched at my chest and caused my eyes to well up, I found the clarity of mind to wonder how on earth the Fitch's children could have anything like the same memories as me growing up in this place. It was so huge, so impersonal; it was more like a museum than a home.

How on earth can you have that simple family intimacy that mum and I had shared, with a table that was designed to host banquets, not family dinners; a table that could seat twenty and not four?

For a second I felt sorry for Emily, Katie and James, you would think it would be lovely to grow up in such a place, with money and privilege and having everything you could possibly ask for; as a result of that small moment that appeared out of nowhere from my memory though they have my pity, because I knew I'd grown up with so much more. Mum was right as she always was, money truly isn't everything.

"Are you all right Naomi dear?"

Jenna's voice dragged me back from my memories and my thoughts and into the real world, the cold empty world where I was, once more, all alone.

"I'm fine Jenna," I told her, attempting to sound reassuring, blinking rapidly in case my eyes betrayed me. "Just lost myself for a moment there."

"Well wherever you were dear it looked like you were happy."

"I was, it was a good place."

"Well we all need one of those Naomi," she said taking me by the arm. "Come and sit down dear, dinner will be served soon."

She led me across to the table and gestured to a seat, "you sit over there Naomi, and James..._James,_" she called to her son who was still arguing good naturedly with his sister. "You sit there next to Emily, Emily you sit here next to me."

Emily and James came across to join us at the table, both looking incredibly comfortable at dining in the huge room; perhaps I was wrong, perhaps they hadn't missed as many of the small things that I had with mum as I thought. Perhaps they had grown up 'normally', perhaps they did have the same kind of happy Christmases that I'd had. I wondered, briefly, what their family meals had been like as they grew up, wondered if they'd shaped the Fitch's as much as they'd shaped me.

I stood behind my chair, as tradition sort of dictated; waiting for Emily and my host Jenna to sit down. I wasn't at all happy about my location and I couldn't help but take nervous glances over my shoulder at the large, bare, floor to ceiling windows behind me; and the dark foreboding gardens behind them. I had an itch between my shoulder blades that I simply couldn't scratch and the whole situation was making me nervous.

We had a surprisingly good homemade vegetable soup for starters, Andrew leading in one of the house's other members of staff with a large silver tureen. We even had what smelt like freshly baked bread served with it. Jenna had said she'd have something special served up for us, but this was restaurant stuff. Though as good as the food I'd been presented with was it didn't ease my discomfort.

"You're looking very smart this evening Naomi," Jenna said to me as I glanced surreptitiously over my shoulder again.

"I'm sorry?" I asked, missing the point of what she said.

"I said that you were looking very smart this evening Naomi, that top really suits you."

"Er thanks," I said, blushing a little. It was a little tight as far as I was concerned, and the deep V-cut in the front was more than a little revealing, especially judging by how often James' eyes were drawn to it. "I'm afraid I have your daughter to thank for it. Apparently she has better taste than I have."

"Yes, she does like to believe that doesn't she?" she said glancing affectionately at her daughter, who was, once again, locked in an argument with her brother.

"Still, she appears to be right this time; you do look fabulous. You don't, however, look comfortable though, is there something wrong? I know we can be a bit intimidating for new people sometimes, especially when those two, "she gestured at the quarrelling siblings once again, "get going."

"It's nothing like that Jenna I assure you," I said quickly, embarrassed that she'd noticed my looks. "You've all made me feel very welcome. I'm just a little nervous sat here that's all; I don't really like having my back to open spaces anymore."

"Oh my dear; how terribly thoughtless of me. Of course I should have asked if you would be all right sitting there; I do apologise, please forgive my ignorance."

"It's quite all right Jenna how would you know about it? It's fine, it's just a pathetic little paranoia; I'll get over it. Don't let it bother you."

"Swap with me Naomi," James said, already halfway out of his seat; his fight with Emily already dropped. "They'll be in to take away the bowls in a minute so it's not a big deal."

"No, James, really..."

"Thank you James, that's very kind of you." Jenna said, ending the conversation there. IT was with a slight sense of relief that I got up from my chair and walked around to the other side of the table; where James was stood holding his chair, easing it in under my arse as I made to sit down.

"Thank you James," I said as he sat in my old seat, watching as a shy smile came over his face. I wasn't much more comfortable sat over here to be honest. Yes the niggling feeling that someone was lining up a muzzle on the gap between my shoulder blades had gone; but the closeness to Emily was already creating its own problems for me. As she filled my wine glass with iced water and handed it over, she quite deliberately allowed her fingers to brush mine as I reached out to take it. I know she's winding me up in front of her family, seeing if I would say something in front of her mum. Saying that, I swear I could have boiled the water in the glass with simply my hand; as it was I'm sure I could see the ice melting in my glass under her grip.

"Naomi," James said as our bowls were taken away. "Katie told me that you saw lots of action in the desert when you were in the army. What was it like out there?"

"Hot," I told him taking a sip from my drink, "sometimes..."

"...cold," Emily interrupted with a smile. " That's how Naomi here described it to me last time I asked her anyway. I think she likes to be mysterious."

"Yeah, but seriously though Naomi, what _was_ it like out there? You don't have to be mysterious, you're amongst friends here."

"It's not a question of being mysterious; it's just not something I like to talk about I'm afraid James. My time in the Army isn't something I brag about you know?"

"One of the lads in my year at Uni, his brother came to meet us a few months ago when he was home. He told us all about what he and his unit had got up to in Afghanistan. He told us all about the patrols he had to do and the times they were ambushed and about loads of air strikes they'd had to call in; he told us about all the gunfights he'd been in as well. It sounded well exciting when he talked about it. I just thought you might have had some good stories to tell."

I snorted, suspecting the closest this guy had come to an ambush was being set upon by his mates in the toilets.

"It's anything _but_ exciting James, most of the time it's as boring as hell, you sit around in camp cooking and cleaning and then you go out on a patrol that lasts for hours, and if you're lucky nothing ever happens; then you get the moments of terror when the brown smelly stuff hits the fan and there's nothing remotely exciting about them. "

It was a small white lie of course, combat is terrifying...but it is a little bit exciting as well. It's only after the event, when the adrenaline has left you, that you realise just how close you might have come to getting your ticket home stamped; and Gereshk hadn't been my first brush with death.

"So you've seen the real thing Naomi," James asked excitedly, leaning forward in his seat. "Ambushes and airstrikes and all that?"

I nodded sombrely, my mind starting to wander once again without my permission...

o+o+o

_July 23__rd__ 2003 – Basra, Iraq : 12:07hrs_

_"Fucks sake Campbell, I'm literally fucking dying here. You could boil a fucking egg on the bonnet of this thing, how the fuck do people actually live here?"_

_I shrugged my shoulders at Whitey's comment and pulled on my body armour, the heavy weight of the sleeveless vest feeling reassuringly uncomfortable as I fastened it closed and checked that my pouches were firmly attached with the molle straps; bouncing up and down a couple of times on the balls of my feet to settle them into place. I was carrying the usual sort of loadout for a combat patrol; loads of ammo, med kit, some snack bars from my rat-pack, my emergency strobe light and on my back, the camelbak pouch that made carrying water so much easier and more comfortable than the old water bottles I'd used in basic training. We were pretty much left to organise our own kit out here, and more than a few of us had purchased the odd extra pouch to clip to our standard issue kit. You'd never get away with it at home, but out here on tour a blind eye was turned. As long as what you used didn't affect you in any way but positively that was; and as if we were going to do anything to our kit that fucked us up._

_After all, there were plenty of things that wanted to fuck us up over here, without us adding our own gear to the list._

_Happy that my gear was sorted and ready for whatever we might be facing on our patrol, I looked around me, surveying the rest of the unit. We were deploying from inside the compound of our "training base" in Basra, where we were helping to support the local troops; ostensibly teaching them techniques and tactics. In truth my unit was split between doing _their_ job, patrolling the streets and the local area, and doing _our_ job, shepherding the local big wigs around. _

_Still, it was exactly where I wanted to be and what I wanted to do; and I was determined to impress. Whitey and I were looking after the new guys that had joined the unit, and we were pretty anxious not to let anything happen to them. The lure of that extra stripe on my sleeve ever present._

_"Fuck it's hot." Whitely said again, taking off his MK6 and mopping down his brow. "Mad dogs and fucking Englishmen eh mate?"_

_"Something like that Paul; and I get it already, you're hot. So am I, deal with it; now stop whining and put your fucking kit on before the Sarge gets here."_

_Whitey looked me up and down as I sorted out my hair, tucking it up so it would fit under my helmet. "Well the uniform doesn't really do you justice Corporal, but yeah, I'd say you look totally hot, it's the body armour and the boots that do it for me every time; desert cammo on a girl really gives me a hard on you know?"_

_He grinned at me cheekily as I strapped on my helmet and then stuck two fingers up at him. "Do I have to break your fucking nose again Whitey? Get your fucking gear on soldier," I told him, giving him my best hard stare. "Besides, thinking about the goats in some of those villages gives you a fucking hard on!"_

_He smiled back at me before shrugging his shoulders and making a bleating sound as he thrust his hips suggestively. _

"_Come on Corporal, you know that little brown and tan goat out there has got her eye on me. She's practically begging me for it," he said thrusting his pelvis back and forth even more dramatically; pausing only to wink at me suggestively. I made a retching sound at his wink and faked vomiting onto the floor. Laughing at my action, he quit his ludicrous pose and picked up his own body armour; shaking out the pouches and getting ready to 'turtle up' himself._

_It was good what we had, it was banter, it was a friendship. I'd never really had a friend like that, never at school and certainly not since I'd lost mum, and to my surprise I'd discovered that I kind of liked it. _

_We'd met on my first day in my old unit Whitey and I, back in Germany before we'd been shipped to Iraq to join the CPU; and long before my promotion from Lance-Corporal to full Corporal had been confirmed. He'd took the piss for a while, what with me being the rookie; but we soon found our limits and settled down to a pretty solid friendship. He was my oppo and we trained, ran, swam, laughed, and got drunk together. We were pretty well inseparable; well that was until he'd drunkenly bust into my room at the barracks and found me and the QARANC_ _nurse that I'd met busting up a bar brawl, locked in a rather compromising embrace. _

_He'd really gone to town after finding out that little secret of mine, little jibes and digs at me without ever coming straight out and telling everyone. Our friendship had suffered and so had our working relationship and it had finally come to a head with me and him in a bar in Osnabrück. We'd bumped into each other whilst we were out drinking separately for the first time in months, and after a few choice words between us he'd called me out; and in a dark alleyway we'd started out shouting and ended up at blows. It was a swift and brutal fight, he wasn't much of a match for me sober and he was well on his way to being wasted. One angrily thrown punch later and I'd broken his nose. He'd been so surprised he'd fallen on his arse and stared up at me before laughing at me, blood still dripping from his face as I tried to put it back into place and patch him up._

_We'd sat on the floor in that alley and talked before heading back to our hotel to sleep it off. Oddly enough by morning everything was cool between us again; in fact overnight he seemed to have sorted himself out. He'd presumably listened to what I'd told him in that alley; that I wasn't any different to the woman I was before he found out I like girls as much as he did, and decided to see my sexuality as a bonus. Well, in that it he stupidly assumed that it would help him pick up all the 'heartbroken ladies' that I rejected that was. _

_Much, much later, he'd drunkenly confessed that his real problem hadn't been that I was gay, but that I hadn't trusted him enough to tell him in the first place. Fuck did that make me feel bad, he honestly didn't care about anything other than that I'd betrayed our friendship. It was only then that I remembered what having a friend meant; just like mum, I could tell Paul anything and he wouldn't judge me, he was my mate...why would he?_

_I was actually surprised that the rest of the boys didn't seem to give a shit either. Bolstered by Whitey's belief in me, and his suggestions that I should be honest with myself; and, taking the opportunity to join in their drunken discussion of the relative merits of a cute blonde we'd seen on a night out in Bristol, I'd finally come out to the boys. To be honest I think they were a more shocked at some of the comments I'd made about the blonde and what I'd like to do to her, than they were at the fact that I had just told them I was gay. I think they were probably pretty shocked that I managed to get her back to my hotel later that night as well, and hopefully more than a little jealous._

_Whitey had pretty much enabled me to be myself for the first time in my short life, certainly my life since I'd joined the Army and I loved him like a brother for it. We'd got even closer since we'd been shipped together to Iraq to join the CPU; since I realised how close I'd come to getting killed on that fateful second day. We'd helped each other through the fear, helped each other through during those first few terrifying weeks; we were good mates, really good mates, and his battle cry of _"no-one's going to kill us, we're indestructible,"_ had helped me laugh my way through the crippling terror and battle my way back to normality._

_For the second time in my life I found myself with a best friend, it was nice; and I knew I could allow myself to get used to this feeling all over again._

_"Is everything ready Snowy?" Sergeant Langdon called from the shade of the doorway he'd just exited; walking over to us, his helmet wobbling on his head where he'd not bothered to fasten it down..._

_'Snowy', that was me...anyway that was what the boys had nicknamed me after our first proper fire fight together; well sort of. It was in the third week of our deployment and I'd earned it after my first time under small arms fire. It was also the first time that I'd got a real handle on my fear and the training came flooding back allowing me to function as a soldier and an oppo. _

_We'd been pinned down by small arms fire from the ground floor windows of a rough building and, seeing my mates in serious trouble, I'd grabbed hold of my fear, pushed it down hard and ran into a side alley; ignoring the bullets that followed me as I ran. My little manoeuvre had worked though; I'd managed to flank their position, carefully working my way around the side of the building. It had been simple after that, I'd simply ducked and ran towards the blue painted door, and threw myself against the wall, ignoring the fire that seemed to be tracking me down once more. _

_I smiled as I saw Whitey's considerable bulk hitting the other side of the door frame mere seconds after me. I knew he'd be following me, knew it without ever having to look that he'd never let me down. He winked across at me and gestured at the window above and to the right of me and I nodded back; he'd read my mind, but then that's what it's like when you're that close to someone, you just know what the other person is thinking. Leaning against the wall, squatting slightly to stay in cover, I took a deep breath and pulled a HE grenade from my vest. Pulling the pin I readied myself, holding on to the fly-off lever with, quite literally, a death grip until I was totally ready. I glanced up once more at my target and tossed the grenade gently in through the open window; the fly off lever pinging away to land somewhere on the dusty street next to me, the three second fuse already counting down to explosive devastation. I stood with my back flat against the wall waiting for the blast; my C8 readied to effect a door entry. Whitey and I shared a brief excited grin and counted to three after the concussive blast blew dust and sand out of the windows and the door frame. With one swift movement I leaned back and, with a practiced boot, kicked in that blue wooden door and sprayed bullets into the shell shocked, surviving attackers as my oppo and I breached and cleared._

_"You're the real deal now Campbell," Langdon had told me after we'd cleaned up the mess, making sure the building was totally safe. "Cool as fucking cucumber. Like fucking __**ice**__ you were Campbell, well fucking done; that's what I expect in this unit, quick and clean. Same goes to you Whitey, I had my doubts when you ladies showed up to ruin my day, but I think you two will do. Welcome aboard," he'd gone on to finish, clapping us both on the back; our positions in the CPU pretty much sealed. _

_Whitey had wanted to nickname me the 'ice maiden' after Langdon's little ice comment, but one raised eyebrow from me had ended that joke before it began. _

_"I'm not an 'Ice Maiden' Paul. You of all people know that I can be quite emotional when provoked." I told him forcefully, flicking at his nose with a finger, reminding him of how angry I'd been when he called me out. _

_"Personally," I told him firmly, dragging a much better name out of my love of books; "I would prefer to be thought of as the 'Snow Queen'; it's far more classy, just like me." I finished with a flourish, winking at a chuckling Langdon. When the laughter had subsided the name had stuck, and 'Snowy' I was from that moment on._

_"...Everything's ready Grouch," I told him, dragging my thoughs back to the present. "Apart from this lazy fuck that is." I swung a kick at Whitey as he checked his radio; I ignored his protestations of innocence and fought off his attempt to hug me dramatically in front of the boys._

_"White, just because you're the newly found love of Snowy's fucking life doesn't mean that you can take the piss out of ME." Grouch shouted, more than living up to his nickname. He played the role of a miserable cunt pretty well, but I knew it to be a complete lie; David 'Grouch' Langdon was one of the loveliest men I'd ever met, but he sure knew how to sort out a unit. As he was about to, very capably, demonstrate to us all as he strode over towards the rest of the guys._

_"_So?_" he bellowed in his best parade ground voice. "What are you all standing there holding your pricks and gawping for you useless twats? Get your shit together ladies, the Lieutenant's going to be out in two minutes and Snowy and I have got enough fucking problems babysitting a rookie fucking officer without having to sort _you_ sorry fuckers out as well...and that goes double for you White, you fuckwit!"_

_Whitey had grinned as the Sarge took a friendly swipe at his head and bent down to pick up our C8's from where we'd left them leaning against the Landy. With a wry grin back I checked over my weapon, making sure that the mechanism was free from dust and sand and climbed aboard the Land Rover tucking my rifle into a convenient nook by the driver's seat and busying myself getting ready. _

_Sure enough about two minutes later Lieutenant Jones was sat in the passenger seat of the lead Land Rover that I was driving, clucking over a map and our orders._

_"Are we all ready for the off Sergeant?" he asked the 'Grouch' as he stood next to my open window._

_"Yes Sir," Grouch said without a hint of sarcasm at the stupid question; we spent fucking hours every day patrolling or preparing for patrol, as if we wouldn't be fucking ready. _'Bloody rookies' _I thought, _"Why did the old LT have to get fucking promoted out of here?"

"_Everyone is present and correct Sir," Langdon continued; "and I've personally briefed everyone as per your orders. Patrol route's laid in and the drivers have their GPS units set up with the checkpoints. Just give the order Sir and we'll get this show on the road."_

_"Thank you Sergeant, let's get out there; intelligence says tension is high at the moment so tell everyone to take no chances, ok? "_

_"They never do Lieutenant, it's more than their life's worth. If they get killed they have to answer to me before they get to St Peter."_

_The Grouch looked across at me and held out his clenched fist._

_"Low and slow Snowy." he said as we bumped fists._

_"Slow and low Sarge," I responded in kind. With a grin Langdon winked at me and wandered back to his position in the number three Landy and with a call over the squad radio we were on our way; out on patrol and may the gods have mercy on our souls. _

_It was after the first hour had passed and we were in the badlands outside of Basra itself when our luck started to go South; for starters the vehicle I was driving got a flat, the thick tyre torn apart by a stray rock. It was weird, but not that unusual, sometimes shit like that just happens; not every bad thing that happens in a war zone is down to enemy action. Still, it was a nervous time as Whitey and I kicked and swore at the wheel nuts as we changed out the bust wheel for the spare; all the time nervously watching the landscape for signs of trouble._

_The next thing to hit us was far less friendly. A bunch of the local kids decided it would be fun to throw rocks at us as we passed through their village; they couldn't have been much older than nine or ten. I couldn't help thinking that kids like that should be out playing and having fun; that they should be out kicking footballs, not hurling stones at us. It was a crying shame what war had done to this country, and it didn't matter if you thought the reasons behind what we were doing were right or wrong; it was always the innocents that seemed to suffer, that was the fact of the matter._

_Didn't stop me wanting to open fire on the little fuckers though, especially after one of the bastards managed to hit me on the side of the head with a small stone. Happily, common sense prevailed and my C8 stayed tucked next to me; conveniently to hand though, just in case I changed my mind._

_We were on the second to last leg of the patrol when the shit really hit the fan. I was already nervous, this was an exposed area of the route, and a favourite point for insurgents to practice their own version of the 'hit and fade' operation. A previous patrol by another unit had been hit not far from here a couple of weeks ago and we were all on alert, watching the road and the hillsides around us for signs of trouble. As we moved deeper and deeper into bandit country I could have sworn I saw a flash from a distant hillside and pointed it out to the LT._

_"Was it a natural reflection or something else?" Lt Jones asked, quickly sizing up the situation._

_"Can't say Sir," I said as I fought with the wheel over the bumpy terrain, "but I've got a bad feeling about this. If you pushed me on it, I'd guess it was binoculars, or a scope. My gut tells me someone's watching us."_

_"You and your gut feelings Snowy," Whitey said from behind me, "You always get them, and they're never good are they?"_

_"Well, I didn't see it myself Corporal, but..." Jones said, ignoring the comment from the rear; not yet knowing that Whitey was right about my gut feelings. He surprised me then when he continued,_

_"...but I'll take your word for it, let's take no chances with this gut feelings of yours; there's usually a subconscious reason for them, the brain being quicker than the eye and all that. Better safe than sorry eh? White, get on the radio, let everyone know we've got possible trouble and let Command know we've got a possible ambush site ahead, see if there's anything in the air that can support us if needed. We're a little thin on cover out here if we get hit on."_

_Around me, I knew, the guys were going about their business like the professionally trained troops that we were. Weapons were being checked and readied, straps on the ammo pouches were being loosened slightly to allow faster access. Every man in the unit was scouring their corners, looking for the first sign of trouble; nerves singing as the anticipation grew, almost to beyond fever pitch._

_In the end, it was simple blind luck that saved me from getting killed by the ambush, well blind luck and a lot of good training to survive the subsequent gun battle. We had weaved through the landscape, meandering ever closer to the spot where I'd seen the flash. As we rounded a corner and pulled onto a short stretch of scrubby road that led back towards Basra the ground in front of my vehicle erupted in a cloud of dust and flame; showering us with stones and rubble. It had been set off perhaps thirty seconds too soon and only because of that had it missed its intended target, giving us a chance. At an order from the LT we piled out of the Land Rovers and took cover in amongst the scarce rocks, weapons pointing out, eyes fixed down the sights looking for a target._

_"Two o'clock, got nothing!" I shouted at a request for "Enemy Seen?" from Lt Jones, giving the standard clock reference based on the direction of our travel. It was maybe thirty seconds to a minute before the first shots came in from the hillside where I'd originally seen the flash, the all too familiar crack of the AK-47 echoing around the hills._

_"Contact, eleven o'clock!" someone shouted, and the roadside echoed to the spit and hiss of incoming rounds and the sounds of rocks being struck behind me. We were pretty much sitting ducks out here on the road and we needed to get sorted fast or get pinned down, completely out of position. Just as I was about to take charge there was a call from Lt Jones and, at an order from Langdon, we quickly repositioned to return fire at the distant muzzle flashes._

_"Command this is Echo one-five." Whitey spoke into his radio unit, his voice calm. "We are in contact with the enemy and taking incoming small arms fire from a hillside south east of our position, reference Zulu Three. Do you copy my transmission? Over"_

_I couldn't help but grin at his businesslike approach as my C8 slammed into my shoulder over and over again. I was busy returning fire on the would be ambushers; aiming my reflex sight at the flashes of light in the distance, knowing the chances of actually hitting anyone would be slim, and knowing that wasn't the point. The disciplined, almost melodic, fire from our position would simply give us time to organise ourselves once more; at the very least mount an effective defence and perhaps even manage a counter attack to take the battle to the enemy. If they hadn't all fucked off back into the shadows by then that was. _

_Though, as far as I was concerned, it didn't really matter what they did; they could all fuck off and die, as long as we were all safe and sound. We were all tuckined in returning fire, Whitey was on the horn to Command and Langdon, Jones and I had the situation under control - well as best you can when the bullets are flying. Most importantly we were all safe so far, from what I could establish we hadn't had a single injury, let alone a casualty. Carefully, ensuring every part of me stayed below the scrubby cover I'd burrowed down into, I opened an ammo pouch and slipped a finger through the paracord loop we all taped to the bottom of our magazines for that very reason; drawing it out and placing it ready for my reload._

"Echo one-five this is Command, we copy your message. Stand by, over."

_"Stand fucking by," Whitey yelled across to me in disgust, "can you believe this shit? One of those rear echelon fuckers wants to come out here and see how easy it is to 'stand fucking by' when there's some cunt shooting at you."_

_"Stow it Whitey, not helping mate," I told him, nodding to the rookies that were eating their way into the sparse cover, firing onto the enemy positions and probably shitting themselves. He went to reply, but thankfully he bit his tongue, just before Lt. Jones scrabbled his way over to him and demanded the radio._

_"Command this is Echo one-five, Lt. Jones speaking. We are under fire from multiple hostiles at hill ref Zulu Three. We are pinned down and are heavily outnumbered, do you have air support or artillery available? Over."_

_I caught Whitey's eye roll at the fresh faced young Lieutenant's attempts to get us help. Still at least he was trying, and it couldn't hurt to have someone with some rank report in that we might just be in the shit._

"Echo one-five this is Command, Lieutenant Jones we have US AC-130 gunship support in your airspace, patching you through now, Command out."

_There was a click on the transmission and then an American voice came over the radio._

"Echo one-five this is Spooky Four-Four, call sign Cloudburst. I, er...I believe you guys need some help down there?"

_I couldn't help but grin at the relaxed voice of the pilot; how the other half lived, cruising around up there in their metal bubble. Still, I wouldn't swap places with them for all the tea in China, I knew the fucking insurgents had ground to air missiles that had probably been snuck in from across the border; and I knew we'd lost air crews that were flying low trying to give close support to the troops because of them. Doing a close air support role was not my idea of fun. If someone wanted to try and kill me, I wanted to be on the ground and able to do something about it myself; not sit in a flying coffin waiting for it to happen, reliant on someone else to save my fucking life. Brave boys those crews, brave boys indeed._

_The rookie Lieutenant surprised me though as he replied, his voice sounding as nonchalant as the pilot circling somewhere above us; he sounded unflustered and unconcerned by the fire we were taking with just a hint of the 'plummy', clichéd English Officer's accent present._

_"Cloudburst this is Echo one-five. Nothing we can't handle really, we just can't be bothered right now; it's a bit warm for fighting if you know what I mean? We thought we'd put the kettle on and offer you guys some target practice." Jones said as if we did this kind of thing every day. "We have multiple hostiles for you at hill reference Zulu Three; do you...erm, do you think you could do something about them for us old boy, so we can enjoy our tea?"_

_'Jesus, he sounds like something out of an old war movie' I thought as he chuckled at the end of his request, as if amused by his own cleverness._

"Sure can Echo one-five, appreciate the business, it does get a bit boring up here with nothing to do but drink coffee all day," _the pilot said, laughing along with Jones' joke. His voice turned serious though when he got down to the real business at hand._ "Fire control can you see the friendlies."

"I have four vehicles on the screen, can you confirm those as friendly?"

_"Corporal Campbell," Jones called out, "go stick a beacon on your bus, let them know it's us. The rest of you, prepare to give the Corporal some cover."_

_Keep your head down Snowy," Whitey muttered, slapping me on the shoulder with an outstretched arm, "you still owe me a beer so no getting killed today ok?"_

_I nodded and pulled my emergency beacon out of my pouch, it wasn't a large bit of kit, or a heavy one; simply clipping, as it did, onto the top of a 9v battery. It was a fucking useful bit of equipment though and I never left home without it. Quickly I flicked the switch starting its regular, but invisible, IR-light flashes and took a deep breath. "On three guys ok?" I said, preparing to break cover. "One, two _three_..."_

_I launched myself to my feet ignoring the hail of gunfire that erupted around me, ignoring the sound of bullets whizzing past; the angry buzzing, sounding like I'd kicked over a hornets' nest, coming too close for comfort on more than one occasion. With an extra burst of speed I dumped the beacon onto the bonnet of my vehicle and ducked into cover, waiting for the next fusillade of fire to cover my return._

_"On three again guys, ready? One, two...THREE!"_

_As I dived back into the little hollow I'd burrowed myself into earlier, I grinned across at Jones who gave me a thumbs up and immediately contacted the AC-130._

_"Cloudburst this is Echo one-five, we have placed a beacon on the lead vehicle, repeat lead vehicle. Confirm that you see friendly forces around the beacon over."_

Echo one-five, we confirm you and your beacon; that was one hell of a sprint from your guy there, has he plans to run in the Olympics or something?"

_"Cloudburst, no I don't believe Corporal Campbell has any plans to run in the Olympics," he said as a fresh volley of fire pinged around our position. "But she _probably_ would like to _walk_ away from here. Do you have the hostiles targeted yet over?"_

"Ease up there Echo one-five; Fire Control is identifying the bad guys as we speak, we're going to fire a few rounds of twenty five millimetre for effect, let us know if we're on your targets. Fire control, you have permission to fire when ready."

"Roger that," _came the other voice over the crackly radio,_ "Firing now."

_The air above us sounded like it was being ripped open, and there were large puffs of smoke and flashes on the hillside in front of us as the high explosive incendiary rounds hit the ground. All of a sudden the firing from in front of us stopped, the bad guys must have realised what was coming; and they were decamping, probably very rapidly._

_"Cloudburst, this is Echo one-five." Lt Jones relayed back, "I confirm that _is_ our target, repeat that IS our target. Go fuck them up guys. One-five out"_

"Echo one-five confirming that we have your targets; Cloudbust is ready to bring down the hard rain on your hostiles. You guys might want to get ready for the show, it's ah, it's going to be a beauty."

_"Everyone stay down," Lt Jones shouted; not that anyone was really listening. The lack of incoming fire, coupled with the prospect of seeing an AC-130 gunship at work had us all looking out from cover as the skies were ripped asunder once more. The sound of the twenty five millimetre Vulcan cannon was drumming through my teeth as it tore strips off the countryside. It's not a sound I could ever describe to the layman, but once you've heard it you'll never forget it; and I dearly hoped that I would never be on the other end of its fire, watching in awe as the ground veritably danced under its rain of destruction. _

_After the small arms fire we were treated to the main event; the fireworks show that was the heavy artillery rolling in, the heavy thump of the hundred and five millimetre cannon and the drum roll that was the forty millimetre making the ground around us literally shake as they smashed the hillside to pieces. Nothing, and I do mean nothing, could have survived that controlled barrage of rolling thunder and I felt a small surge of pity for the insurgents that had dared to attack us on this of all days._

_"Fucking yeah!" one of the rookies shouted as the fire finally ceased, climbing up from his cover position in front of me to get a better look; punching the air in jubilation. I swiftly dragged his feet out from under him, pulling him back into cover; and he glared around himself as he twisted to see who had tripped him. He got the message loud and clear as I met his stare with my very best set of 'death eyes'; we don't celebrate scenes like that my glare told him, we make sure we're all safe and we do our jobs. _

"Echo one-five this is Cloudburst, receiving over?"

_"Cloudburst this is Echo one-five, read you loud and clear, over."_

_"Echo one-five, you are looking pretty much free and clear now, should be nothing down there but bits and pieces. We'll be remaining on station for the next fifteen minutes before returning to base, if you need any more assistance just holler boys. Cloudburst signing off."_

_"Roger that Cloudburst, thanks for the assist, hell of a show you put on, Echo one-five out."_

_Slowly I picked myself up from the hard ground and walked across to my vehicle, retrieving my beacon and tucking it away once more. There was a sombre silence as we checked everything down, all the time looking across at the scorched earth that once was called Zulu Three. _

_We drove over to the enemy positions, pausing only to shovel dirt into the crater the IED had left behind to allow us to pass down the road. As we approached the wasteland we took no chances, guns were ready and aimed out of the windows safeties off and fingers firmly on triggers; we needn't have bothered, there wasn't anything left out there to threaten us._

_As we searched the area for intelligence, or bodies, or anything useful really, I was feeling sick to my stomach. I had nothing but that mortar attack at the start of my tour on my mind, and the realisation that what had happened here could still happen to me was a crushing one. There was nothing left of the attackers, nothing but bits; literally, nothing but bits. As I stepped over a rock I stood on the remains of a human arm, it's fingers clenched like a claw, torn off at the elbow yet still gripping the grip of the shattered rifle it had been holding . It wasn't an adult hand, but it wasn't the hand of a child either; yet another teenage warrior that had lost their life in a conflict that had long lost its original meaning. A conflict that was no longer one of protection and liberation, but one of ideology and rhetoric, money and power. One more young life wasted in the name of modern warfare._

_I heard one of the rookies, who was patrolling nearby, retch violently as he came across the shattered remains of the broken body; thrown like a rag doll over a rocky mound. The sound of vomit spattering on the hot rocks was the only thing to cut through the overwhelming silence. It was carnage, carnage of our making. The worst thing was I was numb to it all, and I knew that only a few short months down the line he'd be like me, like the rest of us, numbed to the sight of death. _

_It's not that we weren't still shocked you understand, it's not that it didn't still affect us; it's just that after a while you try to push those feelings down and away, hold them inside so tightly that sometimes it hurts. It's like you have to almost squeeze the very life out of your humanity to stop it escaping you; because you know, when it's all over and you're back in the world, you're going to need it._

_War changes you, but it doesn't make you harder; not the way many people think. It just makes you less able to express your feelings, because you get so used to holding them tight. Scenes of death and destruction like this always adding to the pressure; the pressure not to lose yourself in the horror that you see day in and day out, the pressure to try and remain human; at least that's how it felt to me._

_I looked around at the shattered landscape once more, this time with eyes that saw the horror that we had wrought; and once again I pushed everything down into that internal strongbox and locked it closed. These were the brutal consequences of war; it was us against the insurgents it was a simple as that, but we had all the benefits of modern killing technology and they mostly had nothing but guile. _

_It was bows and arrows against the lightning._

_This time the technology had won out. It wasn't always this way, sometimes guile succeeded where technology failed. Guile had so very nearly won today, thirty seconds later and the explosive would have been slap bang under my Land Rover and I would probably have been dead; with Jones, White and the rookie McKale along with me._

_But yes, on this day we had won; we were the ones that'd had a bit of luck and I, for one, was glad of it. Glad because I got to take my boys home to base with their limbs all intact; got to take them home so they could write letters and make phone calls to their loved ones. To let them know that they were all right and they'd be home soon. I didn't have anyone to write to myself, no-one to worry about my safety; not out there anyway. But still I was happy. We only had a few more days left in this hell hole before we had a well deserved leave; and I had a week's holiday in Cyprus to look forward to. Me and Whitey off together to get wasted and paint the island red as only combat troops letting loose knew how. Drinking, dancing and screwing, with nothing on our minds but having fun; because as my mum had once told me over our old kitchen table, life's too short and you're a long time dead._

_I found myself grinning as Whitey nonchalantly walked over to the vomiting soldier, shouldering his rifle and clapping a friendly arm around his shoulder as if nothing was happening, as if they were two blokes in a bar._

_"Don't worry about it Chunks," he said handing the youngster a name that would probably stick with him until he left the army and probably beyond. A nickname he'd eventually be as proud of as I was of mine; despite the inglorious way he'd earned it, blowing chunks after his first fire fight._

_"Stick with me and Snowy there Chunks my lad, we'll see you right. No-one's going to kill us, we're fucking indestructible!"_

_He strolled over to where I was stood and grabbed me by the front pouches of my body armour, dragging me close; then he put his hand up to the neck of my jacket. With a whistle he turned to stand next to me, looking out at the crowd of troops that had gathered to see what he was doing, his hand gripping my collar firmly._

"_See what I mean ladies, Snowy and me...fucking indestructible!"_

_"Yeah," I joked before realising what he was showing me. "Blessed by an angel I am mate. It's my virtuous lifestyle I tell you, the Gods love their little Snow Queen."_

_No-one around me was really laughing at my wit, they were simply staring at whatever Whitey was displaying. As I strained my neck to look down at his hand I realised that he'd dragged out my collar and that his finger was poking out through a hole in the left hand side that was raw and burnt. With his finger sticking right through my jacket I looked down at the bullet hole that had come so close to ripping through my neck and ending my life…_

'…fuck me that was close!'

o+o+o

_Fitch Manor - Present Day_

"Naomi, are you ok?"

I blinked twice at Emily's voice and looked around me, only to find that everyone at the table was staring at me. Looks, varying between concern and amusement, plastered over their faces.

"I take it that wasn't your happy place Naomi," Jenna said softly as Emily leaned across and dabbed at my face with her napkin, wiping a tear from my cheek. I smiled grimly and shook my head.

"No, not really Jenna; not a happy place at all."

"Afghanistan?" James asked, I shook my head again. "Where then?"

"I really don't want to talk about it Mr Fitch," I said; pulling down my shutters and trying to lock it all away again. Trying desperately to shove it back in the box it had momentarily escaped from at his words; leaning heavily on the lid to force it closed and taking a couple of deep breaths to settle myself once more.

"But..."

"She said she doesn't want to talk about it perv, so drop it all right!"

There was silence at the table after Emily snapped at her brother, a silence I knew was my fault. I turned to Jenna and apologised.

"I'm sorry Jenna, I'm a terrible guest I know. First I have to move seats because I'm paranoid and now I get lost in my memories, make everything awkward and ruin the evening. I'm terribly sorry; If you'll excuse me I'll leave you all in peace to enjoy the rest of your meal together."

"Nonsense Naomi," Jenna said, holding out a hand as if to restrain me from getting up. "I apologise for us even bringing up the matter." She stared across at James who, I swear, physically shrank in his chair under her glare.

"_Some_ of us should know better than to press our _guests_ to talk about things they have said they would prefer not to discuss. I'm sorry for our rudeness Naomi dear, and hope that we haven't offended you."

I shook my head and settled back down, receiving a strange smile from Jenna as I did so. I followed her gaze only to find that Emily had been holding my left hand, her right palm pressed diagonally across the back, her fingers curled under mine. I have no idea when she took my hand like that, and I've no recollection of my thumb gripping back, and involuntarily stroking her little finger as I sat staring at it.

Casually I slipped my hand away from Emily's, only for Emily to drag her fingers across the back of my hand, lightly tickling the skin as I did so. I looked up to see James staring at me, he looked disappointed for a second before those cheeky bright eyes came back and he gave me a subtle wink before riding to my rescue, diverting his mothers attention away from me, and back onto him.

"Look Naomi; Mum's right, I was a bit of a prick. I shouldn't have pushed you about that kind of thing; it wasn't in any way well mannered or polite. I'm really sorry and I hope I can make it up to you one day."

"It's fine James," I said honestly, deciding to wipe the incident from my memory. "I'm just a little touchy about some of the things that happened over there that's all. I really don't like to talk about what went on; but tell your friend at Uni, tell him that anyone that has walked through a field after an airstrike...well they won't find anything to talk about that would seem exciting. If you see that guy again, tell him from me he's either a braggart or a liar and that I'd love to meet him to find out which."

"I'll tell him Naomi," he promised as the main course was brought in, giving us a natural break from the tension. "I never much liked the fucker anyway, he never got a round in."

"_James,_ language at the dinner table; what _have_ I told you."

"Shit, sorry mum. Fuck I said shit didn't I? Oh bugger."

Jenna glared at her son, who looked at her from under his long mascara covered eyelashes, his best puppy dog face in place. After a few seconds Jenna began to laugh and the incident was swept under the carpet, never to be spoken of again.

Or so I thought.

"If you ever feel the need to talk to someone Nomi, you can talk to me ok?" Emily whispered as Jenna passed James the sauce to go with his chicken dish. "I may not understand, but I can always lend you an ear, return the favour you know?"

"I'll remember that Emily," I told her, pretty much dismissing it out of hand in my mind; really not wanting to talk to anyone about it, least of all her.

"Good," she replied, absently patting me on the arm before pausing and softly rubbing her fingers in circles about the top of my wrist. "James, could I possibly have that sauce before you steal the bloody lot."

I looked up as the gravy boat was passed from one sibling to the other, only to find Jenna Fitch staring at me. As I met her gaze I could see in her eyes that she'd seen what Emily had done, either the holding of my hand or the affectionate playing with my arm; she'd seen it and she'd seen that I'd done nothing to stop it happening.

_'Shit'_ I thought to myself, remembering the lines from Cook's report that told me just how old fashioned the Fitch's were, and how ruthlessly they'd come down on James for his very public embarrassment of the family. _'I'm so fucking dead,'_ I thought, _'if I survive the next few minutes I'm at the very least fucking fired.'_

My paranoid thoughts raged unchecked as I ran through every possible outcome of this operation; and found none that were in any way favourable. The best I could come up with was being thrown forcibly from Fitch Manor by members of my own team; the worst involved being thrown forcibly from Fitch Manor by members of my own team whilst Jenna loaded up that shiny Purdey shotgun that I'd taught her to use.

As I ran through ideas to try and calm her down and defuse the situation I watched in shock as her face changed from the stony, impenetrable poker face she had been wearing to a slight, barely noticable, but definitely warmer smile.

Jenna Fitch knew, and she didn't seem to fucking care.

Really didn't see that one coming!

.

.

.

**A/N** - and that's where we leave it for 2010 (sorry), I'll try and get a chapter up next week, I'm also going to try and get the next chapter of PfP finished as well...but as it's my [cough]'th birthday on Saturday I'll have to see how hung over I still am...Yeah, I'm a New Year's baby...man I can't tell you how hard that blows goats! )-:

I hope that everyone here has a fantastic New Year and an awesome 2011, it's hard to think that it's still less than 12 months since I found this site and the wonderful people that write here, both stories and reviews; as I've mentioned elsewhere you've all made a pretty shitty 2010 a whole lot better peep's, so thank you all for that. If you feel inclined, raise a glass as 2011 rolls around to the lovely people that make this site what it is...I know I will be!

So, with a bit of luck I'll see you all in January 2011, new Skins on TV and hopefully a lot more Gen 2 on here to make up for the loss of those wonderful kids. Have fun my friends have fun but, once again, be safe.

All the best,

Es


	26. The Talk

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent and a distinct lack of awesomeness!

Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which still makes me very upset but not as much as before).

**Authors Note **– Happy New Year people, welcome to my first chapter of 2011. Thanks for the kind words about my overlong chapter - yes even you Hawke - back to normal this time (-:

I'm glad that the flashback with Gina met muster, I love Gina Campbell, I was gutted that she didn't appear in S4 as "promised" still she's around in our fan-fic hearts and that's ok with me.

Anyway, here's Chapter 26, the one with the ominous title, and probably a load of mistakes because it's 2am here and I'm tired, ill and grumpy, (no change there then) (-;

Hope you enjoy it.

**Chapter 26 - The Talk...**

To say the main course was awkward would be a slight understatement, I was having to concentrate so much on what I was doing and how I was behaving, being careful not to slip again; being careful not to let Emily play act in front of her mother once more.

To be honest though, I wasn't concentrating so much I didn't notice what I was eating. The main course was, by far, the best piece of food I've had put in front of me since my days with Amy; when we were visiting all the posh restaurants she loved and eating those expensive meals. Not to concentrate and savour every mouthful would have been disrespectful in the extreme.

And I'm never disrespectful, not around good food anyway.

The food served at Fitch Manor really was restaurant quality, a lovely piece of chicken sensitively cooked with a really good rich gravy sauce that had been served in its own little china boat. I could only imagine how much crockery this family had. Seriously there seemed to be something for everything, fucking gravy boats, vegetables in covered china bowls; plates, side plates the works; and everything fucking matched. The only time I've seen anything close was in an officers mess and I _wasn't_ being invited to eat.

I was also trying my hardest to be delicate about my behaviour, watching the others carefully as they ate to make sure I used the right cutlery etc; it's not that I'm ignorant of the niceties of life, but it has been quite a while since I've enjoyed them.

Besides, if I'm honest I'm happier with a KFS set and a mess tin; I didn't grow up with a silver spoon in my mouth, mum definitely couldn't afford one of those. Some of the time we were lucky to put food on the table, some of the time I was grateful that mum and I got to eat together at all. I think it was then tha I learned my respect for food, clearing my plate at every meal and all that. I also learned to make sure mum had eaten or was eating before tucking in; I, at least, got a free meal at school every day; even if some of the little bastards I went with took the piss out of me for it.

"Is everything all right with your meal Naomi?" Jenna asked, startling me slightly. She hadn't said a word to me since she'd caught her daughter stroking my arm; instead I'd caught her, out of the corner of my eye, watching me carefully as I chatted with James.

"Everything's just lovely Jenna, thank you. I don't think I've eaten this well in the last twelve months. Your chef is a bit of a genius, I wish we'd had someone deliver chicken this juicy to us when I was abroad. I'm afraid most of the chicken I ate over there tasted like it was out of a packet, or a tin; in fact most of it was."

"Oh yes, he costs us a fortune but it's well worth it for times like this. A lot of the time it's just me here, but I do like entertaining guests so I keep him on all year round."

"Money well spent then," I replied smiling through my nerves and cutting into the steak once more.

"Well I don't have many little vices myself, but entertaining and eating well are two of them. Fortunately I don't have to spend hours in that gym Robert had built to keep trim."

"So, Emily takes after you then?"

She eyed me suspiciously and I could feel Emily's eyes upon me as well as we spoke. "In what way is that dear?" Jenna asked sweetly, picking up her glass of wine and taking a drink.

"Well, I've only seen her eat a couple of times and she can pack food away like no other person I've ever seen, yet in the week I've known her I've only seen her exercise once, and that was this morning."

"Oi cheeky," Emily said elbowing me in the side. "I don't eat that much."

"Emily you eat like a horse and you _never_ seem to put on any weight," James said from across the table. "You always have. Katie hates you for it. Why's she mad at you anyway? She glared at me for even mentioning you earlier."

"Katie hates me for a lot of things James, she always has; you know that. But I think she's just jealous that I looked better than her last night and I don't have to work as hard. She never said a word to me over breakfast and that's not like her. I think she's sulking."

I bit back a smirk at that comment, obviously my words from this morning had sunk in at some point during the day. She _had_ looked better than Katie, and she's obviously saying that she hadn't tried that hard, though I doubt that's true. She did look bloody good last night though and if it _is_ true I worry for the day when I see her dressed up and she _has_ tried to make an effort, that _will_ be difficult to take.

"I'm better looking than you, I get more boys than you and I look better in clothes than you." James said with a smile, affecting a ridiculous high pitched voice and a slight lisp.

"Oh Jesus James, just don't….I can't believe you remember her telling me that."

"Yeah, but she wasn't happy when I told her that _I_ looked better in her clothes than she did."

"Wasn't _happy_? I seem to remember she hit you James, with her shoe. Her newest and most favourite shoe."

"Still have the scar Sis, still have the shoes as well," he said with a broad, cheeky grin.

"_You_ nicked her Jimmy Choo's," Emily replied aghast, "fucks sake James she blamed me for that for years. I don't think she's ever forgiven me for those fucking heels going missing. Shit, sorry mum…I forgot, no swearing at the table."

Jenna had frowned at her as she swore, her face crinkling unattractively; and then like the dawning of the sun it lifted as she broke into a rare chuckle at her antics.

"God I've missed having you two around," she said leaning forward and grasping the hands of her children, only struggling slightly with Emily's cast. "You don't know how good it is to have family around this table again. I only wish Katie was here to make it complete."

"Perhaps we should have a get together before I go away?" Emily suggested quickly changing the subject, "James you could make it down for a weekend couldn't you?"

"Probably, but I have got exams coming up soon so I'll need to do some work. These one's sort of count this year."

"Well I wouldn't want to put everyone out," Jenna said, flushing slightly.

"Nah don't worry mum, get dad to fly me down and back. I can get something from Blackpool Airport. I quite like the idea of flitting around in a helicopter like my big sister here. Actually if you could get it to pick me up from campus that'd be great, keep all the ladies drooling over me."

"The ladies only want to steal your shoes James, have you not sussed that yet? It's the _only_ reason you're popular."

"None of the girls I know would fit into my shoes Emily, they're far too delicate and petite. Not like that troll you used to room with at Uni, what was her name…Helga, Olga?"

"Amanda was lovely James, you leave her alone."

"What's she doing now then, is she still playing prop forward for Saracens?"

"James, stop it. You know very well Amanda got married last year, last I heard she's working for UNICEF somewhere in Asia. She hasn't updated her Facebook for a while, I really must send her a message, see how she is."

I caught Jenna looking across at me again as the siblings continued bickering and I turned to meet her eye. "Are these two always like this?" I asked, smirking slightly and talking across their conversation.

"Oh dear no, usually they're much worse," she replied, affection and amusement in her voice, "I don't know where they find the energy to be honest."

"Do you think I need to intervene before it comes to blows, I am supposed to be protecting Miss Fitch here."

"I think you'll be all right Naomi dear, James is far too much of a lightweight to bother Emily too much. I don't think you'll be needed tonight dear."

"Oi Mum! I am sitting right here you know?" James said at his mother's comments. "I _do_ have a reputation to maintain…lightweight indeed"

"You don't have a reputation James, not a good one anyway…"

…and with that, they were off again.

o+o+o

Dessert was as good as the main course, a warm chocolate soufflé that oozed when you cut into it, served with a nice warm cream infused with vanilla. I wasn't even surprised when Emily asked for another serving. I was actually relieved that I could relax a little, her attention totally diverted by the sticky sweet treat in front of her.

"Shut up," she said as I she tucked into that second sticky pudding with obvious glee.

"I didn't say a word Miss Fitch," I told her firmly, "not one word."

"I could hear you thinking; so I like food. Besides, thanks to you, Miss Campbell, I'm in pain…I need my chocolate to ease my suffering."

I knew I'd get the blame for this somehow, however, like a good employee, I let it wash over me. I knew she was joking, I only hoped that James and Jenna would know it as well.

"Emily, you shouldn't tease poor Naomi like that, you know your wrist was a result of you not getting treatment properly the other day; _you_ told me that the hospital said it was almost certainly badly damaged if not fractured already."

"Really?" I said, putting as much feeling into that word as I could. "That's very interesting Jenna, isn't it Miss Fitch?"

To her endless credit she at least had the good grace to blush slightly as she shovelled in the soufflé, trying not to look at me.

"Why's it interesting?" James asked from the other side of the table, sitting back with his glass of beer.

"Emily's been telling Naomi it's her fault she's broke her wrist because she accidentally hit her with a door this morning. The truth is she probably fractured it the other day, when they were attacked leaving here. Naomi told Emily that she should go to hospital, but typically she didn't want to. You know how stubborn she is."

I continued to stare at the now thoroughly embarrassed Emily; who continued to ignore me.

"I've seen some great footage of that chase you know," James said, digging his phone out of his pocket. "Really fucking scary looking that was…er, oops; sorry mum," he corrected himself bashfully. "You must have been terrified Naomi!"

"She wasn't scared at all James, Naomi was brilliant; totally saved my life."

"You know that's not true Miss Fitch," I said firmly, wishing that the ground would open up and swallow me whole. "I told you that I was scared the whole time."

"I'm not surprised," James said, "it looks bad from the outside, let alone from where you were sat…awesome though, you were incredible. Really, really cool to watch. Especially with the soundtrack."

"Soundtrack?" Emily and I both said simultaneously.

"Yeah, it's on YouTube loads of footage montaged together and a soundtrack over the top. You two are famous, look…"

He finished fiddling with his phone and turned it around to show us all what he'd opened. He was swiftly stopped in his tracks with an angry word from his mother.

"James, I do not want to see footage of that incident. Put it away now."

"But mum, you've got to see what they've done."

"I don't _have_ to see anything James, I couldn't watch the original footage on the news and I don't want to see whatever some juvenile idiot on the internet thinks is appropriate music to accompany the near death of my youngest daughter. Now enough!"

I breathed a sigh of relief at Jenna's words, it had been bad enough seeing the footage the next morning, without having to give James Fitch a blow by blow account of what happened, as I knew he would want me to do. He seemed to be a little thrill seeker and wanted to live out his action fantasies through me…_'fucking great.'_

I sipped at my after dinner coffee and watched as James Fitch's eyes began to fill up; it seems that Emily is not the only Fitch to express her emotions through their eyes. Within moments he had muttered an 'excuse me' and pushed his way from the table and out of the room. Emily turned to look at her mother as she watched him leave, looking as upset as her son did before she slipped from her seat.

"I'll go make sure he's all right," she said disappearing from the room in James' wake leaving myself and Jenna sat in silence, sipping at our drinks.

"I'm sorry you had to see that Naomi," Jenna said finally breaking the silence. "I sometimes let my emotions get ahead of me and I'm afraid I upset my children when I do so. I do have a wonderful case of foot in mouth disease."

"It's perfectly all right Jenna, these things happen. To be honest I'm glad you stopped him. The last thing I want to see is some glorified image of something that wasn't very glorious at all."

"Emily tells me you were very brave that day Naomi, you should be proud of yourself."

"It's what I get paid for Jenna, nothing more than that."

"We both know that wasn't the case though, don't we dear?"

I shrugged in response, holding eye contact and sipping at my coffee.

"Emily also tells me she wasn't very nice to you when you first met; she tells me that you didn't like her at all, and yet you still saved her life."

"Well it isn't as if I could have allowed them to shoot her and leave me alive now was it Jenna? I did what I had to do, because I had to do it. I really don't understand why people have made such a fuss about it."

She looked at me appraisingly and leaned forward and poured me a cup of coffee from the large silver pot on the table.

"Naomi, whether you choose to acknowledge this or not, what you did is not normal behaviour. It isn't the sort of thing that people just do because they have to. Normal people panic Naomi, they panic and they get themselves killed. You on the other hand showed courage and fortitude, and they're qualities that both I, and Emily, like."

She sat back into her chair and looked at me, lifting her cup to her lips and taking a sip.

"With that in mind Naomi I'd like to ask you a question."

"Certainly Jenna," I said sitting back myself, "fire away."

"What's going on between you and Emily?"

I'm so shocked I nearly dropped my coffee; that's so unexpected, so out of the blue.

"I'm not sure what you mean Jenna, I'm Miss Fitch's CPO, that's all there is to it."

"Naomi, please don't treat me like a fool. I have eyes and I'm not stupid; now what is going on between you and my daughter?"

"There's nothing going on Jenna, nothing at all. Like you said, Miss Fitch and I didn't get along when we first met and now I think we're both making an effort to be friendly. If only to make working together easier."

"That's _not_ what it looks like."

She sounded like she was being quite short with me, like she's annoyed. I could have sworn I'd seen a hint of a smile earlier when Emily had been inadvertently stroking my arm. I wish now she hadn't seen it and I could have avoided this inquisition. I dug deep into myself and went back to interrogation 101; name, rank and serial number, nothing more than that.

"I'm not sure what you think you've seen Mrs Fitch," I said formally in response to her accusation. "But I can assure you that I have no intention of behaving in any way, other than professionally around your daughter."

'_How Emily's going to behave however I have no control over; but I'm going to try to keep her in check.'_

As if reading my thoughts Jenna looked at me appraisingly, judgingly even.

"There's no need to be quite that defensive Naomi, I was only asking out of concern for my Emily, she seems quite fond of you already, that's all. I wouldn't want you to get the wrong impression; especially given your, rather special, situation."

My special situation, is she fucking kidding me? So now it all comes out, she saw the result of her daughters little publicity stunt, saw Amy appear out of the shadows of my past and now she's concerned I'm going to 'gay up' her fucking daughter; and there was me thinking she was actually a nice woman. There was me thinking that our files had it wrong, and she's not a bigoted old bitch. Time for the best form of defence, a good offence; I decided to take the attack to her.

"There's no need to be concerned Jenna. Despite what you may think about lesbians, I'm not some filthy pervert that's trying to turn your daughter for my own amusement. Anything you've seen has been initiated by her, not me. I think she's simply trying to wind me up because she knows I won't say anything in front of you all."

Her mouth fell open for a second, not jaw droppingly stunned, just slightly shocked; as if my words had slapped her about the cheeks. It was with a conscious effort that she pulled herself together and looked at me again.

"Turn Emily gay, are you serious Naomi? Really, that would be the least of my worries," she started cryptically. "No dear I'm afraid you have me all wrong, I meant about you having to look after her, being in close proximity to her day in day out; I didn't want anything to complicate that, put her, or you at risk."

"Oh," I managed to say slightly shamefacedly. "I misunderstood what you meant. I saw you notice Emily messing about over dinner and, well, I guess I just thought that, you know..."

"Good god do you really think that I'm that bigoted?" Jenna asked sounding affronted. "Honestly Naomi I care not a jot for your sexuality, trust me. I only want my daughter to be safe and happy."

"Well I'm not sure I can do anything about happy Mrs Fitch, but I'll do my best to keep her safe."

"Then that's all I can ask Naomi, well apart from stop calling me Mrs Fitch that is. Just be careful with my daughter Naomi, she's a fragile little thing really."

"I don't know what you mean Jenna," I told her.

"I think you do Naomi, just be careful with her ok? I love her a lot, and despite all appearances to the contrary sometimes, I know Robert does too."

"You could have fooled me Jenna, Miss Fitch seems convinced that her father hates her."

"She even told you that," she said sounding amazed again. You _are_ privileged Naomi, I can't think of but a handful of people my daughter has confessed that little secret of hers to."

"I think she was pretty drunk at the time," I told her; "I'm not sure she meant to tell me most of what she did last night when I found her."

"Oh I think she did," Jenna said knowingly, fixing me with a look that could stop rampaging elephants in their tracks. "I think she meant to say every word to you last night in that Summerhouse of hers."

"Oh," I replied realising that the woman knew more than she was letting on

"Yes Naomi dear, Emily told me about pouring her heart out to you in there last night; I should be saying thank you for being there for her when no-one else was. As she probably explained, last night didn't go well for her. But please, I meant what I said; be careful with my Emily Naomi, that's all I ask. She seems to have chosen you to bare her soul to; I think what you've gone through together in the last few days has affected her quite deeply, but she doesn't give herself to people lightly. Don't hurt her."

"I think you're doing her a disservice, she's a strong woman Jenna. Stronger than some men I've known. She just needs to believe in herself a little bit more."

"That's as may be Naomi, but..."

Jenna stopped abruptly as Emily walked back into the dining room a serious look on her face.

"How is James?" Jenna asked, a genuine note of concern in her voice.

"He's fine, just a bit embarrassed that's all. He sends his apologies and says he thinks he'll turn in, but he'll see us for breakfast. I think he's quite upset that he might have offended you Naomi; it wouldn't surprise me if my little brother has a little crush on you."

I stared at her blankly as she grinned at me cheekily, "anyway, who's for a drink? Mum?"

"Yes dear, I'll have a brandy if you would be so kind; do you think I should go up and see him?" she asked, obviously still worried about James.

"No mum," Emily replied, leading us into a smaller room off the dining room and walking up to a large drinks counter; pouring a generous shot of an expensive looking brandy into a huge balloon glass and passing it to Jenna.

"Leave him to stew, he knows he was being a prick, trying to show off a bit; and I've just reminded him of that fact. He'll be fine, like I say he's more embarrassed now than upset. I think if you both just talk to each other in the morning, perhaps apologise, you'll be ok."

"Well if you say so dear," Jenna said, settling herself down into a plush looking leather armchair. I do so hate fighting with him when I see him so infrequently, but he's just impossible sometimes."

"He's a twat mum and we both know it, I was hoping university would help him grow up a bit but it seems to be making him worse."

"He's still young Emily, he'll come around."

"He won't you know, no matter what dad thinks it isn't going to happen; and he's going to fight it the only way he knows how, by being as he is. Drink Naomi?"

I snapped out of my thoughts as I heard my name; confused by the sudden change of direction that the conversation had taken. "Er, no thanks, I don't..."

"Soft drink, tea, coffee?" she asked gesturing at the bar. "I know you don't drink alcohol Naomi, I hadn't forgotten, it's all right."

I thought about it for a second, still thinking about her words and what I'd overheard James telling her earlier that day. "Coke," I replied feebly, "diet if you've got it."

"Sure," Emily said putting some ice cubes into a tall glass then filling it with a bottle from an under counter fridge that was hidden behind the cabinet doors. With a flourish she dropped a lemon slice into the top and passed it to me.

"Thanks, you're wasted selling arms Miss Fitch, you should be working in a bar."

It was possibly my lamest attempt to lighten the mood of a room and I kicked myself for implying that this smart , beautiful woman should spend her days serving people drinks when she was so obviously destined for far more.

"Oh hell no, I did that when I was at University...never again."

That surprised me. I'd have thought that, with all the money that the Fitch family obviously had, that Emily wouldn't have needed to work when she was at University. From James' comments about squirreling herself away, I had the image of a proper student nerd, locked in her rooms with her textbooks and homework and thoroughly happy with it all. How your image of someone can be shattered in an instant, though the image of barmaid Emily that's just gone floating through my head is a good one; if a totally unprofessional one

"Take a seat Naomi dear," Jenna said gesturing at one of the chairs, "Emily tells me you grew up in Cheltenham, is that right?"

"Yeah, mostly. We moved around Mum and me but I spent most of my childhood in Rowanfield not far from the town centre."

"Did you go to school there?"

_'Well where else would I have gone to school?'_ I thought as I watched Jenna swirl her brandy.

"Yeah, I went to the local grammar school, did my GCSE's and 'A' levels there before leaving to join the Army."

"Emily went to school in Cheltenham, did she ever tell you that?"

"Mum, stop it," Emily said, sitting down on a small sofa between us. "Naomi doesn't want to know about my schooldays."

"No Jenna, she's never mentioned it," I interrupted smirking at Emily's face as she realises that her mother is probably going to embarrass her.

"Oh yes, Emily went to the ladies college there, she really was a gifted student. Classics, art, dance, she did them all you know?"

"She did mention enjoying painting and dance last night Jenna, I haven't discovered yet if she's any good or not, it was a bit dark to see her work in that Summerhouse."

Emily cringed as Jenna took another sip of her drink and beamed proudly, "Oh yes, she's very good actually; though I haven't seen her paint in years."

"Really?" I asked raising an eyebrow at Emily, who was busily concentrating on her drink. "Why is that Miss Fitch?"

"Don't really have time anymore," she replied a little sulkily.

"Don't have the inspiration more like," Jenna concluded looking at her daughter sadly. "You need to take some time off Emily Fitch, when was the last time you had a holiday?"

"Give it a rest mum, I know you think I work too hard, you've told me before. I've got responsibilities, you know that too."

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair as, what I assumed to be, an old argument resurfaced. Emily caught my eye as I drained the last of my coke.

"If you'll both excuse me, I think I'll go and make sure everything is under control out there, then turn in if that's ok with you. It's been a long day."

"You don't have to do that Naomi, I'm sorry." Emily started, I held my hands up and she stopped to look at me.

"It's fine Miss Fitch, I really do need to make sure the house is secure, and I really should get some rest. I'll say goodnight then, see you both in the morning; thank you for a wonderful meal Jenna."

"You're very welcome Naomi, sleep well."

o+o+o

I escaped the sitting room and decided to do a quick patrol of the grounds, working my way through the kitchens to the back gardens and then carefully looping around to the front before returning to the back of the house. As I stepped into the kitchen I was surprised to find a familiar face in front of me.

"Fucks sake Sarge, if I'd have known it was you then I wouldn't have come all the way down here again."

"I'm sorry?" I said to Andy as he stood with his hands on his hips looking at me.

"I'd locked up down here and checked outside, then I spotted something suspicious on the CCTV and came to check it out. If I'd have realised it was you I wouldn't have bothered."

I caught his wink and relaxed, knowing that he wasn't being serious. "Just as well you did then Andy, it could have been a ploy of mine to see if you lot were still doing your jobs."

"Well I'm trying," he said grinning at me. "I'm sure it would be made easier if my boss wouldn't keep trying to check up on me in the middle of the night."

I pulled my phone out of my pocket and looked at the clock, five to eleven is hardly the middle of the night, but it is late enough; I'd hoped to be in bed by now, where does the time go?

"Don't think of it as checking up on you Andy, I just can't settle unless I know that everywhere is secure and we're all safe. Old habits die hard you know?"

He nodded sagely before speaking. "Look Sarge, I've got everything covered here, why don't you go and turn in you look like you need a good night's sleep"

"You know it! It's been a long day."

"Well if you don't mind me saying it Sarge, fuck off to bed then and let me do my job."

I thought about it for a second and then nodded, it wouldn't do to undermine the confidence of my team on, what is effectively their first day. Smiling I clapped Andy on the shoulder and winked.

"Well if you insist mate, I'll do just that. Any problems come get me ok?"

"Sure thing Sarge, goodnight."

I navigated my way back to my room, only getting lost the once, confusing myself by taking the old servants stairs at the back of the house up to the upper floor. Finally though I found myself at the big wooden door and pushed through into the relative sanctuary of Katie's old room.

I sat on the bed, pulling off my shoes when there was a knock on the door to Emily's room and her face appeared in the open gap.

"Hey, I thought I heard you. Look I'm sorry about earlier; I, we, didn't mean to embarrass you."

"You didn't," I said flatly, "I just needed to do a sweep and go to bed. I'm tired and I can't settle unless I know everything's secure."

"Oh," she replied looking at her feet, "is that because of, you know..."

"No," I said firmly, probably overstating the lie. "Not everything I do is affected by what happened out there you know."

"Right," she said, still looking down at the plush carpet. "Well I'll probably just let you get some sleep then. Goodnight Naomi."

"Goodnight Emily."

I was half way through pulling my new top over my head when I heard her voice again.

"I meant what I said by the way. If you ever want to talk I'm willing to listen. You were there for me this week, more than once in fact. It's the very least I can do."

"Yeah, thanks," I replied half heartedly, "I'll remember that."

"Do," she said, "So you know, my door's still locked and I've closed my window so I'm all tucked up safe as houses in here. If anyone wants to get me then I guess they'll have to come through you." She smiled and then pirouetted neatly on her toes and vanished, pulling the doors shut behind her.

_'Cheeky cow.'_ I thought chuckling to myself as I got ready for bed, heading into the bathroom to brush my teeth and take off the makeup that Emily had insisted was necessary for the family dinner. It didn't take me long, my attempts at prettying myself up being a lot more subtle than James Fitch's efforts this evening. I even toyed with the idea of staying up a bit longer and enjoying another relaxing soak in that wonderful tub; but frankly my bed was calling and I doubted I'd be able to keep my eyes open long enough to draw a bath, let alone soak in it.

With my luck at the moment I'd probably fall asleep and drown in it.

As I towelled my face dry, I heard a slight chime from my phone and hastily dragged it out of my trouser pocket and looked at it. It was an e-mail from Cook providing me with details about this bloody competition I'd been entered into and I headed back to my bed, absently flicking through the screen and scanning the rules. It wasn't my first mistake of the day, but it did turn out to be my most painful, as I slammed into the corner of the bed frame with my thigh; my injured fucking thigh, right on the gunshot wound that still ached in the cold. It was like a white fire in my skull and I couldn't help dropping my phone and turning the air blue with expletives as the pain shocked through my system; holding onto the bedpost until the room came back to normal.

"Are you ok Nomi?" Emily called out appearing at the joining doors wearing nothing but a large t-shirt.

"I'm fine," I told her, rubbing at the bruise that I knew was already forming on my leg; "and will you please stop calling me that Emily."

"What?" she asked innocently. Not the brightest of moves frankly, I was tired, and now in quite a lot of pain as well; I'm really not in the mood for any of her fucking games.

"You know what!" I replied, probably a little too harshly; "you can stop with the little nickname."

"You call me Ems, I'll call you Nomi," she said without a hint of embarrassment or upset at my words. I simply frowned at her, having no idea what she was on about. I mean yes, I'd seen her use Ems to sign off the note on the dress she's left out for me, and I'd heard people call her it in passing but I've never called her Ems in my life. That really wouldn't be professional.

"You did," she told me as if reading my mind again, frowning back as me as I raised an eyebrow. "You called me Ems when you picked me up from the floor this morning. I don't mind you know, lots of people call me Ems, it's nice. Anyway, if you're not in need of hospital treatment I'll get off to bed, goodnight _Nomi_, pleasant dreams."

I waited until she'd nearly closed the bedroom door before replying, not missing that little emphasis she'd placed on her new nickname for me.

"Goodnight _Miss Fitch_. You too."

She paused in the doorway for a second before closing the doors behind her; it was a victory of sorts I guess, but it still left me with a nasty taste in my mouth. Feeling a little bit guilty I picked up my phone and plugged it into my charger, setting its alarm for 6:30AM hoping to get to the pool for some early morning peace. Finally sorted I quickly pulled off the rest of my clothes and lay back onto the cool sheets and relaxed. I wasn't asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow, but it wasn't far off.

o+o+o

I didn't get the pleasant dreams Emily wished for me, not by a fucking long shot. My dreams were anything but pleasant. Probably caused by the memories that James Fitch had evoked with his stupid fucking questions, my dreams were filled with blood and dust. I was caught in a horrible state, halfway between dream and reality.

I could feel myself threshing around on the bed, but I couldn't wake myself up; instead I seemed to dive further into the vats of blood that surrounded me, filled from the wounds of those that had died around me. As my guilt waged war on me once again, forcing me to replay over and over again the deaths of my friends, I found myself bathed in fire and left in that rocky hollow to face them once more. Grouch and Whitey, Laffiete and Jenkins, Adams, and Jones. Chambers, Harris, Collins and all the rest that I'd lost on my watch. Even as they formed their grim cortège I knew it wasn't over, that there was one more face that I knew was to come. Finally, pushing his way out of the crowd with an accusing finger came Captain Freddie McClair.

_"Why Campbell Why?" _he asked, his finger pointing directly at my heart. _"Why did you let us die?"_

_"Why Campbell Why?" _the rest echoed.

_"You know it should have been you that died that day Naomi Campbell,"_ Whitey said, stepping alongside Freds; his wound pouring blood endlessly onto the sand. _"Why did you let me die in your place? Why does my child have to grow up not knowing his father?"_

_"Why Campbell Why?"_ the dead sang again, tearing my heart in two with their cries.

I was shouting at them, screaming my apologies, protesting my innocence. I hadn't got them killed, not really; but they pressed on regardless, each of them stepping forward, accusing me, denying me my excuses with their stony glares. Over and over again they asked me the same questions, inching closer and closer until they were practically on top of me and as Freds and Whitey raised their arms to grab me I screamed and screamed and screamed...

I screamed myself awake, the faces disappearing into a red haze as reality began to take over and I found myself in a room of horrors, surrounded by more faces, plastic faces, the dolls staring at me as accusingly as my friends and as red as blood. Quickly my brain tried to shut it all out, and I retreated into myself trying to find a safe place to hide.

_"It's ok Nomi, I'm here, it's all ok."_

I could feel my heart racing in my chest, beating its staccato rhythm against my ribcage and I felt myself fighting for breath.

_"Relax Nomi, everything's ok, there's nothing here that can hurt you."_

As the real world began to assert itself into my brain I dimly recognised Emily's voice trying to soothe me and I could feel a pair of arms around me, holding me tight.

_"Is everything ok Emily?"_ another voice entered my fucked up brain, cowering in cover like a frightened mouse.

_"Everything's fine mum. Naomi's just having a nightmare, she'll be ok soon." _

_"She's done this before then?"_

_"Yeah, the night of the attack. She spent most of the night screaming then."_

I'm only vaguely comprehending the conversation, I know they're talking about me, but for some reason I don't know who Emily is talking to and why.

_'Do you think this was caused by what happened at dinner?"_

_"Probably."_

_"Well call me if you need anything Emily."_

_"I will; thanks mum."_

The voices faded away and I was left in silence, my mind finally getting out of its foxhole and venturing forward onto the battlefield.

"Emily?" I croaked, wondering where exactly my real voice had gone. "What are you doing?"

"I'm making sure you're ok Nomi, you were screaming down the house, don't you remember?"

I shook my head, my breathing calming as she rocked me like a baby, her warm body pressed into my chest. As I surfaced from the nightmare, the worst nightmare I'd ever had, I realised that she was hugging me tight to her and I was seeing the world through the filter of her hair as my head rested on her shoulder.

"Just relax Nomi, it was just a nightmare; everything's fine now. I'm here, I won't let anything harm you."

I could feel myself relax at her words, even though I knew it was wrong. It's my job to make sure nothing hurts her, not the other way around. I started to protest, but her hand stroking my hair pulled me up short.

"Shhh, Naomi, it's ok. It's all ok...go back to sleep, it'll be all right."

I felt her lower me down to the bed and tuck the duvet over me as I curled myself up into a little ball.

"That's the way," I heard her say as the dark veil closed over my brain. "Go back to sleep, everything's going to be OK."

o+o+o

My internal clock roused me as normal as the sun was barely breaking over the horizon, the alarm I'd set not even needed. My head was still fuzzy, probably caused by yet another late finish and not helped by waking up again in the middle of the night with what I dimly remember to have been another nightmare.

I feel like warmed up shit; in fact if I'm honest JJ's absolutely right, I need a day off at some point so I can recharge the batteries. I guess I'm not used to working these kind of hours anymore; those wasted months sofa surfing and sleeping on the streets might just have knocked me out of my stride.

As I dragged my brain back into gear, deciding that I'd do what I always do and tough it out until we had an alternative plan; I realised that there was something very wrong with the picture. I've got a dull ache in my left hip and my left leg has practically gone dead. At first I thought it was from where I'd walked into the bed, but then I remembered that that was my right leg, not my left.

With an element of confusion thumping through my fuzzy brain, I carefully reached down my body; running my fingertips along my side, feeling gingerly for the bruise or abrasion that's causing the discomfort. As my fingers reached my hip joint I came across something decidedly unexpected.

I found a lump.

Not a normal lump, the kind of lump you'd expect when you've walked into the bed frame, or something has fallen on you or hit you; but a big lump, a hard lump, a fucking plaster cast feeling lump.

Slowly, carefully, I rolled over in bed for a better look, only to see my fears were not unfounded. Lying next to me, with a daffy grin on her sleeping face, was Emily Victoria Fitch.

_'Oh shit.'_

.

.

.

**A/N** - Oh Naomi...what _have_ you done now (-:

See you next week folks, I'm off to read some great stories and try and get past the block I have with PfP.


	27. The Mourning After

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent and a distinct lack of awesomeness!

Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which still makes me very upset but not as much as before).

**Authors Note **– Evening folks, here's chapter 27. Sorry it's a bit late.

**Chapter 27 – ****The Mourning After**

_'Oh shit.'_

It was one of those moment when you heart just starts beating faster for no good reason. Or perhaps there _was_ a good reason; I mean I've just woken up in bed with my boss. A boss that kissed me not thirty six hours ago. That can't be good right?

Quickly I ran through a mental checklist:

_She's_ still dressed, _check_.

_I'm_ still dressed, _check_.

_I'm_ not hurting from bites or scratches, _check_.

There's no marks on _her_ that I can see, _check_.

There's no marks on _me_ that I see, _check_.

Fingers..._check_…

Safe.

Well I hope I'm safe; I guess I won't really know what the fuck happened until she wakes up. Fuck, I hope I didn't do anything stupid; I mean, I don't drink anymore so the likelihood is that nothing happened. I mean I'd remember wouldn't I? I'm pretty sure I'd remember if something happened with _her_ anyway.

With my nerves jingling, I just lay there; looking on as Emily Fitch slept on next to me, laying on her right side to face me. Her plaster cast was stretched across my stomach now, fingers flexing and her nose twitching slightly as she dreamed away. It's funny, but Mum always used to say that you see the real person when someone is asleep, when their mask is finally dropped and you can see past the bullshit they've created to hide themselves from the world.

Mum's absolutely right as usual; you totally can, I can see that now. I can see what a lovely young lady, Emily Fitch really is. With her mask gone you can see the youth, see the fresh faced beauty that hides behind a workplace scowl and hard unforgiving eyes.

It wasn't until she opened her eyes and looked at me that I realised how long I've been staring at her, I blinked as she stretched and yawned, anxious to make out like I'd only just woke up myself.

"Hey," she said as I allowed my head to flop back onto the pillows. "Morning."

"Good morning," I replied as if having her in my bed was the most natural thing in the world and I wasn't freaked out by it; just two people sharing a space, nothing more than that. "I think I need to get up."

Her plaster covered arm pressed down onto my stomach as I made to get up, to run from this fucked up situation as hard as I could. I held me down, firmly stopping me from running away from the embarrassment and giving me the chance pull up my professional walls once more.

"Are you ok Naomi?" She asked, cutting through

"I'm fine, a little tired still, but otherwise fine."

"Well we don't have to be up until breakfast, and it's still pretty early. Why don't you get some more sleep?"

"I'm not tired any more," I lied, "I really think I should get up."

"If you're not going back to sleep, I really think you should talk to me about things Naomi. I think you need to talk to someone."

I looked across at her, those big brown eyes burning through me.

I'm fine," I told her again.

"But you had a nightmare again."

"Obviously." I said shortly, building up those defences again.

"It was a bad one wasn't it, a really bad one?"

"It wasn't nice, no."

'_Just fucking leave it Emily, please, just fucking leave this alone. Stop digging because you won't like what you find.'_

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

"Does that mean you will?"

"Why would that matter Emily, why do you care? Can't you just let this go?"

She looked at me, shifting uncomfortably under my gaze as I challenged her. I watched as she closed her eyes and took a deep breath before opening them again and glaring back, ensnaring me once more.

"I can't let this go because you scared the shit out of me last night Naomi. " she said passionately. "You were screaming the fucking house down and you sounded fucking terrified; _and_ it's not the first time it's happened. You had a nightmare like that after we got shot at, back at your flat, and you scared me then. I don't want that to happen again Naomi; if you need help I'll get you help, but talk to me, please just talk to me. I promise I'll listen and I won't judge you."

"I don't like talking about it Emily, it's not something people understand. I tried once, it didn't work ok? I'll deal with it."

"Naomi, whatever you're doing to deal with it isn't working. I know this happened because of last night, because of what my idiot brother did and said. You just left us for a while over dinner, you went off somewhere in your head and you were crying at the table. I know I've only known you for a few days but you don't strike me as someone that cries, not in public anyway. Why won't you let me help you?"

"Because you can't help me Miss Fitch," I snapped at her, trying to roll off the bed, "no-one can help. It's all in the past, there's nothing that can be done about it."

Once again she prevented me from escaping, this time sitting up and grabbing me with her one good hand.

"Naomi, I know you're scared of this, I'm scared of it too though. You're supposed to be my unflappable, infallible bodyguard and yet you wake up in the night screaming. I need you to fix this Naomi, you're no use to me broken."

I thought about her words for a second, slumping back onto the bed and ignoring the hand that was now squeezing my shoulder. She's just cleverly ambushed me again, pinned me down with the one attack she much know I can't avoid; the only tactic that would work."

"It's for your own good Naomi, you know that don't you? Stop pushing me away and let me help you."

I could only sit on the edge of the bed and nod, trying desperately to pull together the maelstrom of my thoughts; even now struggling to think of a way out of this. Deep down I know she's right, I'm not much use as a CPO if I can't get a good nights sleep, and I'm not going to get a good nights sleep as long as the ghosts of my past are haunting me every time I get stressed, or I think about my times at war. I thought back to the time when I joined Close Protection, before I'd even met Emily Fitch, the time when I thought of spending my, not yet earned, money on getting some professional help. Perhaps this is as good a way as any of sorting myself out.

It was with a big sigh I admitted defeat, gave in to the relentless barrage attack that she'd subjected me to. I felt her hand touch my arm as she moved to sit next to me on the edge of the bed, as if sensing that I'd surrendered. Oddly enough her touch gave me a hint of courage, allowed me to face up to what I'd been denying; I hadn't been dealing with it, I'd been hiding from it, hoping it would just go away.

I sat there for a few moments, just breathing; in, out…in, out. Settling myself the way I'd been taught all those years ago; centring myself, finding the void. Finally calm I took a deep breath, opened my eyes, and began.

"It started after I got home, after I was forced to leave the army."

"The nightmares?"

"Yeah."

I swung my legs back onto the bed, tucking my feet under the duvet and leaning back against the headboard, wrapping my arms around my knees. Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Emily sit up and match my pose, staring at me; waiting for me to continue.

"Is it always the same one, or is it different?" she asked, breaking the silence that had fallen between us.

"Pretty much the same every time; but from what I remember, last nights was a doozy."

"Sorry what do you mean a doozy?" she asked, face furrowed in confusion. I guess you don't pick up silly terms when you go to a posh school and a posh Uni.

"Doozy Ems, you know; something extraordinary, extra special, beyond the norm?"

"I know what doozy means Nomi, I'm not stupid," she replied laughing at herself. "I meant how was it _different_, last nights nightmare that is?"

"It was more, I don't know…more powerful I guess, more intense; does that make sense?" She nodded, but didn't interrupt.

"Anyway, the guys actually tried to grab me this time, that's when I woke up. That's never happened before."

"You were calling out names Nomi, 'Whitey' was one, you mentioned him before, back at the office. You didn't want to talk about him, is this why?"

I shrugged, it was and it wasn't. it wasn't the nightmares that stopped me talking about what happened to Paul, it was what happened to Paul that caused the nightmares; at least in part anyway.

"How many times has this happened Nomi? Is this a regular thing?"

I shook my head, "It didn't really kick in until I was sofa surfing, after I left the service. I was getting drunk and crashing at friends houses, the nightmares started then."

I paused, running through the chain of events in my head; hoping that a bit of clarity might emerge from the turbulence. Hoping for an insight into what was wrong with me and why, let me understand why I was broken.

"When I was on the streets I didn't have them, well maybe once or twice. I didn't really sleep very well beck then, it wasn't really safe to sleep too deeply; too many wankers thinking a woman alone is easy prey."

I opened my eyes as I felt something soft and warm touch me, Emily's right hand was resting on my knee, her fingers gently squeezing. She withdrew it the second she noticed me looking at it; again, I missed the touch, it was oddly comforting.

"It must have been tough on you, not having a home."

"I've not had a home for a long time now Ems, not really. The Army was a kind of home, I was at least happy there and I was with people I cared about; but it's not a 'home', home you know? It's not _family_ home, not really. It was just a place to live."

I surprised myself with that little admission, I'd convinced myself for years that the Army was my home, that my boys were my family. I think that memory of my real home yesterday reminded me of what I lost when Mum died.

"What about Amy?" she asked, the slightest hint of contempt creeping into her voice. "Didn't you ever find a home with her?"

"You heard what I said to her the other day, I wasn't lying."

"Didn't you _ever_ love her?"

That was a curious question to ask I thought, and not an easy one to answer. I sifted through my thoughts in order to answer honestly.

"I cared for her, but I think I was more in love with the idea of her, I guess we were both guilty of that. She liked the tough squaddie she could parade around and I liked the idea of the supermodel girlfriend. You know, tall, dark and gorgeous."

She stiffened at my comment, of course she wouldn't know, one drunken kiss and a bit of banter does not a lesbian make. Christ if it did, then there are an awful lot of confused straight girls out there.

"Anyway," I said quickly to cover the awkwardness, "it never felt like home, it was always 'her place' it was never ours. I never moved in, I just visited; it's how I liked it you know, never tied down?"

"What about..."

"I _don't_ want to talk about Amy Emily, this is hard enough without bringing her into it. She wasn't like home, end of story."

We fell silent for a while, I'm feeling a little guilty at snapping at her like that; she's just fallen into a closed off silence. The only sound in the room is the hiss of the heating as the hot water pumped through the pipes, the chirping of the birds outside and the ragged sound of my breathing as I laboured with my 'confessional'.

"So what is the nightmare?" She asked suddenly, "can you tell me about it? Perhaps if we start there we can find a way to break it down."

"You sound awfully knowledgeable about all this Emily," I said, trying to avoid going there.

"Yeah well, I had a lot of counselling when I was a teenager and sort of fell into doing it myself when I was at Uni. Got my qualifications and everything, ended up as a student counsellor while I studied. Enjoyed it really, it was nice to give something back you know? Help people."

"You had counselling?" I asked seeing the opportunity to divert this conversation before I'm forced to resurrect the demons that haunt me. "I wouldn't have thought someone like you would have needed it."

She stiffened again, a reflex action presumably.

"What does that mean," she asked angrily, "'someone like you'?"

I've obviously offended her, once again without meaning to. Still it's an out, my escape plan is working. I'm under the wire and digging like fury for the woods on the outskirts of the camp.

"It means that I just don't expect someone like you to need counselling that's all. It's not as if you're a dormouse or anything. You've got a great family and a nice home, and I can't see you being bullied at school, not if you went to Cheltenham Ladies. They're all very proper there aren't they?"

"Well I did," she said shortly, her whole body tensing up as she spoke, her knuckles gleaming white as she gripped her arms tightly; "…and the college isn't the fucking perfect school they make out you know? Katie and I, well, we weren't _old_ money were we? A lot of the girls resented us being there, resented the fact that our family were better off than theirs even though we didn't have a fucking title to our names or shit like that. We were fucking commoners to the fucking 'It' girls that went there and we were not fit to talk to."

"So you _were_ bullied," I said, horrified at the thought. "Jesus, I'm sorry Emily; I honestly didn't think anyone would be able to bully you."

'_Can't think why anyone would _want_ to bully you. There's not a bad bone in your whole body is there?'_

"Yeah, well Katie didn't stand for it, she was always the strong one at school, the brave one..the one that made all the friends. I just sort of tagged along behind her most of the time."

There was a hint of resignation and sadness to her voice, as if the memory wasn't one she enjoyed. I can't say I blame her, Katie Fitch-Brace is a pretty powerful character, it must be hard being her sister. It's sad, Emily seems to have been suffocated by her sister almost all her life. She's still fighting Katie for her fathers love even now, when she's so obviously not his favourite; and this little revelation tells me that she fought for friends at school as well.

"I didn't have many friends at school either," I told her, once again frightening myself with my openness. "Didn't really have any friends until I joined up. I was a bit of a loner me."

"Yeah, me too," she said sadly. "I only had one or two people that were _my_ friends, not Katie's."

"She's a bit of a livewire your sister, she's nice; even if she seems a little, well, self absorbed?"

"Self centred more like, selfish even. Most of the time she's a right fucking bitch. She's only nice to people when she wants something, or sees an advantage for herself in the situation."

"Oh."

"Oh indeed, don't get me wrong I love her to bits, she's my sister. But it doesn't mean I actually have to _like_ her you know. Anyway, don't think I haven't noticed what you're trying to do. Enough distractions Naomi, enough trying to make me talk about me, to stop me asking about you."

She twisted to face me and placed her hand onto my forearm squeezing gently.

"It was a nice try though, I'll give you that." She said, smiling for the first time that morning, properly smiling that is. Her face lit up as she let her amusement shine through.

"So go on Nomi, you were telling me about the nightmares. You say they're not regular, do they crop up when you're reminded of things; like last week? like last night?"

"I don't know Ems," I told her truthfully, "they just seem to crop up on me, I don't know when or why. I've never really considered them. This is the first time I've ever thought about them in fact. I've always tried to ignore them and hope they'll go away."

"But they don't do they? That's why it's important to talk Nomi, it's important to let your feelings out like this."

I shrugged again, I'm doing nothing of the kind; I'm just talking about the nightmares and what they do. Detached, unemotionally, clinically in fact. It's the only way I can survive.

"So what happens Nomi? If you can, tell me exactly what happens."

I lay back into my pillows and sighed, I really don't want to do this but I think I know I need to, need to be brave, need to get through this to see what happens.

"It starts out in fire. It's always the same, I'm always surrounded by fire…"

o+o+o

"So there you go," I told her, after spilling my guts all over the floor and watching them slip and slide around as I described each and every nuance of the story. To my relief Emily didn't say a word as I spoke, simply making noises at appropriate sections of my description, as if to tell me that she was still listening. Occasionally she would touch me, or put her hand into mine and squeeze, usually at the times when I was describing the real horrors that I saw when the boys came back to accuse me.

"That was very brave of you Nomi, thank you."

I'm confused, thank you for what exactly? I rolled onto my side and asked her that very question.

"Thank you for sharing it with me of course, it took a lot of courage to go there again; to put yourself through that much pain willingly. I feel really privileged that you would choose to share that with me. That you would want me to help you in some way."

I was about to reply when there was a soft knock at the door. Before I could say anything Emily had already shouted "Come in."

I nearly died when the dark head of Jenna Fitch appeared around the door, staring at me in bed with her daughter. Without a word she entered the room, closing the door behind her, and walked up to where we lay.

"Good morning girls, is this a private slumber party or can anyone join in?"

I couldn't say a word out of shock as Emily laughed and patted the bed. Jenna smiled back and sat herself at the bottom of the bed patting my outstretched foot as she settled down.

"How are you feeling this morning Naomi dear, you gave us all quite a fright last night?"

I looked at her blankly before turning to Emily and staring at her, silently pleading for her to put me put of my misery.

"Mum's room is just down the corridor Naomi, she heard you last night; came in to see if you were all right."

I nodded, vaguely remembering something about another person in the room last night, someone Emily was talking to while she held me. If I put two and two together then that person must have been Jenna.

'_Hang on, she held me!'_ I had a sudden recollection of Emily holding me tightly in a hug whilst she was talking to this other person; that means Jenna must have seen us like that. I could feel myself starting to blush; Jesus, what the fuck is she going to think? Especially after Emily's antics at the dinner table last night.

"Yes you gave us quite the scare last night Naomi dear, fortunately it looked like Emily was able to calm you down. She said you suffer from nightmares."

I nodded, still unable to speak.

"Naomi's just been telling me about them Mum, I'm afraid I've been doing my Marj Proops act again."

They shared a laugh as I looked on confused. "It's a private joke Naomi dear, Marjorie Proops was an Agony Aunt in the tabloid newspapers when I was younger. When Emily decided to take on the role of a student counsellor when she was at University I used to tease her by calling her Oxford's answer to Marj Proops."

I gave a short nod, to indicate that I understood. This was feeling all a little bit awkward. Mother daughter bonding over my fucking nightmares, whilst they're both sat as cool as cucumbers on my fucking bed.

"I was just telling Naomi how brave she was Mum; for telling me all about what she experiences when she has the nightmares. She's been acting all tough, but it can't have been easy for her. I'm pretty sure I wouldn't be able to cope with them."

I shrugged again once more as Jenna looked at me with warm affection in her eyes. Once again I'm reminded why I like this woman, she actually seems to give a shit.

"So what's the diagnosis Dr Fitch?" Jenna said, patting my foot again. "Will the patient live?"

"I think the patient needs to talk about what's behind the nightmares," she said seriously, gripping my arm again. "The patient, needs to tell me what happened to her friend Paul."

"and why exactly does the patient need to do that?" I asked, sarcastically emphasising the word 'patient' trying to indicate that I didn't find it funny.

"You need to talk about it Naomi because it's the stressor, the initiator if you like of the really big nightmares. I know it started with the ambush you talk about, but the real problems seem to stem from when this Paul started to appear in them and the things that he and the others say to you. Whatever happened to your friend Paul seems to be the trigger to the rest of the nightmare. He's the one you describe in the most detail. He's the one with the open wound that's still bleeding. 'Whitey' is the person who's name you call out most when you're gripped by the nightmare. Paul White is the key Naomi, Paul White is the person you feel the most guilt about."

Her words hit me like a combination from a heavyweight boxer, left, right and left again. How the fucking hell had she worked that out, and guilt? She couldn't be serious could she? How the fuck did she work out that I still felt guilty for Paul's death years after the event, that I hadn't gotten over the fact that I'd killed him, that I'd left his unborn son practically an orphan.

"Whitey was a mate," I told her, "He was killed in Kandahar a couple of years ago."

"Can you talk about it?" Emily asked, her voice soft and low. I pulled my hands behind my head as I slumped onto that soft warm bed and shook my head.

"I think you should try Naomi, Emily's usually right about these things, "Jenna said her voice as soft as her daughters. I felt movement around me and I opened my eyes to see her walking over to the bedroom door, opening it and looking around outside before closing it firmly and locking it behind her.

"There, it's just us girls now. No-one else to interrupt."

She sat back onto the bed, her hand on my knee. It was strange, I was surrounded by Fitch's; Emily to my left, Jenna to my right. Two people that I barely knew, had known for less than a week; yet wanted nothing more right at that moment than to sit with me and try and help me, to be my friends. It's fucking scary, I don't _do_ friends, not since Kandahar.

"Naomi, whatever you want to share with us is fine," Emily said leaning over and placing her plaster cast covered hand onto my shoulder. "..and I'm sorry to push you, but I really do think it will help if you talk to us about what happened. Let's start with the easy question first and see how we do; who was Paul Naomi?"

The easy question…if only it actually was easy. How do you describe your best friend? How can you tell another person that you were so close to someone that you practically thought the same? I could feel Emily's eyes watching me as I struggled with the concept, could hear Jenna's soft breathing as they effortlessly gave me the time I needed.

"Paul was my friend," I spurted out finally, the words pushing past the block in my throat, breaching the dam. "He was probably my best friend ever; we did everything together, fought, cried, drank…everything."

"He obviously meant a lot to you Naomi," Jenna said from her spot to my right. "Tell us about him."

"He was a twat, a total twat. He was crude, rude, ignorant, boorish and I loved him for it. He took no shit from anyone, least of all me, and yet he had your back all the time. We fought shoulder to shoulder from the streets of Basra to the wilds of Afghanistan and I only once had cause to think anything bad of him."

"Why was that Nomi," Emily asked, unconsciously slipping back into that silly pet name she'd given me. I felt Jenna's hand grip me a little tighter for a second, before relaxing. I told them all about me and Paul, the fight in Germany, the closeness we'd had ever since. How he'd supported me, helped me through the rough times, about his stupid fucking 'motto' for us and how many times we'd come close to death and yet pulled each other out of the fire on every occasion.

I told them about Ibiza, going for a good time and ending up both meeting people, about Gill, and Amy, and how it had affected us; pulling us apart and yet making us closer at the same time.

"He dropped the bombshells in '07," I told her laying on that bed and staring at the ceiling. "Before we shipped out he took Gill to stay in a posh hotel for her birthday, and over dinner he proposed. I got an excited phone call from him from the toilets after she said yes, said he couldn't wait to share his news with me. I couldn't shut him up about it the next time I saw him; wanted me to be the best man at his wedding. We headed out on tour not long after, we went back to Afghanistan, did a couple of months and all met up in Dubai on leave. I didn't see much of Paul and Gill, but Amy and I had a pretty crappy time. We didn't part very well Amy and me, she didn't want me going back as usual and just couldn't accept that is was something I had to do. Eventually I agreed to think about it, just to shut her up. I agreed to think about leaving my life in the Army but I wasn't one little fucking bit happy about it. Gill never put that kind of pressure on Whitey, she just accepted him for what he was.

Anyway, we went back to Butlins and got stuck in, patrols, protection duties, the usual stuff; and it was while we were on our tour that Whitey got the phone call from home telling him Gill was pregnant…"

I paused for a second, remembering just how ecstatic Whitey had been, one brief moment of absolute joy in a tour marked with sadness.

"…couldn't shut him up about that either. He kept telling me that the timing was perfect, they were having a baby boy and Gill was going to give birth in the New Year while we were on our UK rotation, then they were getting married in Spring. His life was fucking perfect and he was so fucking happy; we were happy, I was made up for him..."

I broke off there, not really able to go on. It's pathetic really, big, brave Naomi Campbell floored by a memory; fucked up by nothing more than her past. Mother and daughter remained quiet, lounging on my bed like this really was a slumber party; but there was a quiet tension in the room, a tension I had generated with my words. This time it was my turn to fill the gap, it was finally my time to let it all out and tell someone my side of what had happened. Not a shitty little debrief, all operational questions and hints of command mistakes; but a proper discussion, something I hadn't managed to do even with the Regimental shrink.

"It was a cold day in December when it happened, " I started carefully, as if telling a story. "I'll never forget it, you could see the air condensing in front of you as you breathed out…"

o+o+o

_Kandahar, Afghanistan – December 2007_

"_Cold as your fucking heart today Snowy," Whitey said as we sat in the back of the armoured cars on the way to the pickup. He breathed out into my face to emphasise the point, the warm droplets of water turning into cloudy vapour as he did so._

"_Fuck you Whitey," I replied sweetly. "We can't all be loved up all the fucking time. See if you're acting the same way next year after Paul Jr. has appeared and it's all dirty nappies, no sleep and even less sex."_

"_I'll be loved up before during and after Snowy mate, and you know it."_

"_Yeah, you probably will be," I conceded. Funny thing was I meant it as well. I'd known Whitey for four, nearly five years now and I'd never seen him so happy. Poor fucker was totally besotted with Gill, and their soon to arrive brat-ling._

"_When you going to make an honest woman of Amy then Snowy? Gill thinks you'd have lovely kids, and she's desperate to be a bridesmaid as well as a bride."_

_I spat out a laugh and cuffed him on the shoulder, ignoring the fact that it had no effect; Whitey always wore the shoulder plates for his Osprey body armour. I fucking hated them, they always made me sit funny in the cramped back of the almost useless Vector armoured lorry that we were travelling in; I could never get comfortable wearing those pads. Besides, who got killed from a shoulder wound?_

"_Don't think that's going to happen mate," I told him, "thinking of giving her the elbow to be honest."_

"_What!" He exclaimed, disbelief in his voice. "You were batting well above your fucking average with her in the first place mate. Dunno how you could even think of dumping her."_

"_It's not like you and Gill mate, "I told him, "we've got nothing in common. Nothing but pretty great sex anyway. I fucking hate her mates, and they hate me as well; they're nothing but a bunch of fucking stuck up wankers that look down at me because I work out here and dress like this."_

"_Yeah, but still…" Whitey replied weakly. He'd met Amy's friends, he and Gill had been invited to a barbeque we'd had at Amy's. We went off and got pissed at the local eventually, sick and tired of glasses of wine being passed back and forth amongst them, along with barely veiled insults at what we both did._

"_I'll see if it's any better when we get home," I told him to shut him up. "Dubai was a fucking disaster, as you would know if you and the Mrs ever left your hotel room."_

"_Hey! It's not my fault I find pregnant women sexy."_

"_Paul you find goats sexy remember?"_

_He grinned back at me and bleated, it had been a running joke between us since our early days in Iraq and we both thrived on the banter._

"_You need to think straight though Snowy yeah? Don't go doing anything stupid; see how you feel after a few weeks of being home. It might be different now we've got some time back in the UK. I know you, you always do this; make everything worse in your head and try and fuck things up. Think it through Snowy, don't piss your life away over a whim yeah?"_

"_Yeah, I guess," I said leaning the back of my helmet against the metal side panel and slumping back. "Perhaps it is my fault things went shitty in Dubai. For your information, Amy actually asked me to marry her."_

"_Fucking what? Snowy, why didn't you tell me?"_

"_Because I said no."_

"_What the fuck did you do that for you twat?" he shouted shoving me hard with his shoulder, knocking me into Chunks who was sat next to me; no longer the unit rookie and quite a good soldier despite Whitey's efforts to corrupt him._

"_Because…" I answered, regaining my seat. "Just fucking because…"_

"_Fucks sake Snowy, you can't do this to me. I'm _so_ looking forward to delivering your best man's speech one of these days; I've got stories about you that will turn Amy's hair white and probably kill a few of her stuck-up mates for good measure."_

"_Yeah well you want to think about being nice to me mate, just remember that I know a lot about you; and I've already arranged for your goat friend from Iraq to turn up at the wedding…you know ready for that bit about 'cause, or just impediment' or whatever."_

"_You wouldn't fucking dare!" he said, the smile on his lips belaying the shock that he'd painted on his face._

"_Probably not mate, but just remember I'm going to be giving that very speech next spring, so you'd better start being nice to me or I'll tell everyone about Limassol."_

_Whitey let out a loud laugh at the memory of us nearly getting arrested for drunken lewd behaviour when we were on leave in '03; the police not seeing the funny side of us mooning at a tourist bus of OAP's that had been giving us funny looks. His continued amusement was only interrupted as the crew of the truck shouted down that we were approaching our destination._

"_This is it Snowy, one more drop off then it's back to base, pack up and fuck off. This time week after next we'll be feet up in Blighty and looking forward to Christmas dinner and a sleep in front of the fire."_

_He was right, tomorrow was technically our last day in Afghanistan, this was our last operational mission. We were in the tail vehicle of the protection convoy that was nannying a three star American General around the city of Kandahar on an 'fact-finding mission'. Fuck knows what that meant and frankly I didn't care. All I needed to know was that we had one stop to go and then, as Whitey rightly said, it was back to base to pack up and fuck off home; and leave the cold, leave the dust and leave the danger behind._

"_Sarge?" came a voice from up front, "message from the Captain. Says, 'tell Campbell that we're stopping in three and I want the rear secure as normal before we let the cat out of the bag'."_

"_Yeah, got it. Ask him if he wants to teach me how to suck eggs as well?" I knew I was safe with that, even if it did get back to Freds. He was a good officer and wasn't terribly precious about 'military behaviour' and a little bit of banter; seeing combat did that to you._

"_Right boys and girls," I announced to the vehicle, checking my weapon as I did so; getting ready for anything that might happen once the back door opened. "Let's make this nice and clean ok? Standard deployment, I'm out first, then Whitey, Chunks and Plug. I want a quick sit-rep and then Whitey you call it into McClair yeah? Let's try and get this muppet inside as fast as we can, then we can all go home, ok?"_

_The almost obligatory fist bumps signalled my little teams readiness for the operation. I could feel the adrenaline starting to pump in readiness for the possibility of danger. This was supposed to be a milk run, we hadn't been anywhere that was considered overtly hostile and yet you never took anything at face value. Carefully I got out of my seat and stood, hunched and ready in the Vector waiting for it to stop._

"_Snowy, laces," Whitey said, causing me to look down at my boots; to my surprise, there was fuck all wrong with my laces. As I looked up to see what he was playing at, Whitey had moved in front of me and was stood with his hand on the rear hatch._

"_Whitey what the fuck are you doing?"_

"_Must be my turn to go first Snowy, besides…you said I'd better start being nice to you if you're not going to fuck me over on the stag night or your fucking speech. Consider this me being nice."_

_I didn't have time to reply as the Vector pulled to a halt at our destination. With a tap on his shoulder I indicated that Whitey should open the door and head out. The light was almost blinding as the door swung open empting the cabin of the dull gloom that we'd been sitting in for the last three quarters of an hour. I squinted and looked out, weapon readied as Whitey dropped to the floor in front of me, and I followed him out._

_I felt the blood spray before I heard the sound of the gunshot. Everything played out in slow motion, sounds merging into one as the events played out in front of me like a bad movie. As I looked on in horror, Whitey was spun around as the bullet hit him. I knew he was dead right at that moment, he had no chance; the round hitting him full in the chest, just above the body armour that was supposed to save his life. As he twisted around I was hit by a spray of his warm blood, it flicked across my face and it's acrid, ionic taste was on my lips as my tongue flicked out involuntarily, tasting the end of my best friends life._

"_Contact rear, man down, get into cover and return fire if you acquire the hostile!" I yelled as I dived headlong into cover, scanning the rooftops for the sniper that was probably already on the move. The words sounded extended, drawn out; empty. It was, for a second, like I wasn't present in my own body; like I was absently looking on from outside as the soldiering machine that was Sergeant Naomi Campbell went about the business of making sure the rest of her people were safe. _

_Once we secured the rear, rifles pointed at the rooftops, soldiers praying for a glimpse of a target; Captain McClair and the rest of the team helped to secure the location and bundled the package up in his armour and rushed him into the building._

_With a sudden surge of distaste I ran over to where I had left Whitey's body and dragged him back into cover. I wanted to check his pulse, wanted to feel a faint beat on my fingers that signified that all was not lost and my best mate was still with me. In the end I didn't bother, I simply stared down into his lifeless eyes, eyes that had been full of hope and joy only moments before; and I knew he was gone. Paul White was no more, and my life suddenly felt empty and bitter._

_The team spent the next hour or so kicking in doors and terrifying the locals. We knew that we had no hope of finding the fucker that had killed my only real friend, but we looked anyway. Kicking in doors and waving rifles in the faces of terrified occupants seemed a good way to spend our time, our anger at losing one of our own magnifying with every intransigent face._

_The next couple of days were a nightmare of red tape. Reviews, investigations, recriminations. Our return home was delayed by the death of my friend, in fact his body arrived long before I did, being driven through the streets of Wootton Bassett with full honours on his way to his last resting place. I didn't even get to go to the funeral, didn't get to say goodbye to my friend, didn't get to say sorry. But then that's war, that's what happens._

_It was Christmas Eve when we arrived back in the UK, what was supposed to be a happy time, a time spent with the people you cared about; a time to celebrate life not mourn a loss, once again my Christmas was marred by misery._

_I barely had a smile to share as I was wrapped up in a hug by Amy as I stepped off the coach; but I did allow myself a moment to try and enjoy that hug, enjoy the feeling that someone, somewhere, actually cared about me. It didn't work though, I still just felt empty inside, incomplete for the second time in my life. Laying back on Amy's bed in the early hours of Christmas Morning, bodies still sheened in sweat after the 'welcome home' sex session, I had a chance to reflect for the first time since the shooting. I had the peace and the time to properly look at myself and see who I was. It was a different Naomi Campbell that landed on British soil that day, a broken Naomi Campbell and I desperately wanted someone to fix me. The trouble was, the only two people I knew could manage it were both dead; and they'd never be able to help me ever again._

_I made a vow that cold Christmas Morning, I wouldn't let anyone get close to me again, not Amy, not the guys in the unit, no-one. My heart would never be the same again, I wouldn't _let_ it feel like this ever again. _

o+o+o

_Present Day_

The silence in the room was absolute as I finished telling them the story of what happened to Whitey. As I, for the very first time since it happened, poured out my heart to someone else, two people in fact.

I lay on that bed, surrounded by dolls and toys and everything girlie and waited for their condemnation, waited for the inevitable rejection that was to come. The silence continued inexorably until finally Emily spoke once more.

"Thank you Naomi, that really can't have been easy for you."

There she goes again with the fucking thank you's, I am surprised though, she sounds calm, sincere, a little sad even; there's no hint of the accusation I was expecting.

"Yes, thank you for sharing that Naomi," Jenna added; her hand gently patting my foot.

I ignored them both, staring resolutely at the ceiling. I didn't need their thanks, what I really needed was for them both to fuck off so I could find myself again. Put back my professionalism so I could go about my life the way I had since Kandahar.

"Can I ask you one more thing Nomi," Emily asked softly. "Why do you feel guilty about Paul's death. There wasn't anything you could do about it was there? It was just bad luck. It wasn't anyone's fault."

I felt my body tense at her words as my guilt and anger at Whitey's death consumed me once more. I practically jumped off the bed, eyes flashing as I stared at her, sat there like some kind of fucking oracle; passing on her words of fucking wisdom and yet not understanding anything at all. I clenched my fists so tightly I could feel my nails cutting into my palms.

"Of course it was _my_ fucking fault, it was _all_ my fucking fault. Don't you fucking understand that?"

She took my rage and let it wash over her, as she looked at me impassively and shook her head.

"I don't Nomi, I really don't. I can't see why you would see it as being your fault."

"Because he went _first_," I snapped, tears pouring down my face as I admitted my guilt to the world for the first and hopefully last time. "He was my best friend in the fucking world and I let him go _first_. It was _my_ job to go out first, _my_ job to take that risk…"

They looked at me with confusion on their faces as I tried to explain what should be obvious.

"…it's my fault because it should have been _me_ that took that bullet. It's my fault because it's _me_ that should be dead. Whitey should be married and playing with his son today and I should be lying in the fucking ground next to my mum. _I'm_ the one that's supposed to be fucking dead, can't you see that?

It's my fucking fault he's dead because I let him down… it's my fault he's fucking dead because it was supposed to be me!"

.

.

.

**A/N** – Right sorry folks, I know I'm a week later than I try to be. Just so you know last week me and Mrs Es broke up after a fucking long time and my mind is a little elsewhere at the moment, too many things to think about. Anyway, not after sympathy, (don't do sympathy at all), just thought I'd explain myself because I like to keep a schedule and don't like letting people down. Updates will still occur, but only as the mood takes me at the moment. I'm hoping that writing will be good therapy, but at the moment it's not quite there yet.

Thanks to the peeps on twitter for keeping me sane (or is that insane) over the last few days, vangoughgurrl…sorry for breaking your matrix (-:


	28. Priorities in Life

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent and a distinct lack of awesomeness!

Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which still makes me very upset but not as much as before).

**Authors Note **– I joined a gym again this week...expect less writing and more complaining about aches and pains (-: Here's Chapter 28 for your reading pleasure.

**Chapter 28 – Priorities in Life**

"_It's my fucking fault he's dead because I let him down… it's my fault he's fucking dead because it was supposed to be me!"_

I felt the bed shift as I was dragged into a tight hug, both mother and daughter reaching out to grab me. Seriously, what is it with this family and fucking hugs, I've been hugged more times over the last couple of days than I think I've been hugged in my entire life.

Still for once I don't mind; for once, it feels good to be hugged by strangers. I sat there on that bed with my eyes pouring tears of guilt and grief. For the first time in years I allowed myself to cry in public, in fact it was the first time since my breakdown in Basra when I'd allowed myself to cry at all.

I hadn't cried when mum finally succumbed to the cancer that had ravaged her body, not externally anyway. There had been so much to do, put stuff into storage, get the house on the market, find the money to pay for her funeral. I didn't have time to cry, didn't have time to do anything really.

I hadn't even cried when Whitey was killed, far too shocked and numb at the events that had happened to cry for him. I came close when McClair and I went to see Gill, I felt my eyes prickle when she told me to go away and never to come back; I'd sucked it up though, I was a big strong snow queen, and snow queens don't cry.

Not now though, for whatever reason Emily's soft probing had broken me one more; opened up my little box of memories and allowed everything to flood out, rather than leak away into my dreams like it had been doing for the last few months. The constant drip, drip, drip of guilt had been bad enough; the outpouring that had just occurred was crippling. There was nothing I could do but allow myself to be held and quietly sob.

Finally I cried myself out, still wrapped in that twin embrace of Jenna and Emily Fitch; finally I managed to start rebuilding my defensive lines, shoving things back into their little boxes and closing the lids. I sniffed loudly as I pulled myself together and felt a set of arms release me and a pair of lips press themselves to my forehead and softly kiss me.

"I hope you're feeling better now Naomi dear," Jenna's soft voice with that faint hint of a Scottish accent said. "Sometimes you just need to let everything out. I can't imagine the things you've gone through, and I can't imagine how hard it was to bottle all that up for the last three years. But I'm happy that you allowed us in, now we can begin to help you; if that's what you want that is."

I nodded slightly, almost involuntarily. I do want help, I really don't want to suffer those nightmares for the rest of my life; don't want to feel like people can't rely on me because of my messed up head, don't want to put Emily at risk because of it either.

"Right then, I'm going to get Andrew to sort out breakfast for us all, and tomorrow I'm going to make a phone call to the family therapist. She's very good and I'm sure she'll be able to help you, if that's ok with you Naomi."

"You don't have to do that Jenna," I sniffed, trying once more to pull myself together. "I can look into getting myself some help."

"Naomi for the last time, you saved my favourite daughters life and that's something I'll never be able to repay you for. I _want_ to help you help yourself, nothing would give me more pleasure."

"Thanks," I replied, feeling slightly embarrassed. These are my employers, not my friends and here I am blubbing away and having them worry about me. "Look, Jenna, I'm sorry about all this; it's not your burden. I planned on getting myself sorted when I got this job, I just haven't had much time to sort things out since then, what with everything that's gone on. I'm really sorry that it all got messed up last night, it really shouldn't have happened. I promise it won't let it affect how I do my job; Miss Fitch here will still be safe with me."

"It's perfectly all right Naomi, don't let it worry you in the slightest. I suspect it was our fault it happened in the first place, or should I say James' fault. I think he opened the door to a room you try not to go into last night, didn't he?"

She smiled and ruffled my hair before continuing, "...and if I thought there would be any impact of this on you protecting my daughter here, let me assure you you'd be out of the door faster than you could say 'pull'. I know that isn't the case though Naomi dear, I have an idea of just how good you are; I trust you."

I watched as she walked towards the door, unlocking it and pulling it open. She paused in the doorframe and looked back at me. "One last thing Naomi, it's ok to need help sometimes; and it's ok to ask for it as well. Don't go beating yourself up because you allowed yourself a rare moment of vulnerability; you should be congratulating yourself on being brave enough to do it. Now, breakfast at nine as usual girls; I hope that's ok."

Without another word she slipped out of the room, silently closing the door behind her. I felt a rare feeling of affection clutch at my chest as she left; the files had it all wrong about Jenna Fitch, she wasn't a harridan, she wasn't an adulteress with a broad streak of bigotry; she was a wonderful, caring woman that loved her family and would put herself out for a complete stranger like me. Emily, Katie and James were lucky to have her, she reminded me a little of my mum; she wasn't as good, or as kind obviously, but they should be proud of her. Part of me thinks she's pretty fucking wonderful.

I let out a sigh and reached out my arms so I could wipe dry my cheeks with the sleeves of my T-Shirt. As I, shifted to clean myself up I dislodged the pair of arms that were still wrapped around my waist.

"She's a great woman your mother, " I said as Emily moved around on the bed to face me.

"Yeah, I know," she replied smiling sadly, tucking her thumb into the sleeve of her long sleeved top and reaching out to dry my cheeks properly. "She's done so much for me over the years, I love her to bits."

For some reason I couldn't meet her gaze, I think that I'm just embarrassed that she'd seen deeper into my soul than anyone since mum; possibly even further than mum had been allowed to go. With another sad smile she cupped my chin and pulled my head up until I met her gaze.

"Mum's right though Nomi, it's ok to need help. I'm sorry if I pushed you to go further than you wanted to. I feel a bit ashamed that it went as far as it did actually. I thought you needed pushing to get past that block, but I think I shoved you rather than pushed you and that wasn't fair. I thought I could help, didn't realise it was as serious as this. I'm sorry that I upset you like this, I really am."

I gave her an understanding look, not really able to speak; too emotionally drained to do anything but sit there in truth. She leaned in and hugged me once more, pressing her cheek to mine as she did so. Slowly she leaned back and looked at me once more, her big brown eyes soft.

"I want you to understand something though Nomi; what happened with your friend, it's not your fault. You can't blame yourself for anything, he made his decision, you said it yourself he tricked you so he could take your place. It's just one of those things that happen, call it fate if you like."

"But I should have stopped him," I told her; the rush of guilt beginning again. "I should have made sure I was first out of that door. It should have been me that got hit."

"You don't know that Nomi, you can't know that. Either way it doesn't make a difference, it happened, it wasn't your fault, and no-one could possibly blame you for it."

Deep down I knew she was right, I shouldn't blame myself for their deaths; my mind had even protested that fact in reply to their accusations in my nightmares, but it was to no avail. Part of me still thinks it's my fault everyone died, part of me is still lost in that shitstorm that the shrinks call survivors guilt. She was wrong about no-one blaming me though, someone in the world blamed me; someone in the world blamed me as much, if not more, than I blamed myself. But there wasn't anything I could do about that. Not today anyway. Weariness once again overtaking me, I closed my eyes and yawned; only to open them abruptly as I felt a slight push on my shoulders.

"Why don't you try and get some more sleep Nomi, it's not even seven o'clock yet, there's plenty of time until breakfast. Grab yourself another hour or so, you look like you need it." She grinned cheekily, changing my mood in an instant, "besides, I can't have my CPO falling asleep on me this afternoon can I?"

I gave her my best attempt at a smile, nodded and allowed her to push me back down into the mattress; snuggling my head into the pillows as she pulled the duvet over me once more.

"Get some sleep Nomi, I'll be just next door if you need me."

"I wish you wouldn't call me that, " I told her as my eyes closed and sleep began to catch me up, "it's not at all professional."

"No, you're right it isn't is it?" she replied. There was a pause as I began to drift off, feeling my consciousness sinking into the abyss. Before I was lost, I heard a soft whisper, a comment I assume I wasn't supposed to hear, if I heard it at all.

"But that really doesn't matter does it? Not between us, not anymore. Not for me anyway; sleep well Nomi, I wish you pleasant dreams."

If she said anything else I didn't hear her, lost in the darkness that was sleep.

o+o+o

I woke to the sound of a knock at the door, as I cracked open my eyes I felt a weight pressing against my side again. This time though it was different, this time there was a warm pressure against my back, a warm pressure that was shifting and moving as I lay there pretending to still be asleep. A warm pressure that left me, footsteps replacing breathing as Emily padded softly towards the door.

"Emily, I've brought you two breakfast," I heard Jenna whisper as the door was opened. "How is she?"

"Sleeping," Emily replied quietly. "She didn't sleep well last night, obviously; and I think this morning took a lot out of her. I put her to bed just after you left."

"I think you need to be careful Emily," Jenna said cryptically as I eavesdropped on what was obviously a private conversation.

"I know what I'm doing mum, I just need her to be sane and well. Will you call Joanna later?"

"I'll call her as soon as her office opens on Monday morning, I'll explain what happened and see what she thinks. I'll let you know as soon as I've done it ok?"

"Great, thanks mum. I owe her more than my life you know? because of what happened at the office."

"I know Emily, I understand," came the whispered reply. "Just, please, remember what we talked about ok?"

"I will mum; thanks for bringing up breakfast."

"You're very welcome dear. I'll speak to you later."

I closed my eyes once more as the door closed, and listened to the slight chink of crockery on a tray as Emily walked back across the room. I felt the tray rest on the foot of the bed before I felt her hand touch my shoulder telling me it was time to stop pretending.

"Nomi, breakfast," Emily called out softly as she shook my shoulder gently. "Nomi…"

I slowly opened my eyes and yawned, pretending I had just been woken and stretching carefully. "How long was I out for?" I asked as I blinked and rubbed the sleep from my eyes.

"A couple of hours, more or less. You had a bit of a bad dream about an hour ago, but it soon went; don't you remember?"

"No," I told her firmly, her story perhaps explaining why she had wound up in bed with me again.

"Good," she said confidently, "I'm glad. Breakfast?"

"Please," I said, sitting up and swinging my feet out of the bed. "What have we got?"

"A bit of everything really, Andrew's brought up toast and marmalade, some sausage and bacon; some scrambled eggs. Tea and coffee, the coffee is for me obviously."

I grunted in response, "So what will it be Miss Campbell, would you like breakfast in bed or on the terrace?"

"Terrace?" I asked wondering what she meant. Emily smiled and climbed off the bed, pulling open a set of curtains I'd barely acknowledged to reveal a set of French doors and a small balcony with a table and chairs.

"Katie thought it was grown up," she told me as she pulled open the doors. "Used to make us have afternoon tea out here. That's why she had this room and I have mine. She loved the idea of the balcony overlooking the gardens."

I picked up the large, and somewhat heavy tray, and crossed the room to where she was stood and smiled as she opened the door with a bow.

"Your table awaits, oh brave defender," she said dramatically.

"Thank you fair maiden," I replied inclining my head and stepping out onto the balcony. I suppressed a slight shiver as the cold air hit my body, it's not as if I'm not used to the cold after all. I placed the tray down on the table and pulled back a chair; gesturing that she should sit down.

"Why thank you madam," she said grinning like a moron. "You're such a gentleman."

"We bold defenders always are," I said sitting myself down. "But I think that's the first time I've been called a gentleman."

"Well, you're not exactly ladylike are you Naomi?" Emily asked her lips twitching as she teased me.

"I can be," I told her racking my brains to think of a time when I had been. "Probably," I conceded eventually admitting the truth. Emily looked at me before laughing a rich warm laugh and grabbing food from the tray.

"Enough bullshit Naomi, eat! 'I can be' my arse." She continued to chuckle as she buttered a slice of toast, shutting up only when she put it into her mouth. Her eyes told me the tale of her amusement though, they positively twinkled as she chewed.

We ate in a near comfortable silence, certainly nowhere near as awkward as it had been when we ate Chinese take-out in her office. I'm still staggered by her capacity to eat, for a skinny girl she sure can shovel it away.

I sat back in the chair with my tea, my night-time fast now broken with a couple of pieces of toast and some cereal. I looked out over the Fitch's estate, across the widely planted gardens and down towards the copse of trees that hid a small dark lake.

"What you thinking?" Emily asked, finally pushing away her plate and picking up her cup of coffee.

"Just how nice it is here, you have a lovely home Emily." I said, turning back to face her.

"It's not my home Naomi, it's just a place to come and stay. If it wasn't for Mum I'm not sure I'd ever come back."

I didn't reply, I just raised an eyebrow in query.

"This is Dad's dream, all of this; it's what he wanted. I think I mentioned that. "I nodded and let her continue, sipping at my rapidly cooling drink. "It's all a bit much for me I think, I used to lose myself here you know?"

I shrugged, I had no idea what she meant, we were from too different worlds. The houses I grew up in you could hear the neighbours shagging or shouting through the paper thin walls. You never got a chance to feel alone, you were surrounded by the endless noise of people. That's why I loved swimming, it gave me the chance to lose myself. I sought it out, Emily seems to be the opposite.

"Katie loves it here of course," she added scornfully, dragging me from my thoughts. "Proper little 'lady of the manor' she was, hence this room, hence the terrace."

She stared down into her coffee and muttered something to herself, I had to listen hard to make out what she was saying.

"Hence fucking Katie gets everything and fucking Emily gets nothing."

I focused my eyes back out onto the landscape and pretended not to have heard.

"Anyway, I prefer London," she continued, "I have my own place where I can be myself, I have my own friends, the whole nine yards."

"Somewhere you can be you?" I asked, deciding to turn the tables on her a little.

"You could say that," she replied, looking out over the gardens. "It is pretty here though, it's a nice place to come back to when the world gets too mad."

"Yeah, I bet," I told her; really wishing I could have had somewhere like this in my life, a sanctuary that you could return to and find yourself some peace.

We sat together and finished breakfast in silence before Emily stretched out her neck and shoulders and stood up.

"Right, well I guess I need to get a shower and get dressed. I said I'd spend the day with James today so I suppose I should find the little shit and see what he wants to do. Can you be ready in half an hour Naomi, just in case I need you?"

"I'm at your perpetual beck and call Miss Fitch, " I replied seriously and was rewarded with a cuff on the shoulder.

"You stop that now, we're not in public you know. Even my mum thinks it's strange you call me Miss Fitch all the time."

"It's how I work Emily," I said.

"I know."

o+o+o

The day went remarkably smoothly, I got showered and dressed, opting not to wear my formal wear as it was only Sunday; and waited in my room for Emily to appear. After slightly longer than the half hour she mentioned there was a knock at the dividing door and she appeared wearing a loose summer dress and sandals. It was a pale yellow colour and it looked really good on her, even though it clashed horribly with her hair.

"Don't say anything ok!" she said as I looked at her. "I know it doesn't work, but it was this or my gym gear; the rest of my stuff is in London and the other clothes I have here look even worse. I wasn't planning on spending Sunday and Monday here was I? We should have been home last night."

"You look fine, " I shrugged, "and what about all that stuff you bought yesterday? Didn't you have something in that?"

"No, I mostly bought tops and shoes for work. Nothing I could comfortably wear around the house today anyway."

I breathed a slight sigh of relief at that revelation. If Emily was going to spend the best part of the day with her family in the house, I didn't have to follow her everywhere. I could spend some time in the control room checking things and talking to the security team. Perhaps agree some new procedures and the like, it would also give me some space away from family Fitch; family Fitch that were getting far too close to me.

"You'll let me know if you're going to leave the house won't you?"

She looked at me in surprise. "Even if you're going out into the grounds," I continued firmly.

"I, er...of course," she said regaining her composure. "Sorry, I just thought you'd be tagging along."

"Not if I don't have to Emily, not unless you plan to go outside or off premises in any way that is. You'll be perfectly safe in the house and I can talk to the team about protecting your mother when she's here."

She didn't look exactly happy, but nodded. "Will I see you for lunch at least, I'm sure Mum will be annoyed if you don't join us."

"If you would like that, then yes; thank you. I need to talk to Jenna anyway today, find out her requirements. Where am I likely to find her?"

"Probably having breakfast in the gardens; after that, probably either shooting things or hitting golf balls I guess. Either that or she'll be in one of the front rooms reading or watching TV."

Her daughter knew Jenna too well, after we split up I went in search of Jenna, doing it the sneaky way and scanning from the control centre. I saw her on the back terrace sitting with a pot of tea in front of her and decided to grab the bull by the horns.

"Mrs Fitch," I started as I walked up to her, she pulled down the sunglasses she was wearing and gestured for me to sit.

"I need to talk business with you I'm afraid, I need to make arrangements for your protection in light of recent events."

"Whatever needs doing Naomi, please just arrange it. As long as it doesn't interfere with my life, or my sex life, I'll be happy."

I sat and stared at her, amazed by her frankness.

"Oh really Naomi, you can't tell me that James' excellent team hasn't told you that, I'm sure you know all about Rob and me and our little arrangement."

"Well..." I started.

"It's supposed to be our big secret, but you can't always keep your privacy can you?" She said looking knowingly at me. I thought back to the TV footage of the chase, and me and Amy and nodded. " well the children don't know of course; though I hope they at least suspect or they're not as intelligent as I've brought them up to be. Robert and I have two lives, the public one of a happy couple and the private one of a couple of singletons...it suits us both very nicely actually."

"The file may have mentioned something," I said vaguely. "I didn't think it was important."

Jenna looked at me, cutting through me with her eyes; then, with a twitch of her lips she burst out laughing leaving me sitting there in surprise.

"Oh Naomi you really are terrible at the whole 'guarded secret' business. Even if Emily hadn't already told me you'd overheard her and Robert arguing I could tell you knew."

I sat on that hard metal seat, feeling more and more embarrassed, things were going terribly wrong for me here and I didn't have a clue how to fix them. These Fitch women seemed to know me inside and out and I don't mind saying it's pretty fucking scary.

"So yes, do whatever you need to do Naomi, I'm quite easy as long as your man, or woman, is discrete and trustworthy. Now would you like a cup of coffee, I assume it's late enough for you now?"

I nodded and she poured me a cup from the large silver pot in front of her, the same one she'd poured from last night, when we had our little talk; before everything had turned itself upside down. We sat in a kind of awkward silence, sipping at our drinks until we were both startled by the slamming of a door behind us and the sound of footsteps.

"I don't fucking believe him, he never fucking changes, repulsive little pervert."

I spun my head around at the sound of an annoyed Emily Fitch, only to watch her storm across the gardens in the general direction of the summerhouse.

"Miss Fitch!" I called after her; she ignored me and carried on walking. I heard Jenna chuckle to herself.

"There's no point shouting after her Naomi dear, James has probably crossed the line again and annoyed her. He's the one she normally calls a pervert. Has done most of her life in fact. She'll calm down in a bit and come back and they'll be fine."

"I don't care that she's upset Jenna," I told her carefully, trying to hide the fact that in actuality I was. "I asked her not to leave the house without me, we have no security at her summerhouse, she's vulnerable down there."

"Oh come now Naomi, I'm sure she'll be perfectly safe, it's not as if she's left the grounds."

"It's my responsibility Jenna, I know she's ok in and around the house because we have people and cameras, but out there she's on her own and I won't have that; not on my watch."

I put my coffee cup down and got up from the table; I was surprised to see Jenna get up and follow me as I walked towards the wooden building who's door had just about been slammed off its hinges.

"I thought I could be your backup," she said smiling as she walked alongside me across the immaculate lawn, "or you could be mine. If he's really upset her, we might need more than the two of us; can you call up reinforcements if you need to?"

I smiled and nodded, pulling back my hair to reveal the earpiece I'd slipped in earlier.

Jenna sighed and looked at me disappointedly, "Emily's right, you just don't switch off do you Naomi?"

"Not today Jenna, not until I know everyone's safe."

"Fine, well don't say I didn't warn you. I don't think you've experienced the full on angry Emily Fitch, I'm afraid she takes after her father in that regard."

_'I'm sure I have,'_ I thought to myself as she knocked on the summerhouse door._ 'I'm pretty sure I've been on the receiving end a couple of times actually; fuck it, here goes nothing.'_

I braced myself for the shouting as we waited for a reply to the knock.

"FUCK _OFF_!"

Emily Fitch is in fine form by the sounds of things, it's a shame because she was sweetness and light this morning. I can't help but wonder what James Fitch had done to her, and whether I was going to have to take him to task for it.

"Emily it's your mother, open the door."

"Go _away_ mum, I don't want to talk to anyone right now."

"Emily it's just me and Naomi, now open the door."

There was a long pause from inside the summerhouse before..."It's not locked."

A broad grin broke over the face of my comrade in arms and she gestured for me to go first.

"You're paid to do the dangerous work Naomi; after you." she said her lips twitching in amusement. I looked at the door with more trepidation than the last time I'd approached it.

"Do you think I need to throw in a flashbang first?" I joked, trying to keep the mood light. "Just in case it's a trap!"

"No dear I think we'll be fine, but you're still going in first just in case!"

Carefully I opened the door and stepped inside the summerhouse, it was totally different in the light of day. I could see that it was quite a large building, light and airy as well, or it would be if the curtains were opened. Emily was sat in her chair in the corner, furiously glaring at us with her arms folded and a precious little angry-pout on her face.

'_Cute,' _ I thought as I looked at her, then _'fucks sake Naomi fucking quit that!'_

I dragged my mind back to the issue at hand and frowned at her, ignoring the pout.

"Miss Fitch I asked you not to leave the house without someone being with you."

"Fucks sake Naomi, it's not as if I went shopping, I'm only at the bottom of the garden."

I inclined my head at her tone, snappy and bitchy…welcome back the Emily Fitch of a couple of days ago.

"That's as maybe Miss Fitch, but I did ask."

"I wanted some privacy, I don't need people following me around all the time."

"Then I would have stood outside."

She frowned at me and I watched as Jenna moved into the back of the building opening the curtains and allowing the daylight to penetrate the dark; the dust particles that were kicked up by our presence shining in the sunbeams.

"Emily," I said softly so Jenna wouldn't hear me. "I've only got your best interests at heart. I thought you were going to stop fighting me on this; I only want to keep you safe you know?"

Her shoulders slumped and she nodded, "Sorry Nomi," she said softly, her eye's following her mother around the summerhouse. "James was being a cunt and he pissed me off. I _know_ you're only trying to keep me safe I _appreciate_ that I really do, I just…"

She tailed off, her hands clenching in her lap, whatever James Fitch had said it had really gotten to her. I decided to give her some dignity back.

"Right, well if you need some time I'll wait outside, shout if you need anything."

"Don't go," he said hurriedly, her eyes flashing up to meet mine. "You're both here now," She continued more casually than before. "Seems stupid to go and stand outside. Why don't you and mum find a chair?"

o+o+o

Before I knew it we were all sat around in one of the cleaner corners of the summerhouse, Jenna tutting at the mess.

"Really Emily, we need to have this place put on the cleaning rota, I will speak to Andrew about it today. It's filthy down here."

"It's rustic mum, I don't mind a bit of dust; it gives the place character."

Jenna ran her finger along a surface next to her and lifted it up, reminding me of room inspections in the army. Her finger was black with dust, in the old days I would have been running laps if my rooms had been as dirty as this.

"Ok," Emily admitted, "perhaps it needs a bit of a spring clean, I've not been down here for a while."

"You haven't painted for years dear." Jenna remarked.

"It hasn't been that long mum, don't make out it's worse than it is."

"Well it has been at least six months since you painted anything Emily." Jenna replied unfazed. "I don't think you've even been down here in that time either, six months since you've used this place to paint or dance. That's not like you dear."

"No," she said sadly, "I just haven't been in the mood."

"Is this all your work?" I asked gesturing around the room. With the light streaming in I could see all the things that had eluded me in the darkness of Friday night. The walls were covered in canvases some on display, some stacked up, some in piles as yet untouched. The work was varied, no particular theme, by one window was a seascape, waves crashing against rocks with a turbulent sky overhead, nestled next to a set of boxes was a landscape; green hills rolling under a cloudless sky.

There were portraits and abstracts, a myriad of attempts at different art forms all placed around the room. In one corner was a small laid wooden floor with two walls filled with floor to ceiling mirrors and handrails. I remembered Emily telling me that she wanted to paint, to dance, to express herself artistically; I suddenly realised the fallacy of my earlier thoughts, this Summerhouse was quite obviously her haven, her sanctuary, her equivalent of my swimming pool.

It's such a shame she hasn't had the muse to be in here for a while.

"They're all mine, except for that one over there," she said sullenly, pointing at a large canvas, "that one I bought of a local artist, just haven't got round to taking it back to the flat yet."

"You're very talented," I told her, eyes still roaming around the room. "Not that I know a lot about art, but they all look pretty good to me. I really like that one," I said pointing at a small painting of a little yellow house with a tidy garden and a neat fence. "It reminds me of a place we lived once, except it wasn't painted yellow."

"What colour was it then?" she asked, her voice lifting a little from the morose tones that had pervaded it since we had opened the door.

"Well it was actually a God awful duck egg blue colour. Mum had decided that it was her favourite colour and had some of the lodgers paint it for her. Lovely house, looked bloody awful after that though."

"You should take that one then, you could put it up in your flat, I noticed it's a little sterile."

"I couldn't do that Miss Fitch." I told her firmly.

"Of course you can," she said getting up and lifting the picture carefully from the wall. "In fact, I insist you take it, it's nice to have someone appreciate my work; not like _some_ people I could mention."

Her voice hardened in disgust at the end of her sentence; I assumed that someone in the family, probably Katie or Rob, had been disparaging about her works in the past. It's a real shame because she genuinely does have talent, at least she has to my untrained eye

"Sorry I can't Miss Fitch, you don't understand; the place we went to last week, that's not _my_ place, that's a _company_ apartment. Cook's letting me stay for a month or so until I find my own place."

"Where are you thinking of living Naomi?" Jenna asked from her chair where she'd been sitting in silence watching us both.

"I have no idea Jenna, I need to talk to JJ about it really. Obviously I need to be close to the office and close to Miss Fitch here, but I don't really want to live in London. The costs are high and I'd love to live somewhere with a bit of greenery."

"It's expensive living in London, but you can always do like I do and live near to one of the parks, that gives you the convenience of town, but still gives you the greenery. I've got Regents Park and Hyde Park within walking distance, and they're like a different world when you get into them. Hampstead Heath is only a short journey away as well, as is Richmond Park and it's beautiful there. I go to see the deer, it's fabulous on an Autumn morning when there's a slight mist."

"I seriously doubt my even my vastly increased salary would stretch to the house prices around where you live Miss Fitch," I replied with a smile on my face.

It was true, I was now earning more money than I'd ever earned before and still I doubted I'd be able to live that close to the centre of London. Prices there were fucking stupid.

"You should move in with Emily," Jenna said suddenly. "She's got space in her flat, that way you'd be on hand for your protection duties and have somewhere to stay and Emily gets someone to help with the bills."

We both stared at her as if she'd grown a second head.

"Well it was just a thought," she said sounding a bit crestfallen at our looks. "I thought it would be a good idea."

"I think I need to find my own place Jenna, and I'm sure Miss Fitch here doesn't want me interfering in her life any more than I have to. I'm sure after a week with me she's sick of the sight of me already."

"I wouldn't go that far Naomi, though I admit we didn't have the greatest of starts to a working relationship, and you are kind of annoying."

"You wouldn't be the first one to say that Miss Fitch, most of my old unit used to tell me the same thing."

"Did you nag them as much as you nag me?" She asked with the first grin on her face I'd seen since this morning..

"I was far worse Miss Fitch, I was _paid_ to give them orders and they _had_ to carry them out. You, unfortunately for me, have the ability to ignore them and get me into trouble with my employers."

I nodded across at Jenna who frowned at me melodramatically. "Absolutely Naomi, if Emily gets hurt because of her own stupidity I promise I'll kill you."

I know she was joking, but there was a look she shared with her daughter that told me that she was being serious as well, she was warning Emily not to do anything stupid herself. The look they shared spoke volumes and I could see the understanding born of a close relationship.

"Anyway, enough of this doom and gloom," Jenna said standing up. "I came down here to see if you were ok Emily and it's obvious that you're feeling better so my work here is done, would you ladies like me to get Andrew to send some lunch down, or are you coming back to the house?"

"Lunch sounds good mum, but why don't you join us?"

Jenna tilted her head at her daughter before sitting down again. "I think I'd like that dear," she said with a warm smile. "Naomi, could you use that radio of yours to contact the house and see if someone would ask Andrew to bring lunch down for the three of us?"

I nodded and pressed the PTT button, finally getting through to Simon who was covering the day shift. I passed on Jenna's request, feeling a little guilty at using my team as errand boys, and settled back into my seat. Mother and daughter were engaged in a conversation about Emily's paintings and I decided to tune it out for a bit, hunting for a moment of peace in my mind. I had some hard decisions to make and I needed to clarify and prioritise them.

Firstly, I needed somewhere to live. That had to be a priority, even with seven weeks before Cook expected me to be out of the flat I needed to talk to JJ and then find myself somewhere to live and be ready to move out. The current schedule with Emily demanded that I pull my finger out or I would run out of time pretty soon. Though ideally the move would be delayed would be after my first pay packet went into my account, just in case.

Secondly, I needed to sort out my wardrobe. I had basics, but I needed to get more clothes, especially if we were going to be travelling a lot over the next few weeks. My diary showed trips to New York, Iraq, and India over the next six months; along with a few shorter visits to some of the larger Eastern European capitals. Business at Fitch Industries must be good.

Thirdly, I needed to sort out these fucking nightmares. I needed to get help, needed someone to talk things through with. I can't be ruled by the fear that they're going to come back, can't run the risk of looking vulnerable in front of these two again.

Finally, I needed to visit mum. If I was in the UK on the anniversary of her death I did everything to visit her grave, I visited it regularly up to the ambush loving to do nothing more than spend time tidying it up and laying fresh flowers. Using that time away from the stresses of the Army to reconnect myself with her memory. I tried to visit as often as I could, terrified that as I got older I'd one day forget her, that she'd slip from my mind like water through a sieve and I'd be left with nothing but fleeting memories of who she was and how she had been.

I vowed to myself that I would make the time, perhaps even head up to Cheltenham tomorrow, it's not that far from here and if the Fitch's would let me borrow their Range Rover I could go and come back before Emily needed to head back to London. I thought about how to broach the subject, how I could to get Emily to stay in the house while I was gone.

I was lost in these thoughts when I felt a shake to my shoulder and looked up to see Jenna smiling over me.

"Ah, back with us then Naomi, that's good. Lunch is on its way, I can see Andrew bringing it now."

"Oh, right, thanks." I said lamely, embarrassed again that I'd let myself slip on the job. I needed to pull myself together, I was getting far too fucking casual around these two, I wasn't doing my job properly.

'_Fourthly,' _I thought firmly, _'I need to sort this shit out, we need boundaries, _I_ need boundaries; and I need them before I fuck this up and get us both killed.'_

o+o+o

The rest of the day passed without any more drama's. James and Emily made up, wrapping each other up in another one of those huge hugs that family Fitch seem to thrive on. She hadn't revealed to me what the problem between them was, but I'd cornered James during the afternoon and warned him about upsetting his sister.

"I didn't mean anything," He said looking scared as I spoke to him, "she went off the deep end over an innocent little comment."

I thought about the things Emily had told me about her perverted little brother and decided not to enquire any further, an innocent comment from him was probably anything but.

"Look James I don't care, it's my job to protect you and your sister, and when you upset her she did a runner. Now this time she legged it to the Summerhouse, but if she'd decided to get in a car and drive away she could be dead right now. We can't take stupid risks James, Miss Fitch has been targeted once, and I believe she is still a target. Her and your Father are the symbols of the deal that was made recently and 'Khuddam ul-Islam' are still pissed off about them ignoring their threats."

I knew this for a fact, one of the points that JJ had made during our meeting yesterday was a report that more threats had been received at Fitch Industries. JJ had spoken to Cook and they had decided not to tell the family yet, not until we'd managed to verify if they were genuine or not. Still it was more than enough reason to be concerned, even if it was little more than a copycat hoax.

James looked at me and nodded, at least looking abashed. "I don't need you to do anything but be a little considerate James, that's all. You as a family need to stick together right now, and until this threat goes away you all need to help me and my team out ok?"

"I get it Naomi, you don't have to beat me up."

"Au contraire, I'm told that's exactly what I need to do to you James Fitch." I winked at him getting a cheeky grin in return. "Right tomorrow morning there's a guy called Simon arriving, he's going to be looking after you. Don't piss him off and don't try to skip out on him or you'll answer to me ok? He'll be discrete but he's totally responsible for your safety, so don't be like your sister and do as he asks. If you have any problems call the office and as to speak to JJ Jones or at a last resort me."

"What, so I don't get your number hun?" he asked in what I assume was his best ingratiating voice, sidling closer to me, his intentions obvious.

"You'd need tits to get my number _hun_," I told him firmly. "Wrong gender James, I'm sorry."

"Ah, I get it," he said, the penny dropping into that impossibly dense skull. "That explains a lot."

"And what does that that mean Mr Fitch?" I asked slightly annoyed at that comment.

"Oh, nothing really, nothing bad anyway. Forget I said anything."

I scowled at him, but he grinned and winked. "See you at dinner Naomi.

_'Oh fuck, dinner again!'_

.

.

.

**A/N** – and there we leave it for another week, sorry it's delayed. Busy week work wise and got dragged out for a lot of alcohol yesterday! Still hey, it's here now. See you next time.


	29. Memory Tapes

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent and a distinct lack of awesomeness!

Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which still makes me very upset but not as much as before).

**Authors Note **– Did you all feel the earth spin and topple from its axis...Stunty finished Anything to Declare...if you haven't read it...go away and do so now!

Why are you still here?

**Chapter 29 – Memory Tapes**

"_Hi Mum, look…I'm really sorry I've not been to see you for a while, things have been a bit messed up; but I'm ok now, but then I think you know that don't you?"_

o+o+o

Monday morning had started with a light mist and a steady drizzle. Fitting really. I'd made arrangements after dinner to borrow the Range Rover and nip off for some personal time, promising to be back for early afternoon so I could drive Emily back to London. In fairness she'd been brilliant, insisting that she had no specific plans for the day and that she was happy to spend the morning with James and Jenna. I hadn't told her what I was planning to do, with everything else that had gone on I didn't feel that was appropriate. I'd dumped enough of my shit on her and her family and they'd just soaked it up like they were sponges.

This time, however, I was determined to do things on my own.

Extracting a final promise over breakfast for Emily to stay within the boundaries of the house's security I stepped outside into the rain and nearly walked slap bang into the burly figure of Simon.

"Good morning Miss Campbell," he said with his Welsh accent booming in my ears. "It's nice to see you again."

"Morning Simon, and didn't I tell you to call me Naomi?" He grinned and nodded. "Right then, then stop calling me Miss sodding Campbell."

I looked down at my phone, there really wasn't any rush; Cheltenham was only just over an hour away, but I was anxious to get out and back in the minimum of time. Still I did have a job to do and I had responsibilities to maintain and I would have to make time.

"Look Simon, I was just off out for a bit; but I'll take you in and introduce you to the family."

_'Fuck it, I can always risk getting stopped, the M5 is usually a good place to speed.'_

o+o+o

James seemed ecstatic at our choice of a CPO, immediately getting on with the usually serious Welshman who continually broke into a smile at his antics.

"Watch this one like a hawk Simon," I told him seriously; "he's a liability and he's as likely to get into trouble with his cheeky mouth as he is in any other way."

"Naomi, I'm hurt. I'm sweet and lovable really; Simon mate, I won't be any trouble at all."

"Don't believe him," Emily said from a chair in the corner; "Naomi's right he's a little shit."

They fell into their bickering almost immediately and I looked once more at my phone. Just coming up to ten o'clock and I really needed to get going. With an indulgent smile I made my excuses and snuck out.

I was pulling on my coat in the hallway when I heard footsteps behind me and turned to see Emily walking along the tiled floor behind me.

"Are you ok Naomi?" she asked, "you've been twitchy all morning."

"I'm fine," I replied thinking that 'twitchy' was the last thing I had been especially given what I was about to do.

"Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No," I said, perhaps a little too firmly judging by her expression. "Just stay in the building and out of trouble Emily, that's all you need to do to keep things off my mind."

I tried to soften my voice, tried to make sure it wasn't as hard as it had been. I even managed a fake smile to try and make her feel better. Emily just looked at me appraisingly.

"I can do that," she said quietly, "if it'll stop you worrying about me."

"Knowing that you're not running off around the countryside will be a great weight off my mind." I told her, avoiding the fact that I do actually worry about her safety. I'm allowed to be concerned for her safety, concern is good, concern is professional. Worry is something else entirely and yesterday when I saw her running for the summerhouse, I was worried; worried about a lot of things.

"I'd better be off," I told her looking at the clock on my phone again, "or I won't get back in time."

"I told you Naomi there's no rush to get home, take all the time you need. It's not as if you've had a day off this week is it?"

"I'll be back about two Miss Fitch," I replied noticing Jenna walking out into the hallway with James. "I'll be ready to drive you back to London then."

o+o+o

I was halfway up the M5 to Chelmsford when I started to get suspicious of a large silver BMW five series behind me. It wasn't as if it did anything special to attract my attention, quite the opposite in fact. In fact it was that apparent normalcy that made me paranoid. It matched my speed for a bit, then it sped up and caught me before easing off and dropping further behind; never quite dropping out of eyesight.

It made me paranoid because those big motorway cruisers would normally blast down the outside lane of a motorway scattering everyone in their path as the sales rep or company executive hammered their way to their next meeting.

It was careless of whomever was driving, very careless. Driving with consideration, indicating when necessary, none of these things are associated with the people that drove these cars and it was that simple fact that attracted my attention.

I decided that a bit of clever driving was in order and I looked at the sat-nav screen on the Rover's dash to make my plan. Gently I backed off the accelerator and brought the BMW towards me, closer and closer it came as we approached one of the exit ramps. With a sudden braking I forced the beemer to overtake me and swung the wheel to the left and accelerated up the ramp and onto the side roads, driving as quickly as I could to lose the other car. I'd chanced a glance as I sped up the slip road and smiled as I spotted the BMW still on the motorway, heading for the hard shoulder presumably to back up and follow me again.

Ten minutes later I knew I was free and clear, I'd took a winding route to the next motorway junction and continued on my journey. There was no sign of the suspicious BMW, but I made a note to call the office and get it checked out. It was strange that someone would follow me, but then I was in one of the Fitch family's vehicles so perhaps that was what had sparked it. I had their registration plate, I was sure that the guys in ops would be able to sort it out again.

o+o+o

The rest of my journey was uneventful, and I pulled into the long road of the cemetery at just after half eleven; the little deviation adding some time to my journey. It didn't take me any time at all to find my way to the small plot where my mother was buried, navigating my way through the headstones to the grave she had wanted, next to a broad oak tree.

To my relief the grave itself was still fairly neat and tidy; suffering only marginally from my enforced neglect. I knelt down next to it and began to clear away the leaves that had fallen whilst I was in Afghanistan and had settled next to and on the granite stone, marring it's surface.

"Hi Mum, look…I'm really sorry I've not been to see you for a while, things have been a bit messed up; but I'm ok now, but then I think you know that don't you?"

I didn't believe in heaven, didn't believe in a lot if the truth was to be told, but I did believe that my mum was somewhere, even if it was only in the form of pure energy, and I believed that she would wait for me like she had promised she would on her deathbed, so that we could continue our journey together.

I don't know why I spoke to her whenever I came here, it just seemed right to do so, and talk to her I did, squatting next to her grave and spilling my guts. Telling her what had happened in Afghanistan, what had happened afterwards and why I'd totally missed coming to see her on the anniversary of her death. I poured my heart out as I tidied the grave; and finally, when I'd emptied myself of everything inside, everything was in order.

"My whole life's a bit messed up at the moment Mum," I told her as I stood, "but I'm getting myself sorted. I'll pay off my bills pretty quickly with what Cook pays me, I like the job and I really like the people I'm working with. I'll turn myself around don't worry about that...I might not be around for a while mum, I've got a pretty busy schedule and I don't know when I'll be close again, but I promise I'll be back as soon as I can. Make sure you're looked after, ok?"

I was rewarded by nothing but silence, nothing but the gentle breeze blowing through the trees. I looked up at the darkening sky, the bad weather seeming to have followed me up from Bath, looming ominously in the distance.

"I'd better be going Mum, "I said placing my hand on the picture I'd had placed into the stone. "I need to get back to Bath, pick up my package and head back to London. I've been away far too long. I'll see you soon, bye Mum."

It was with tangible regret that I turned to walk back to the car. I hadn't realised how distant I'd felt and how good it was to have my memories refreshed; replenished by that sense of proximity that visiting her grave always gave me. I was feeling much happier with myself as I picked my way back to the road, but it was with a sense of shock that I saw a silver car parked behind my own.

I dropped my body slightly and ducked behind a gravestone, looking around me carefully to check for danger. Seeing no one nearby I picked my way carefully to the car and approached it from the back quarter, trying to stay out of the mirrors, trying to get close without being seen. Stealthily I made my way towards the doors trying to see who was inside when I heard a familiar voice call out.

"Simon, she's over there by the car."

I stood up and looked at the Range Rover, stepping out of the passenger side door was Emily fucking Fitch; and appearing from around the front of the car was Simon, the employee that I had, not hours before, entrusted the safety of James Fitch to.

"What the hell are you two doing here?" I said as calmly as I could, holding the boiling anger I was feeling in check. "Simon you're supposed to be back in Bath taking James back to university. What were you thinking?"

Simon went to speak but was cut across immediately by Miss Fitch.

"Simon is here making sure I'm safe Naomi and I'm here because I needed to know that you're safe. Don't blame him for following my orders"

'

'_I'm safe….I'M SAFE?'_ I thought; '_honestly is this woman that fucking thick?'_

"Miss Fitch my safety is absolutely nothing compared to yours, what were you thinking putting yourself in danger like this?"

Her eyes flashed dangerously and her hand tightened on the door handle.

"I was thinking," she said her voice low and controlled, "that when someone I think is getting to be close to being a friend has been very upset and then decides to take off on her own and won't talk about it, then a _friend_ would go after her and make sure she's ok."

Her words cut through my anger, but not through my worry.

"A _friend_ would have done as she promised Miss Fitch and stayed out of the way and safe so her _friend_ could sort out her personal business; a _friend_ wouldn't have resorted to spying on someone. I guess it's just as well I'm simply an employee, and such proprieties as respect and privacy don't matter."

I watched her face blanch as the shot hit home and with a grim satisfaction I turned on Simon.

"As for you," I started as calmly as I could; incensed that not only would he follow me, but that he'd put both Emily and James at risk.

"I ordered Simon to follow you Naomi," Emily said quickly, presumably expecting the worst. I stared at him as he calmly met my gaze.

That's not strictly true Miss Campbell," he said, his deep bass voice resonating as it carried across to me. "Miss Fitch was about to leave to follow you when I tried to stop her. I made the decision that I should travel with her rather than allow her to drive alone. It was my decision alone to accompany her, and I only did so when I had ensured that Mr Fitch was safe at the house and had promised not to leave until I return to take him back to University."

I stared across at him, knowing that he'd done the right thing. Emily may have claimed to have ordered him to come, but he'd told me the truth and I respected him for doing it, and for the tactical decision he'd made. It was a no-win situation and he'd done his best.

"Fine, can you drive that car?" I asked him, receiving a nod in reply.

"It's my car Miss Campbell, I drove Miss Fitch here."

"Good, get back in it and head back to Bath, pick up Mr Fitch and take him back to University. If you need anything call JJ or me, I'll speak to you soon Simon."

He nodded and walked over to the car, climbing in and driving it away. I walked over to the passenger side rear door and gestured for Emily to get in the back.

"Naomi…."

"Not now Miss Fitch, now is not the time. Please get back into the car so we can go back to Bath, pick up our things and I'll take you back to London."

She looked at me sadly before climbing up into the rear seats, struggling a little with her plaster cast as she attempted to buckle herself in. When she sat back and looked across at me I carefully closed the door, slammed the passenger door shut and walked around the rear of the car to the front and climbed in.

We drove in silence out of Cheltenham, along roads I recognised all too well. I saw parks that I'd played in and paths I had run down, the place was filled with happy memories, and far too many sad ones as well.

On the way here I'd decided to visit my storage container. I needed to get my driver's licence and passport out of there anyway; and I'd been thinking, ever since Emily mentioned it, that some personal items were necessary to brighten up wherever I was going to be living. Emily must have noticed that we weren't heading back because I heard her clear her throat from the back seat.

"Naomi, I think you may have taken a wrong turn, this isn't the way to the motorway."

"I have a stop to make first Miss Fitch," I said shortly. "If that's ok with you?"

"It's fine, fucks sake Naomi will you stop it, I'm sorry ok? I was fucking worried about you and I wanted to make sure you were all right. That's all it was I swear, I'm sorry I followed you but I wasn't spying on you."

I ignored her, focussing on the road ahead, breathing carefully to calm my racing heart.

"Naomi?"

"Yes Miss Fitch?"

"I said I was sorry."

"Yes, Miss Fitch."

I looked into the rear view mirror as a car pulled out behind us, eyes flicking to the door mirror as it made to overtake us. When I looked out of the rear view mirror again I found a pair of brown eyes looking back at me, quickly I focussed on the road ahead once more.

"I meant it you know," she told me as I continued to concentrate on my driving, "I was worried about you."

"You put yourself at risk Miss Fitch, and that's unacceptable. If this is what you do when we become 'close to friends' then I'm sorry I allowed myself to slip. I'm not prepared to allow you to get hurt for any reason, that's not in my job description."

"I didn't put myself at risk for fucks sake, Simon was with me…"

"Only because he decided not to let you leave on your own though." I returned interrupting her pressing my point home. "You were planning to follow me without him."

Her head disappeared from my mirror and I heard her slump back into her seat. "You're right," she said quietly, "I was going to follow you with or without him. I care about you Naomi, you're my friend."

I drove to the storage pace without replying, I was angry, annoyed, frustrated, pissed off, I was every fucking emotion under the sun with Emily Fitch and that annoyed me even more. Mostly though I was proud, she called me her friend and that made me happy in amongst the rest of the emotions. Being told that she worries about me, and that she considers me a friend was special; but it reinforced my belief that I needed to pull back. The weekend was a mistake, an aberration; and it couldn't be allowed to continue. I can't be her friend, I get my friends killed. I like her too much to have that happen.

She followed me in silence as I walked into the office to get my key from the guy that ran the place. All it took was a quick check on my paperwork and a swipe of my credit card to pay off the rest of my agreement and I was sorted. Key in hand I approached my lock up and opened the door.

I could feel Emily's eyes on me as I walked into the unit and switched on the lone bulb that served as illumination. It wasn't much, little more than a large metal box; but it contained everything I had left of my old life, the bits that I'd kept anyway. I'd took out the long term storage deal just before I joined the army, putting everything that I hadn't sold or scrapped in here and hoping that one day I'd have somewhere to put it all. It was mostly boxes, some old and some new. Most was from my time with mum, but a few were from my time in the Military Police and from my time with Amy. I didn't enjoy coming here, there were too many memories on display, I usually only came to drop stuff off. My last visit had been to put away the few items that I now wanted back in my life, some photo's and some keepsakes.

"Can I come in?" I heard a tentative voice behind me say.

"Yeah," I replied, "just be careful ok? Nearly everything in here is precious to me and I don't want anything damaging accidentally."

_'That includes you, so don't hurt yourself on any of this junk.'_

"I'll be careful," she said stepping into the unit and looking around. I pretty much ignored her as I rummaged in the boxes bringing out the items I wanted and placing them onto a sad, battered looking yellow four seater table.

"Is this you and your mum?" Emily asked out of the blue, and I snapped around to see her looking at three pictures in a photo frame. I grabbed it out of her hands and put it down on the table facing me, my eyes watering as the raw emotion pulsed through my body; blinking rapidly and biting my cheek to stop myself crying in front of her again.

"Fuck Naomi I'm sorry," she said noticing my distress. "I didn't mean to upset you, I really didn't. Jesus I seem to be fucking everything up today!"

I sniffed a deep breath and put the picture down next to my passing out shot and the photo of me and the guys. The one's I really want to take with me. I stared at the familiar images for a few seconds as I settled myself once more. She sounded really upset and as angry as I was I knew I needed to offer the olive branch.

"Her name was Gina," I told her. "She was my best friend in all the world, I got her that for Christmas when I was seventeen; she gave me this."

I placed our family treasure on the table and lifted the lid, smiling as Emily's eyes lit up at the sight.

"Don't get excited Miss Fitch, it's not real, but it was the closest thing we have to a family heirloom"

She blanched slightly as I continued with my old way of addressing her.

"Naomi?" she said softly. I looked across at her and met her sad eyes. "I really am sorry about following you here. Please don't punish me for it, I really did have your best interests at heart."

"I don't know if it's that easy Miss Fitch," I told her. "I'm responsible for you, and I'd never be able to forgive myself if something happened to you because of me. I don't need another person haunting my sleep you know?"

She looked down at the floor as my words sunk in, after a few seconds she looked up at me with sadness and a hint of shame on her face; perhaps I'd finally got through to her.

"I understand Nomi I really do, I was trying to be selfless, trying to be a friend, in the end I guess I was just being selfish. What I did was stupid and thoughtless, and not just putting myself at risk, I'm sorry I intruded on you as well."

"I know you are, but thank you anyway."

"Can you forgive me?"

"Probably, give me time." It was a total lie, I'd already forgiven her, how the fuck could I not forgive her? I'm totally incapable of doing anything but.

She smiled at my reply and picked up the necklace, holding it up to the single bare 60W bulb that was the only source of light.

"It really is lovely you know. Fake or not it would totally suit you. It matches your eyes."

I couldn't help but snort at that, my eyes aren't nearly that blue; the necklace is a deep sapphire blue, my eyes are much lighter.

"It would work wonderfully with that dress I got you, you should wear it sometime. We're totally going to have to do a few posh events over the next few months, you'll knock people dead."

"I told you…"

"I know Naomi," she interrupted, slotting the necklace into its box and closing the lid, "but you really should show yourself off, you're in great shape and that tattoo is beautiful. You're getting paid the attend these events, why not live a little and enjoy them?"

I shook my head, "it's not me Miss Fitch, that person isn't who I am."

"Ok, fair enough," she said simply placing the jewellery case onto the table and hopefully giving up. "You said your mum gave you the necklace then, for Christmas?"

She was trying to change the subject now, I could tell that. Unfortunately she'd just latched onto another difficult one.

"She did, it was my last ever Christmas present, and she gave it to me because she knew she was going to die."

A tear ran down my cheek as I shared the painful memory with the tiny redhead.

"Do you mind me asking what happened Nomi?"

I pulled out one of the chairs from under the table; moving a box so I could do so and sat down. "Cancer," I said flatly, watching as she moved a heavy box of stuff and pulled out her own chair. "She was diagnosed with lung cancer, which was ironic because she campaigned all her life to have smoking banned in public places. She hated smoking, never touched a cigarette in her life. I think she was very disappointed in me when I started smoking at school."

I sighed sadly, "I did it to piss her off at first, back then I was a very rebellious child. Anyway, by the time they found it, it had spread around her body. They tried everything, surgery, chemotherapy, radiation treatment, everything. It didn't work."

"How long ago was this Naomi, was this when you were in the Army? How did you cope being away from her, that must have been terrible?"

I shook my head. "it was a few weeks before my birthday, I was still only seventeen. I fell asleep in the hospital with her and in the morning she was gone. She died in her sleep, holding my hand."

"I'm sorry Naomi, I really am. I can't think how hard that would have been for you. Did you at least have anyone around to help you?"

"I had no one Miss Fitch, I never knew my dad, we had no relatives; none that were near enough to help me anyway. I had to sort everything out myself, so I borrowed enough to pay for her funeral and to get a long term deal on this place; and sold our home moved everything I didn't sell into here and joined up."

"You borrowed money at seventeen, how on earth did you manage that?"

"I didn't get it from a high street bank if that's what you're wondering. It cost me a fortune, but I made a little selling the house and that helped. Cost me a lot of my wages for the next few years getting straight though."

"Fuck Nomi…"

"Yeah, it was worth it though, I got mum a great plot and a lovely headstone. Did everything right for her, just like she would have wanted."

"You must have loved her very much," she said, turning the frame around and looking at the photographs again.

"I love her more than life itself, I'd have done anything to keep her alive."

"The only person I've ever loved," she muttered half to herself.

"I'm sorry?" I asked her wondering what she meant.

"I asked you last week, when you gave me that talking to in my flat, who made you think like you do. You said it was the only person that ever loved you for who you were; the only person you've ever managed to love back. That was your mum wasn't it? It explains a lot about what you said to me."

I didn't answer, because it wasn't a question that needed answering, she knew she was right. I just got up from my chair, tucked it away and continued to rummage around in my boxes finding the rest of the bits I wanted to take back with me.

I heard the scraping of a chair and then a loud exclamation of pain. I spun around quickly to see Emily stood holding her foot in her good hand, rubbing the toes.

"Are you ok Ems?" I asked, concerned that she'd hurt herself again.

"Stubbed my toe," she said putting her foot back on the floor gingerly and hopping slightly. "What the fuck is in this box?"

I walked over and lifted it carefully onto the table. I wasn't sure what was in it, it was sealed which meant it was one of the boxes I'd put in here when I joined the army. Carefully I peeled back the brown tape and opened it up.

"I forgot about these," I admitted as the short girl stood on tiptoes trying to look in at the objects that had hurt her foot.

"What are they?"

"Video tapes, I found this box in mum's room when I was packing up."

"What are they, home movies?"

"I don't think so, at least I don't remember mum ever having a camera when I was growing up."

She looked up at me, astonishment written over her face. "You mean you've never watched them?"

I shook my head, "No, I never have. At first I couldn't bear to watch them, I found a note from mum saying they were for me to watch, but everything was too raw so I closed the box and put it here. After that, well I didn't have a video any more, technology moved on and I couldn't get anything that would play them anymore. Plus I was never really at home, I guess I sort of moved on and forgot about them."

"Do you still have the note? It might be important….Nomi I can't believe you haven't watched them...they're from your mum!"

"Yeah, it should be in the box, I'll have a look."

I rummaged around in the stacks of camcorder sized cassettes until I found the piece of paper written in my mum's unmistakable scrawl.

'_Hi love,_

_If you're reading this then the inevitable has happened and you've found my little surprise. I can't tell you how happy I was to have experienced nearly eighteen years of your life, and how devastated I am to realise that I won't see you grow up any more. I've watched you blossom from a little bud, so full of potential into a beautiful young woman with a wonderful future ahead of you._

_I can't be there to help you through the years ahead, but in this box there are some things for you to watch that might help a little, I hope you enjoy them._

_Enough scribbling, time to put the first tape in the player and watch your old mum share with you the benefits of her years of experience._

_Remember that I love you Naomi, always have, always will and somehow I'll always be with you, even if it's just in a memory, or one of these memory tapes. I'll never be truly gone as long as I'm in your heart and mind._

_Love you my little baby girl._

_Mum xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx'_

The memory came flooding back as I read the first lines again, I could recall sitting on the floor in my Mum's bedroom and starting to read this letter. I don't think I got to the end, I remember tossing the paper back into the box and running from the room, my feet taking me out of the house with my swim bag and down to the pool to silence the noise.

I passed the letter to Emily without finishing it again, listening as she read it out to me; the words seemed less painful when she said them, rather than my mind imagining the sound of my mum's voice as I read.

I heard a rustle and looked down to see Emily pulling a tape out of the box, it was marked with a big 'eleven' in black pen, and had one word on it; 'Christmas'. With a cry she pulled out another tape, this one marked with a 'forty-five' and the words 'wedding day'.

"Naomi, do you realise what she's done?" Emily asked with a hint of excitement in her voice. "I think she's left you these tapes for the key moments in your life, so she could be there with you."

I looked at her blankly. "Her note Naomi, listen, '_but in this box there are some things for you to watch that might help a little, I hope you enjoy them.' _That's what I think she's done, she made you the memory tapes she mentioned."

I picked up one of the tapes in the box and stared at it, it had a large number two written on it and simply said 'eighteenth'. It was kind of numbing, all this time I had the opportunity to see and hear my mum and I didn't even know it. With a sigh I slotted the tape back into the box.

"I didn't know," I said simply. I never even realised that's what she had done. Stupid really."

"Not really Nomi, you were young, you had just lost your mother; it's totally understandable."

"All too late now though," I said taking the remaining cassette off her and pressing it home. "No way of playing these things anymore."

"You leave that to me," she said, closing the box and pulling it towards herself. She suddenly looked up at me eyes wide.

"Shit, sorry. I'm a totally bossy cow sometimes and I forget about asking. Would you like me to try and get this sorted for you Naomi? I'm sure I can find someone that could convert all these for you so you can watch them."

"I think I would appreciate that Miss Fitch, thank you," I replied picking up the pile of things that I'd placed on the table and placing them into a spare box that I stacked on top of the tape box. Carefully I tucked my driver's licence and passport into my pocket for safe keeping.

"Right, well...that's me done then. I'll just take this stuff back to the car, lock up and we can get you back to Bath Miss Fitch."

"Emily," she said absently as I picked up the box and led her out.

"Yes Miss Fitch."

o+o+o

We drove back to Bath in pretty much silence, Emily was tinkering on her phone in the back and I was concentrating on doing my job. The only interruption was an incoming call from JJ to discuss the travel plans for the next few weeks.

"LT it's not an issue, I have my passport here. I've just picked it up."

"Well that is a relief, we also need a copy of it for our HR records, Jenny was getting angry with me because I didn't get it off you."

"I'll scan it and send it to you or something LT. Seriously, what's the matter you sound like a rookie in a firefight today."

"Rob received another set of photographs today, along with another threatening letter. Good quality photographs as well, shots of the house, the grounds. Pictures of you and Emily and Mrs Fitch."

"LT, Miss Fitch is in the back, I don't…."

"Doing what?" Emily asked, shouting from the back. "How the hell did these people get photo's of us.

"They're distance shots again Miss Fitch," JJ replied sounding sheepish; so he fucking should be, telling me about threats against my charge when he knew I was driving and on a hands free kit.

"It looks like Naomi was teaching your mother to shoot. You were sat reading with a plaster cast Emily, what happened by the wa..."

"So it was Saturday then," I interrupted, remembering the time. "LT can you estimate where the photos were taken from?"

"Well it's difficult to judge distance, but if we estimate from the different photographs how much zoom could be used based on a standard lens…"

"LT, yes or no?"

"Maybe."

I thought about it for a second, perhaps we'd just been handed a break. It's usually the way, people get cocky and do something silly, spying on us from land we knew was a little bit silly.

"LT listen, if you guys can work out the direction and distance you could get some of our guys, or the police to track the shot and look for evidence, you never know they might have been careless. Sending us their surveillance photo's is stupid, if they wanted any of us dead they could have hit us with a sniper rifle if they got this close."

"The threats weren't aimed at any of you though, not this time anyway."

"Doesn't matter LT, my gut tells me there's something iffy going on here. The threat's changed, they tried to kill Miss Fitch a week ago yet now they take photo's and taunt us. Something's not right."

"That's what the guys in our intelligence team said, they think the same as you; something has changed in their plans."

"Well I hope they can come up with an idea LT, the gut isn't telling me what they're doing I'm afraid."

The gut was telling me I should watch the road though, as I was forced to swerve as a Ford Focus pulled out without indicating.

"Look," I told him as I slammed my hand on the horn and gave the old git in the driver's seat the finger. "I've got to go, I'll talk to you about this later."

"Ok, I'll ask the team to do a threat analysis and let you know what they come up with. See you soon Sarge, goodbye Emily."

"Bye JJ," Emily called from the back as I hung up the call. "Are we in danger Naomi?"

"You have to assume we're always in danger Miss Fitch, that's what I've been trying to get across to you. You can't drop your guard unless you're _absolutely_ sure things around you are safe, like at the house when you're inside the security of the cameras, or at the office or your flat for example. Out here we have no control so you have to watch out, or rather I have to watch out for you."

"I like the fact that I have you to watch out for me Nomi," she said with a smile in her voice. "It makes me feel safe."

"That's what you pay me for Emily," I replied, using her first name without even thinking.

"Yeah."

o+o+o

Just under an hour later we were back at Fitch Manor and having lunch at Jenna's insistence after collecting our things and putting them into the car.

"So when will I see you next Emily?" Jenna asked as we both tucked in.

"Possibly the weekend after next, or the one after that mum, before we fly to the States anyway."

"That's a shame dear, I think I might have to come down to the office to see you, perhaps spend the weekend with you if that's all right?"

"That'd be great mum, we could go shopping or something. Or I could treat you to that spa Naomi took me to…Franco would do wonders with your hair, he's a genius."

"Now that does sound like a plan dear, I'll have a word with Colin and see about booking in at the Savoy or somewhere."

"Discretely Mum."

"Have I ever been anything else dear?"

I think I'm listening to a conversation that I'm perhaps supposed to understand, I assume that this 'Colin' is Jenna's golf pro, the guy she's been carrying on with, but I don't know that for sure. Being the master of discretion that I am I kept my mouth shut and concentrated on the vegetable quiche I was eating.

Finally we finished lunch and I left Emily to say her emotional goodbyes; deciding that this once I would carry our bags to the car and put them away.

I knew it was an excuse to avoid the emotions, but I didn't really care.

Eventually Emily appeared at the doorway and made her way down to the car.

"Thanks for sorting my bags Naomi, I appreciate you doing that."

"Not a problem Miss Fitch, I thought you'd appreciate the time alone with your family."

"I did, thanks. Mum and perv want to say goodbye though."

I looked up at the door and sure enough James and Jenna were stood waiting; and I walked the steps like a man on the way up the scaffold to the noose. It's not that I didn't want to say goodbye, it's just I didn't want to be exposed to any more dodgy emotions. I was relieved then when, as I approached, James Fitch stuck out his hand.

"It was lovely to meet you Naomi, look after my sister ok? She might be a bit of a bitch but I am quite fond of her just the way she is; you know, arms, legs and head still attached."

I returned his warm handshake and smiled. "I'll do my best James, do me a favour, don't give Simon too hard a time."

We winked slyly at me and grinned a particularly evil looking grin; I suspect a certain Welshman is going to have a rude awakening when he gets up North.

I turned to Jenna and held out my hand, "Jenna, thank you for everything. You've been a wonderful host."

Jenna took my hand, said, "Oh don't be so bloody formal Naomi dear;" and then dragged me into a hug. "Look after yourself and Emily Naomi, if you need anything let me know."

As she released me she placed a piece of paper into my hand, "I've spoken to Joanna and she's expecting you at six tonight, Emily will make sure you go as well, so don't even think of trying to duck out of this."

I looked at the piece of paper and unfolded it to reveal and name, an address and a phone number.

'Joanna Foster

Counsellor and Family Therapist'

'_Fuck.'_

.

.

.

**A/N** – see you next week nice people. Shall we try and discover a bit more about Sarge in the next chapter? (-:


	30. Hypnosis and Happy Memories

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent and a distinct lack of awesomeness!

Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which still makes me very upset but not as much as before).

**Authors Note **– Oh look it's a round "5" chapter…wonder if that means something important might happen (-:

Well not perhaps in the story, but don't miss the authors note at the end…I have some important "pimpin'" to do…you really do not want to miss this! (-:

**Chapter Disclaimer –** For the record; yes the basic techniques described in here work, yes I have taken a few liberties for those people that may recognise them, yes I have removed some very important steps from those techniques. I like detail and reality folks, but sorry I'm a professional too!

**Chapter 30 – Hypnosis and Happy Memories**

Six o'clock rolled around far too quickly and I found myself parked up outside the address Jenna had given me, wondering if I had the courage to do what I knew I needed to do.

I stared down at the piece of paper in my hand reading and re-reading the name before I was jolted out of my thoughts by the ringing of my phone.

"Close Protection, Naomi Campbell speaking."

"Nomi, it's me. What are you doing?"

"I'm speaking to you Emily, obviously."

"Have you gone into your meeting with Joanna yet?"

"I was just about to."

"No you weren't, you were sitting in the car twiddling your thumbs and wondering how you could get out of it."

"I was not," I said, stuffing my things into my pockets and unclipping my seatbelt as I struggled to hold the phone under my ear. "I've only just got here."

"Nomi you've been parked outside Joanna's for seventeen minutes, I know, I called the agency and I can see you on my computer."

'_Fuck'_, I thought; I had seemingly been caught out again. I really needed to get JJ to sort out my new company car so I could get out of this monster truck.

Admittedly it was a wonderful car, and I loved driving it; but the annoyingly clever little device under the bonnet had caught me out twice now. I'd asked Emily on the way home from Bath how her and Simon had found me at the Cemetery, because I was pretty sure I'd done a number on them and given them the slip. It was then that she admitted that all the Fitch family cars were fitted with tracking devices and that the agency that managed the contract could tell them the GPS location of the car down to a few meters.

"Nomi?"

"Emily, I'll call you back, I've got to go in now."

"Let me know how you get on Nomi, and stop worrying; Joanna's a wonderful woman, she's been a lifeline to me over the years."

"I'm not worried," I told her, hoping that my voice sounded more confident than I felt.

"Of course you're not," she replied and I could almost see the grin on her face as she said it. "Go on, get in there now before you're too late."

She hung up the call and I shoved the phone into my jacket pocket with a snort of disgust; climbing out of the Range Rover and slamming the door behind me. I stood for a second looking at the door when it suddenly opened and a woman in her mid to late forties beckoned me in.

"You'll be Naomi of course," she said as I stepped across the threshold and she closed the door behind me. "Jenna described you rather well I think. 'Tall, blonde and carrying a 'don't fuck with me' attitude' she said over the phone. Seems to suit you nicely if you don't mind me saying so." She paused briefly for breath and looked at me carefully holding out her hand for me to shake.

"Hello, I'm Joanna Foster, but you can call me Joanna or Jo whatever suits you, I'm not hung up on names personally, come on through."

We shook hands and I followed her along the hallway as she showed me down a set of stairs into what I assumed was her consulting room. It wasn't at all what I was expecting; in fact, rather than a musty old room with a dirty looking couch, it was light and modern with a couple of nice black leather chairs sat on a light coloured wood floor.

"Please take a seat Naomi, can I interest you in a drink, tea perhaps? I was just about to make a pot."

"Er, thanks," I said a little taken aback by her demeanour which was not what I expected. "White..."

"Oh no, no milk and no sugar, I'm afraid I only ever drink herbal teas and I only drink them neat," she interrupted heading for the door. "Good for the constitution they are; I won't take no for an answer..."

He voice tailed off slightly as I heard her walk up the stairs and back into the main part of the house. "Go on and sit down Naomi," she called down," we don't stand on ceremony here. I won't be long."

I walked into the room, standing by a wall and staring out of the basement window at the neat little garden I'd walked through. Business must be good for Joanna "not hung up on names" Foster; you don't own or rent a place like this in London unless you're making a fucking fortune, especially with this level of décor. This place must be worth a fortune at current prices, I doubted I'd be able to afford to rent her basement.

I looked around the room once more, searching for information about Joanna Foster. I thought about our introduction for a second, I mean, is it Dr Foster?, Counsellor Foster? Fuck, I don't know anything about who this woman is, or what qualifications she has to do this sort of thing. She could just be some mad old bat that's convinced the Fitch's to part with their cash; one more 'bohemian faith healer' quack. Fuck knows I'd seen enough of those losers growing up. I'd seen a few of the fucking parasites come crawling around my mum when she was ill as well.

"Tea's up!" came a voice from behind me, and I heard footsteps on the stairs and the jingling of cups. I turned to watch Joanna wandering in with a bone china tea service on a plastic tray.

"Look, I, erm…I don't really know what I'm doing here." I said as she poured a cup of what looked like anaemic piss and handed it to me.

"_You're_ hear to help yourself Naomi, _I'm_ here to assist you in doing that."

"Yeah, but…" I started, I didn't get far before she waved me into the chair and started speaking, cutting across my objections.

"Naomi sit down please, just for a second. I'm not here to make you do anything you don't want to. I got a call from an old friend and a valued client of mine and I created a slot in my schedule so we could meet. Now, to let you know where we stand. I haven't spoken to Jenna about anything other than your appearance, and that was only so I would know you when you arrived; and I will not _ever_ discuss anything we talk about with anyone else, even with your permission. To ease the concerns you obviously have, I have formal qualifications in Psychology , Psychotherapy and counselling. I'm a master practitioner of NLP, that's Neuro-Linguistic Programming for the layman but that's totally unimportant; and I'm also a fully qualified hypnotherapist and Time Line Therapist. I'm a little bit radical in that regard, and I firmly believe in the balance of new and old. I think that, despite my years, I'm open enough to see that 'whatever works' is a useful practice for a modern counsellor, and that is what I do in my sessions, anything that works to help you."

She smiled and paused for breath, "I only tell you this because you seem to doubt my ability to help you."

"I'm sorry," I asked confused. "Just how do you work that out?"

"Naomi it's part of my job to study people and that's what I've been doing since you arrived. I know, for example, that you're not at all sure you want to be here. I know that because you sat outside for sixteen minutes and twenty seconds. I know there is someone out there that wants you to be here, because you practically abandoned that car of yours after I saw you take a phone call. You didn't think I'm qualified because you stared at the brass plate on my wall outside and frowned because it only has my name and title, and as soon as you walked into this room you did two things."

"and what might they be?" I asked perhaps a little sarcastically, to be honest it's purely a defensive measure; she's worryingly observant.

"Well the first thing you did when you walked in was look for escape routes, you checked this door, the door to my private study over there and then the window. It was also interesting that when I came down you were stood near the window, but not in line with it, almost as if you didn't want to be exposed to the outside. From that I deduce that you're ex-military, and you've seen combat."

"You could have see that anywhere," I challenged her attempt at being clever. "I was all over the TV and papers a couple of days ago."

'_Got you, you old fraud, get out of that.'_

"Really? Well I must say I don't follow the news, I find it all a bit depressing if I'm truthful, but I see you're still sceptical so here's how I worked it out. I was watching you from the upstairs windows, I saw you pull up, sit around and then take a call and start moving; you got out of your car and immediately checked what was around you as if nervous about your surroundings, yet it was totally habitual, you didn't seem to know you were doing it. You walk with a distinctly military bearing and you practically marched up to my door. When you were stood over there you were unconsciously standing at-ease and furthermore you remind me of every troubled soldier I've ever met."

"Good guesses, but you could be making that up based on what you've found out about me already," I said harshly, my natural cynicism in full flow.

"So what was the other thing you noticed," I continued, trying desperately to change the subject. Her eyes narrowed slightly; not in anger, but in thought, as I spoke.

"The other thing I noticed Naomi was you looking at everything in a frame that I have in here; I assume you were searching for the certificates that tell you what my qualifications are. For the record, I don't put them up on my walls, they're in that folder on the table over there if you're interested. I find that bragging about how qualified you are tends to mean that you're not as good as you think you are."

Now that I understand, I've often thought that the people that go on about their brains, brawn or qualifications are trying to compensate for something they're lacking. I found myself having a tiny bit of respect for this woman, she was nothing like the shrink I'd had to see in the Army.

"So what else have you deduced about me Sherlock?" I asked, softening a little. She smiled at my allusion to the famous detective.

"Well for starters I believe that you're not used to expressing feelings, but that things have been building for a while; now they've finally got too much for you to handle and you've decided to seek help. I think you're scared of what's happening to you, and you're very nervous of talking to me about it for lots of reasons that we'll explore as time goes on; and I believe that it's a loved one that's pushed you into doing this, because you made it in here seemingly willingly, but your unconscious mind is screaming at you to get up out of that chair and run away. I can tell that by just looking at you."

"It's not a loved one," I told her firmly. "It was Jenna and Emily Fitch, they suggested I came. But I wanted help, I was planning to get help before they ambushed me to come here; I just hadn't had chance to sort it out."

"Well I was close enough wasn't I," she said suddenly beaming at me, "see I do know what I'm talking about."

"I didn't say that," I told her adamantly. "I only said that it wasn't a loved one."

"Oh but you did Naomi, you nodded along unconsciously with me when I spoke and you haven't stormed off; despite the fact that a part of you wants to run. You even nodded at the words 'loved one' which implies that you have some feelings for Jenna and Emily, despite what you're trying to tell me right now."

"So all this is supposed to help me how?" I asked, deflecting again. She eyed me shrewdly and I had the horrible feeling that she'd just seen right through me.

"It's not, supposed to help that is. Not really, this is what I like to call a feeling out session. I find that there's a lot of people that come to see me that are really concerned about being here and that affects our relationship, if we don't have a relationship that works then this..." she gestured around her room, "none of this can work."

"What's 'this'?" I said mimicking her gesture with just a hint of sarcasm.

"This is my space, my place to come and deal with my issues, my sanctuary; a place of safety and security if you like. If I can welcome you into my sanctuary and you allow it to become a sanctuary of yours as well, then, and only then, can we work together."

I stared at her wondering if she was going to grow another fucking head; a fucking sanctuary? I mean, seriously, she's having a fucking laugh! I was considering getting up and walking out when she asked me a question that stunned me.

"Do you not have a sanctuary, your own special safe place Naomi, a place where you can go where no-one and nothing can touch you?"

My mind suddenly filled with the image of a swimming pool, ironically the swimming pool that was next to the gym in the apartment complex I was staying in. I was taken straight back to that morning when I had a very early start before driving across to Fitch Manor, the morning before my life turned upside down all over again. When I was totally alone in the cool dark water with nothing but my thoughts to accompany me, a place where no-one had ever been able to hurt me.

"_That's_ the place," Joanna said to me. "Right there, bring that place into here, anchor that feeling as you sit in that chair. Feel the tranquillity of that special, safe place and expand it to fill this entire room."

I felt my body relax as I listened to her soft, almost melodic tones. Her voice was mesmerising and I couldn't help but push that bubble of peace outwards at her subtle insistence.

"Good, now allow me to be included in that feeling, allow it to wash over me, envelop me and then pass through me. Include me in your safe place as I include you in mine. Can you do that for me Naomi?"

"I think so," I replied, trying to imagine her swimming beside me in that cold water.

"Good, now Naomi. How do you feel right now."

"Relaxed," I said. I was surprised, I'd never heard myself speak when I felt like this, normally I was alone and had no need to talk to anyone, plus my head was mostly underwater and that's really not conducive to speaking. I was amazed to find my voice was low, very low, sounding much more mellow that its usual tone. I would never share it with anyone, but it sounded a little like my after sex voice.

"That's good Naomi; now, what I'd like you to do is hold on to that feeling and if you are totally ok with this, I want you to try and relax even more. Are you totally ok with doing this Naomi? You can say no if you do not feel comfortable."

"I'm fine," I said trying to allow myself to relax even further.

"Listen to me Naomi, let my voice go with you. Take a deep breath and relax. As you continue to breath in deeply and exhale slowly you are learning to relax. At first you may be more aware of some things than you were before. The sounds of the room, the sound of my voice and thoughts or feelings that may drift through the mind automatically and that's fine.

As you continue to relax I'd like you to put your awareness on your feet and imagine the muscles relaxing, as you imagine them relaxing you will find that they will do so."

I felt the soles of my feet soften as I allowed them to relax, my legs automatically following suit.

"Now imagine that feeling of relaxation flowing up to your calf muscles and relax all the muscles of the calves, that's good! Now, allow that feeling of relaxation to flow up to the thighs and relax the thighs; let the legs become very heavy and relaxed, almost as if they were sinking into the chair."

I felt heavier and heavier as I listened to her voice. Feeling as if the chair was part of me and we were both a part of that solid wooden floor.

"Now allow that feeling of relaxation to flow up to the stomach muscles and relax all the stomach muscles, let them become loose, lose all that tension in your middle…now allow that feeling of relaxation to flow up to the chest and the back and relax all those muscles; moving up to the shoulders and from the shoulders down to the arms, the forearms, the hands and even the fingers. Let every part of your chest and arms just relax.

Now, put your awareness back up to your neck muscles; first the left side, then the right side of the neck, relaxing all the way up to the muscles in your jaw, the facial muscles around the eyes, the forehead and finally even the scalp muscles relaxing."

I couldn't help but obey as my body went about the business of relaxing itself. I'd never been so relaxed in my life; it was then a little warning siren went off in my head and I snapped out of my coma with a jolt.

"Are you trying to fucking hypnotise me?" I said, suddenly leaping out of my oh, so comfortable seat. "What the actual fuck are you fucking thinking? You don't fucking trick people into shit like that!"

I'd snapped, spun one-eighty degrees from total tranquillity and calm to raging fury. I was out of my chair fists clenched as my anger at being tricked erupted.

"Yes Naomi, that's exactly what I was trying to do, but I wasn't trying to trick you and I wasn't trying to hypnotise you for any negative reasons."

She faced me down, cool and calm facing enraged and aggressive. I saw nothing but confidence in her eyes, nothing that denied the truth in her voice.

"I apologise if you think I tried to trick you, I did ask if you were ok with relaxing and you did say you were; I thought you understood that I would try whatever I thought was needed to make our sessions work. I'm sorry if that was a misunderstanding between us."

I grunted as an answer and eyed her suspiciously, like a predator eying her next victim.

"I find the beginnings of an hypnotic induction can help people relax faster than anything else," she explained. "I was not about to make you bark like a dog whenever someone said 'orange'. I can't make you do anything you don't want to do Naomi, that's not how hypnosis works; and I am not a stage hypnotist performing cheap tricks for others amusement, I am a professional hypnotherapist. I have standards, you understand?"

She actually sounded affronted at the thought and I felt my hands unclench as the rage bubbled away in the face of that ineffable calm. She's annoyed because I called her professionalism into question in my rage, but she is trying not to let me know it; that is something I understand, and can respect.

"Will you sit down once more and talk to me? Allow me to explain?"

I nodded and sat in the soft leather chair stiffly, still not allowing myself to completely relax.

"Thank you, now to explain, all I want you to do is allow yourself to feel safe here. Allow your safe feeling to surround you when you walk into this room. I want you to feel as totally relaxed as you can so that nothing that happens in this room can bother you. I can tell already that we're going to talk about some traumatic incidents in your life and I don't want those incidents to magnify in your mind and become worse as a result. Does that make sense?"

"I think so," I said formally. "But it doesn't explain why you couldn't explain that before you started."

"It was a misunderstanding Naomi, I apologise again. I thought we understood each other about who I am and what I do, basically I saw an opportunity and I took it; with the permission of your unconscious mind I hasten to add. It was your conscious mind that dragged you back a second ago; it was your unconscious that allowed you to relax. It's an interesting dilemma for me as I think about it, normally it's the other way around."

"I'm sorry?"

"People want to be hypnotised consciously, but it is the fact that their unconscious mind holds some of their fears and prevents them from truly relaxing that stops them reaching a trance state. In your case it's the other way around it seems."

"So what the fuck does that mean?"

"Naomi, that's what we're going to have to discover together, if you're brave enough to try."

"I'm not a coward!" I challenged, feeling the blood start to pump rapidly through my veins again at her implication.

"I never said you were Naomi, I just said you'd need to be brave; it's not the same thing. Now, tell me honestly are you willing to try again? Are you willing to put away your suspicions and trust me to try and help you in any way I can?"

I squinted my eyes at her suspiciously and then nodded, fuck it; I can be fucking brave, what have I got to lose?

"Good, now I want you to sit back and try to relax, think about your safe place and listen to my voice, let my voice go with you as you picture yourself there…

o+o+o

It was blissful, just sitting there allowing myself to relax once again; I'd been listening to her reassuring voice as she led me back down the path to where my whole body seemed to be oozing into the floor.

"Now as relaxed as you are Naomi, we can deepen this relaxation much, much more. In a moment I'm going to have you open and close your eyes. When you close your eyes that is your signal to take this feeling of relaxation and have it become 10 times deeper.

All you have to do is to want it to happen and you can allow that to happen easily. Ok, so gently allow your eyes to open...and close them down and go 10 times deeper.

Use your wonderful imagination and imagine that your entire body is wrapped in a warm safe blanket of relaxation where every breath takes you even deeper. In a moment I'm going to have you open and close your eyes again. When you close your eyes double the relaxation you now have. Let it become twice as deep.

Ok now, gently allow your eyes to open... and close them down and double that relaxation."

She led me through the routine twice more before pausing.

"How are you feeling now Naomi?"

"Pretty fucking good actually," I heard a deep voice say from somewhere nearby.

"Excellent. Are you aware of your surroundings?"

I opened my eyes once more and looked around me, I could see everything clearly, this isn't what I imagined hypnosis to be like. This was just like being in that moment between awake and asleep, except totally conscious, and totally at ease. I can honestly say I don't think I've ever felt this way before.

"I think so," I told her carefully, my voice still feeling like it was coming from somewhere else.

"You think so Naomi, what does that mean to you?"

"It means I don't feel any different, I can see, I can smell, I can feel. I just feel like I weigh a million tonnes and I can't move my muscles."

"Is that bad?"

"No," I said amazing myself because under normal circumstances feeling like this would freak me out. "I'm ok with it; for now."

"Good," she said sounding pleased. "If it's ok with you, in a second I'm going to touch the knuckle of your right hand, is that totally ok with you and your unconscious mind Naomi?"

I nodded and closed my eyes again, not feeling worried as I waited to feel her finger press against my knuckle.

"As you continue to relax I want you to recall a time when you felt wonderful, a time when you felt in control of your life, a great time a positive time a time when you felt totally loved. Now this may have been a time as an adult or a time as a child, it may have been a special event, a celebration, a holiday, a party, any wonderful happy time that kind of makes you want to smile on the inside and out. Can you do that Naomi? Can you think of a time when you were totally in control of yourself, totally happy; totally loved?"

I thought back to the happy memories in my life, the ones that bring a smile to my face. Images flashed by, me and my mum, Christmases and holidays. Me and Whitey, parties and piss ups. Me and Emily...

"There, that one right there Naomi; hold on to that powerful memory and allow yourself to sink into that happy time in your life."

Unbidden my mind froze on that one, spectacular moment, a moment that I now realised filled me with happiness.

"Now Naomi, As you begin to recall that wonderful happy time I want you to nod your head 'Yes' ok?"

I felt my head nod once, I had no idea why it did it, or what that 'yes' meant, but something inside me did it for me.

"Good, Naomi...now as I touch the back of your hand I want you to bring back the wonderful feeling."

She touched me lightly on my knuckle and then lifted away.

"As I touch the back of your hand again," she continued unrelentingly, "I would like you to bring back these wonderful feelings _even_ _stronger_. As you feel these feelings getting even stronger I want you to nod your head 'Yes' ok?"

My mind delved deeper into that memory of Emily Fitch, the way her lips pressed against mine, the way her tongue flicked back and forth as it pushed its way into my mouth. I could almost feel her hands in my hair, her nails dragging down my back. I could smell the way she smelt, taste the way she tasted, everything. I let my mind dive headlong into that one blissful moment in my life when Emily Fitch kissed me in a dark, dusty summerhouse. I immersed myself in the feeling of Emily and allowed my imagination to wander through the memory, imagined how it would have been if I'd placed my hands onto her body, slipped that long red dress to the floor and allowed myself to submit to the animal inside; the animal that wanted to tear at her clothing, that wanted nothing more than to strip Emily Fitch to her bare skin and fuck her right there on the floor of her own happy place, her own sanctuary.

The images were so vivid it was if they had actually happened; as if Joanna had given it permission, my mind railed against the rigid walls I had placed around my libido and told me exactly what I had wanted to do. It showed me what would have happened if I had relaxed my iron control for just one second and allowed myself to just be. At some point in that cacophony of feelings; feelings that overlapped and fought for dominance, I must have nodded again and Joanna's voice cut through my near dreaming state.

"Excellent Naomi, excellent. Now every time you or I touch your knuckle like so, these wonderful feelings come back even stronger, not the images, not the memories, just the feelings. Those feelings of being totally happy, totally in control and totally loved; every time it happens it will make you feel like you want to smile on the inside and out."

It was then I realised that I was smiling, through the relaxed haze I could feel the tightening of my cheeks as my body betrayed me. I hoped against hope that she couldn't see what I was thinking right now, the dizzyingly erotic thoughts of me and Emily Fitch that were flooding my brain, drowning out everything else, drowning out the past.

"Now Naomi, in a second I want you to open your eyes and become totally aware of your surroundings, I'm going to count you up, and you're going to be totally focussed, but still totally relaxed. Nothing will be able to upset you, you are totally in control. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, I'm in control and totally relaxed; I understand."

Part of me didn't want to leave this state, it was the best feeling I had had in months, years even. It beat every high I had ever had, booze, adrenaline, everything. But my guide told me it was time and my mind was telling me to trust her once more.

"Good, so I'm going to count up from one to five; When we reach five you'll be back in the room and ready for our session. Totally relaxed and totally in control; if you're ready to leave this state for a new one Naomi, I want you to nod your head 'Yes' ok?"

I nodded again. "Thank you Naomi, here we go, coming back into total awareness. One...you are beginning to emerge from hypnosis. Two...coming all the way back now. Three... feeling that positive energy surge through your whole body. Four...feeling as though you've had a wonderful night's sleep. Five...eyes open...feeling wonderful in every way... feeling _wonderful_ in _every_ way."

I blinked as the light hit my eyes and looked around me. Joanna was sat opposite me in her char with a gentle smile on her face.

"Welcome back Naomi, how are you feeling right now?"

"Pretty good surprisingly, I wasn't expecting to feel like this."

"Good Naomi, I'm glad you trusted me enough to try this with me, thank you. I'm glad it's made you feel good; do you think you're ready to talk to me a little bit about why you are here now?"

I wanted to say no, but I couldn't find a reason not to answer her in the affermative. Normally I have everything boxed up so tightly I'm scared to let things out, keeping my humanity and emotions boxed away so they could survive the images of war that I lived with twenty-four seven. But here, here in this safe place we had created, I felt able to speak; or at least start to speak.

"Good, thank you," she said and I realised that I must have nodded once more. "Let's take it nice and easy, there is no pressure here, you can tell me as much or as little as you like. We won't be able to do everything in one session, and we shouldn't even try."

"I'm here because I have nightmares."

"Ok, and would you like to talk about these nightmares?"

I flailed around for a second as I was caught in the dichotomy. I wanted, needed to talk about the nightmares, that's why I was putting myself through this shit. But at the same time I couldn't bring myself to dive in there; safe environment or not."

"It's ok Naomi," she said sensing my discomfort and leaning over to touch me gently on the back of my hand. Placing her finger on my knuckle which, despite my usual cynicism of these things, filled me once again with an overwhelming sense of peace and love.

"We can take this as slowly as you need remember? Just tell me what you can, and we'll take it from there."

o+o+o

Never have two hours vanished so fast in my life, it seemed like I was walking up that narrow staircase mere seconds after I had walked down it. I don't know what it was about that mad old bat but she filled me with a sense of confidence and a sense of comfort. Perhaps it was the fact that I recognised a fellow professional, perhaps it was that I was truly desperate and would latch onto anyone; I didn't really know. What I did know was that the two hours I'd spent with her in that room had been better than weeks of so called 'therapy' with the Army shrink.

It wasn't even as if we'd even talked about much; as she had promised she had let me take things at my own pace. I'd given her a few hints about my background and she'd asked me a few questions. It felt like we were just chatting, even though I knew there was much more to it than that. Like a carefully organised military strategy I knew she was probing my defences, looking to see where I was strong and I was weak. Unlike a soldier though, she saw no need to attack the weak spots, instead withdrawing to a safe distance each time she came close, allowing me to reinforce my position and relax once more.

I sat in the leather seat of the Range Rover and stared at my phone, it was a part of my ongoing therapy that I had 'homework' to do…

"_I ask you to do this Naomi because I believe it would be useful for you."_

"_But what if I don't want to do it Joanna?"_

"_Then you won't do it, nor will I force you to do so, I merely ask you to do it if you can. There's no rush to this Naomi, we will have another session tomorrow at the same time, and the next day and the next for as long as you feel you need it."_

"_Do you really think it will help?"_

"_I think it will be a start."_

"_I'll try it."_

"_Only if you're totally ok with it Naomi, I remind you that you make the decisions here, you're the one in control."_

"_It's ok, I understand. If I bottle out, I bottle out."_

"_If that happens, we'll talk about it tomorrow Naomi. Speaking of which I want to try a technique called Time Line Therapy tomorrow. It's a little 'out there' for some people but I've had some great results with it. I want you to feel ok with it as an idea so I'll give you a book on it; take a look so you can feel comfortable that it's not me being a total hippy. Consider it another part of your homework if you like."_

We'd ended the session immediately after I'd tucked the small book into my jacket. Reading through it wouldn't be a problem, it wasn't exactly 'War and Peace'. Before that though there was something I needed to do.

I picked up the phone and flicked through my small list of contacts with my thumb until I found the name I needed to speak to. Hesitantly I pressed the call button and waited, listening anxiously to the metallic sound of the phone ringing, for the other person to pick up.

"Nomi!" Emily practically shouted as the call was answered, before I could speak she was off and running with the questions. "

Are you ok? How did it go with Joanna? How do you feel? Did it help at all? Are you going back?""

"I'm fine Emily, it went well. Look, are you free at the moment? I really need to talk to you."

.

.

.

**A/N** – There you go, one little step forwards perhaps? Who knows...well apart from me (-:

Anyway, an announcement I mentioned, especially for those of you that aren't following the nutters on Twitter.

There's a new kid in town people, a new 'author' that's writing a whole new type of Naomily story. Got you interested?

Would you be more interested if I mentioned that 16 different Naomily writers from this site including one Heather Anne Hogan will be writing it?

Bet that got your attention didn't it!

For more information and the opportunity to sign up to the most exciting thing to happen in the last five minutes either search for the author _Predators and Prey_.

I very much doubt you'll regret it!


	31. Start!

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent and a distinct lack of awesomeness!

Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which still makes me very upset but not as much as before).

**Authors Note **– Hello, thanks for the kind words last week, glad that you seemed to forgive me for cheating a bit with Joanna's session there. I do believe a little knowledge can be dangerous, but you can obviously still have fun with a few safe parts.

Oh aod for the record there are no baseball bats in Joanna Fosters future, not unless Sarge is wielding it - I just couldn't resist a tiny tie in to S4, it's sad I know but I couldn't resist.

Anyway, just a short chapter this week, bit of filler. Hope you enjoy it and I hope that you can keep up with the memories and song lyrics that are scattered in there - Oh and if you don't like the length, blame Hawke and then go and read 'The Game', those chapters are even shorter but BOY do they pack a punch!

**Chapter 31 – Start!**

'_It's not important for you to know my name. Nor I to know yours. If we communicate for two minutes only it would be enough. For knowing that someone in this life, feels as desperate as me; and what you give is what you get.'_

I sat in the car, parked around the corner from Emily's building once again nervously twiddling my fingers waiting for inspiration to strike me the sound of The Jam bellowing out of the speakers.

Joanna and I had talked for a long time in that room, and I'd been deliberately cagey for most of it. She'd asked about mum and I'd simply told her she'd died, she asked about friends and I'd told her that they were either dead or I had lost touch. She asked me about my best friend and I told her I'd lost him in Afghanistan, she asked me about Jenna and I told her how cool I thought she was, and how helpful she had been to me; and then finally she asked me about Emily and I told her she was just my package.

Almost inevitably, she hadn't believed me.

o+o+o

"_What does that mean Naomi, why do you call her a package?" Joanna asked sitting back into her chair and _

"_It means she's the thing I have to protect, that's what we called them in the CPU, they're not people they're packages."_

"_Why do you call them that? It's a very dehumanising phrase."_

"_Exactly!"_

"_How so?"_

_You can't think of them as human, you can't like or dislike them, you just have to keep them alive. It's like moving a parcel, you don't have to like it, you don't have to feel anything for it, you just have to move it from one place to another without dropping it."_

"_So, is that why it bothers you that you care about Emily?"_

"_Yes, that's why it fucking bothers me…"_

_She smiled at me as I realised what she'd done and tried to clam up. "Come now Naomi; remember, this is our safe place, you can talk about anything here. We're going to talk about some of those difficult memories soon, I think it would be useful to start with how you feel now."_

_I glared at her, not believing how easily she'd got past me. Safe place indeed; Jesus, it was just as well I didn't go to my fucking 'safe place' during my interrogation training or I'd probably have spilt my guts when they started with the interrogators version of 'hello, how are you'._

"_So how _do_ you feel about Emily? And please Naomi, for your own good, don't lie to me; these sessions can only work if you tell me the absolute truth that's in your heart."_

"_Why's that?" I asked trying to deflect again._

"_Because it's not about telling me, it's about allowing yourself to tell _you; _if you won't admit things to yourself Naomi this is all useless. I ask you to tell me the truth because admitting the truth is the first step to understanding how you feel, and when you understand how you feel we can help you deal with those feelings."_

"_I don't _do_ feelings," I told her firmly, sitting back and folding my arms. _

"_That's a lie Naomi, of course you _do_ feelings, if you didn't you wouldn't be with me now. You wouldn't have nightmares, in fact you wouldn't be able to function normally in society the way you do. You might not like admitting to having feelings, or even to admitting to have certain, very specific, feelings but that's a different thing all together and not unusual in people like you."_

"_Like me?"_

"_Yes, people that have been exposed to a major trauma; you see closing down feelings, trying not to have them if you like, is a standard response. You're acting perfectly normally Naomi; but it's not a useful normal, not out here in the real world anyway, and that's what I'm here to assist you with."_

_I stared across at her trying to process what she had just told me. She smiled knowingly and waited for me to get my head around the fact that I wasn't doing anything she hadn't seen before. I'd never really considered that she might understand, I thought it was something that only people that had lived through it would get._

"_So, with that in mind Naomi," she continued, "how _do_ you feel about Emily?"_

"_Confused," I told her truthfully, she raised an eyebrow and waited for me to continue._

"_We didn't get a good start, I think I pissed her off with a stunt I pulled at their home, then she started treating me like a fucking servant and I really hate shit like that. I'm skilled and I don't like being treated disrespectfully, so I was a bit of a bitch in return."_

"_Fighting fire with fire?" Joanna asked as I paused to think about what I'd said._

"_Yeah, I guess. Then there was the whole incident on the M4 and the shit that happened afterwards. Then it was like she flipped a switch, went from cold to hot all of a sudden and it was like I was her best friend."_

"_Is that what's confusing you?"_

"_No, yes…in part I suppose," I said as I thought about it. "But it's not the main thing, I still think she's playing with me."_

"_How so?"_

"_Joanna, is this really confidential, I mean this isn't going to go any further than me and you is it?"_

"_Naomi, I said that I don't talk to people even if you give me permission to. Nothing you say will go outside of this room I promise you that faithfully. Now, why do you think she's playing with you?"_

"_Because everything changed after she found out I was gay. My ex-fucking-girlfriend practically outed me to the entire Fitch family live on the fucking news."_

"_Were you not out before hand?"_

"_Of course I was, but it was my second day with them and it hadn't exactly come up in conversation, having a chat about your sexuality isn't exactly top of my things to do list when I'm being shot at."_

"_So what changed Naomi," she said, her soft voice unwavering at my sarcasm. "Why does it bother you like it does?"_

"_She changed, she went from being all closed and bitchy to all friendly and touchy. Like I was her best fucking mate, calling me Naomi, giving me a pet name, insisting that I call her Emily."_

"_and that's confused you? Her wanting to be friendly and wanting you to be friendly back?"_

"_That and the kiss," I blurted without thinking. To her credit Joanna didn't even blink._

"_Do you want to talk about that?"_

_For some reason I did, I told her everything about the night; what I'd done, how I'd spied on Emily and her father's argument, how I'd needed to go and find her when she vanished, all about our chat in the dark and that wonderful, drunken kiss, and how the next morning I'd told her I regretted that it had happened because of our professional relationship. I'd even told her of my change of heart in the pool, the hospital, the Fitch family dinner; and what she'd done to curb the horror of the nightmares that followed._

o+o+o

So here I am now, following her advice, sitting here thinking of how I could properly discuss things with Emily, express my feelings to her rather than lock them away. Trying to let myself 'be free'.

I fucking hate being 'free'.

Mum and her mates were 'free', the kids in school were 'free', Emily fucking Fitch and her family are 'free'.

I'm not 'free'. I don't know _how_ to be 'free'.

_'For knowing that someone in this life, feels as desperate as me; and what you see is what you get.'_

It was one of the things I loved about army life, technically you were free, but you could absorb yourself in the minutia of the military. Ranks, regiments, structure, rules; always rules. My life was filled with the comforting presence of rules; rules and order, something to lose yourself in, something that stopped you getting bullied for being different.

I'm not really different, and yet I am. I've always been different, instead of enjoying the freedom that mum gave me willingly I railed against it. Whilst the kids at school complained bitterly in their whining voices about curfews and restrictions I found myself longing for them.

It wasn't until I was much older that I realised that it was my mother's way of showing her love for me, at the time I thought she simply didn't care.

Freedom equalled lack of love in my teenage eyes, and it left a mark that I still fought against.

It's funny but I almost had to get Joanna to order me to come and see Emily; funny and rather sad, Joanna having made me admit that I make up my own rules to restrict myself. I always had and I guess I still do.

o+o+o

'_So James Cook told you explicitly that you shouldn't get involved with Emily."_

"_Well, no, not explicitly. He told me that he'd got involved with Effy when he was working for her, and that it had been the best decision he'd ever made."_

"_So rather than forbid it outright, your boss practically encouraged you to explore a potential relationship with Emily, is that right?"_

"_I guess so, yes."_

"_So where did this rule of yours come from Naomi?"_

"_I guess I decided it."_

"_Why?"_

That was the killer question, and as we had explored my reasoning, I discovered that it was done to make me comfortable. I built up my own rules, my own barriers, my own boundaries; and I did it all to make me feel good, make me feel safe and for no other reason. Well apart from the one about not getting hurt anymore, that had come as a bit of a shock when it finally came out.

I was scared of getting close to people because I didn't want to get hurt when they died.

It wasn't a shock to me or Joanna that it was in there, tucked away fucking up my head; it came as a shock to _me_ that I told her about it.

"_So I have something for you to do Naomi, but only if you feel comfortable in doing it."_

"_Yeah? What is it you want me to do Joanna?"_

"_I want to you go and talk to Emily about all this. I would like it if you could push aside your barriers for two minutes and discuss all of this with her. I think this could prove to be a barrier for you, both professionally and personally. You're conflicted about your feelings for Emily and I think you need to clear this in your mind before we can move on."_

"_Things aren't that simple Joanna."_

"_I never suggested they were, I'm merely giving you my professional advice."_

"_Yeah, but you're the one telling me to do it."_

"_I _ask_ you to do this Naomi because I believe it would be useful for you."_

"_But what if I don't want to do it Joanna?"_

"_Then you won't do it, nor will I force you to do so, I merely ask you to do it if you can. There's no rush to this Naomi, we will have another session tomorrow at the same time, and the next day and the next for as long as you feel you need it."_

So here I am, sat outside Emily's flat in St John's Wood, trying to muster the courage to finish what I started. It's not easy, I'm trying to run all of the things through my head that I want to discuss with her. Trying to make myself a little checklist, of everything I need to say, everything I need to get clear, everything I need to tell her. All the time Paul Weller and the boys dropping me hints as to what I need to do.

_'It doesn't matter if we never meet again, What we have said will always remain. If we get through for two minutes only, It will be a start!'_

A start, that's all we really need isn't it, a start? A chance for me to put my cards on the table and for her to do the same. 'If we communicate for two minutes only it _would_ be a start', perhaps it would even be 'enough'. Perhaps I can go back to being her CPO again, without the extra complications.

"_Is that what you really want Naomi? Is that what Emily wants?"_

"_I don't know Joanna, I really don't know."_

"_Then you really need to find out."_

The lift doors opened with her words ringing in my ears. I stood in the lift for a second before putting out a hand quickly as the doors went to close once more; stopping them in their tracks and leaning back again.

I repeated this activity about seven more times before a familiar low voice dragged me from my internalisation.

"Were you planning on getting out of that lift any time soon, or should I go back in and put the kettle on?"

I looked up and saw a familiar set of eyes looking intently at me, a merry little twinkle visible as she leaned casually against the wall opposite me.

"I'm working on it," I told her, "but a cup of tea might be nice."

Emily tilted her head and smiled, "I'll go put the kettle on, knock when you're ready to come in. Apparently I can't leave my doors unlocked with all these dangerous people around."

"Probably shouldn't come out into the corridor to see who's in the lift either," I told her, sticking out my foot this time to arrest the doors. "Could have been any kind of dangerous nutter."

"I needed to do something Nomi, the noise was driving me mad. I'll go back inside then and make a drink, take your time; unless you think someone might actually need that lift that is."

She flicked her body and pushed herself off the wall with her bum, before slipping down the short corridor to her door. I stood for about a minute after I heard her door open and slam closed once more, and mentally pulled myself together; I could totally do this, I can be brave. With a sigh I stood, straightened my clothing with a jerk and walked out of the lift; the doors closing behind me with a clunk.

I knocked on the closed door to Emily's flat, only to hear a voice drift out from behind.

"Who is it?"

"It's me Emily."

"Who's me?"

"Me is Naomi Emily, can you open up please?"

"Can you step back so I can see you please Naomi?"

I felt a little sense of pride as I stepped backwards so she could see me through the little spy-hole in the door. I know she's taking the piss more than a little bit, but these were all things I'd told her to do to maximise her safety, and I was happy to see that she might actually be considering doing them.

With a click, the door opened to reveal a grinning Emily Fitch, looking very pleased with herself. She gestured for me to come in and closed the door behind me, latching and locking it securely for good measure.

"Was that right?" she asked, "was that the safe way of opening my door?"

"You forgot to put the chain on to make sure someone couldn't just shove their way in from the side after you opened it, and I don't see the deodorant we discussed nearby."

"Don't need it," she said smugly, holding up a small spray bottle that was tucked away in her hand. "I got hold of some pepper spray from a mate in the trade. Much better than spraying their eyes with 'Right Guard'."

"Nice," I told her; even with my background as an MP, I wasn't in the slightest bit worried about the legality of what she had in her hand. If someone's trying to kill you, whether your means of self defence is legal or not should be the least of your worries. 'Anything that works' my old sensei had said to me, down the years I'd discovered the wisdom of his words.

"Put the chain on next time Emily, just in case ok? Even if it's me and you can see me in the spy-hole, someone might have a gun to my head you know?"

"Yes Master Yoda," she said with a smirk, tossing the bottle of pepper spray to me and flouncing off to the kitchen. I placed the bottle down on the table by the door and went to follow her.

"Go make yourself at home Nomi, I'll be through in a minute."

I turned to the left and walked into her tiny living room, sitting myself down on one of the small but comfortable chairs. True to her word moments later Emily appeared with two steaming cups, handing one to me and sitting herself down opposite me in the other chair.

"So, I take it Joanna gave you homework to do that involves me," she said out of the blue taking a sip of her drink as I looked at her in shock.

"Fucking bitch, she told me everything was confidential," I muttered angrily, the pulse in the side of my head throbbing painfully as the stress of the situation got to me.

"Relax Naomi, Joanna hasn't spoken to me tonight, in fact I haven't spoken to her since my last session with her about six months ago. I just know how she works that's all, and you can out of her session and rang me. I'm afraid to say that's got her fingerprints all over it. So come on, what is it you needed to speak to me about?"

"Us." I told her flatly, "Joanna suggested that I need to talk to you about us."

"Us? What about us?" she asked leaning forward and cupping her drink in both hands, tapping at the china with a fingernail.

"_Everything_ about us Emily," I told her. "Joanna started our session generally and for some reason decided then to focus on me and you. Apparently I need to deal with this situation before I can move onto the other things in my life."

"Deal with what 'situation' Naomi, the fact that I kissed you and you told me you regretted it."

"That's not what I said," I told her defensively.

"That's exactly what you told me Naomi, but it doesn't matter, it doesn't change anything."

Considering it 'doesn't matter', it certainly sounds like it matters; though she'd shown no indication of that until right now. Right now she sounds pretty hurt, pretty pissed off actually.

"Well it's not what I meant, well it's not really what I meant." I started, probably confusing her further with my attempts to explain. "Look, Emily; can I explain all this to you my way please? Then if you need to get angry, you can get angry ok? You can even throw things at me and hit me if you like, but I have to do this. I have to get rid of those nightmares because they're fucking killing me and if they get worse they might just kill you, you understand?"

She nodded slightly and sat back into her chair, her drink forgotten; those beautiful brown eyes staring at me, examining every move that I made. I took a sip from my drink before putting it down onto the handy coffee table and settling back.

"This isn't easy for me Emily, I want you to know that. I don't do feelings, well apparently I don't like admitting I have feelings anyway, but that's a different thing altogether according to Joanna." I paused and tried to settle myself again, tried to stop my verbal diarrhoea from flowing.

"Anyway, I think I should talk to you about that night; try to be honest with you about what happened. I know you had a fight with your dad, I saw you on the surveillance cameras," I continued, neatly circumventing the fact that I'd listened in as well, perhaps that would be too much for her to take.

"I saw you head off and start drinking and I went after you as soon as I could. I searched the fucking house for you until I bumped into Bonnie and she told me where you were. I was worried sick about you."

"What you thought I was in danger again, heading off like that?"

"No, yes…no, fuck it...no Emily, I was fucking worried about you because you looked so fucking upset, and for some strange fucking reason I actually like you and I hated the thought that you were off somewhere upset and alone."

"You say you like me, I know you like me Naomi. I can tell. Doesn't stop you hurting me though does it?"

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, this had come along far too quickly for me. I'd hoped to build up to this point slowly but the endless outpouring of verbal shite had got me here before I was perhaps ready.

"I'm sorry if I've hurt you Emily, I've never tried to do that; and yes Emily I like you, that's the problem with what's going on. I really like you, I really like you a lot."

She stared at me her eyes asking me the question I knew what hovering on her lips _'what the fuck are you on about Naomi?'_ I took a breath and finished what I needed to say.

"I guess what I'm trying to say is that I more than like you Emily; what I'm trying to say is that I'm attracted to you, In fact I'm very attracted to you. I have been attracted to you ever since the moment I saw you in your Dad's office. When you turned around in that chair and glared at me. That's what's making these games you're playing so fucking difficult for me, that's why I feel I can't be friends with you. I think you're pretty fucking wonderful when you're not playing the bitch, and I don't want to be responsible for your death."

Emily squinted her eyes and looked questioningly at me, "What are you trying to say Nomi, I don't understand."

"I'm trying to say I'm falling for you Emily Fitch, and your mate Joanna has just helped me learn how hard."

Emily stared at me with a face that would win top table at a poker competition; it was then I felt a sinking in my stomach and the sure knowledge that doing this had just backfired majorly.

_'For knowing that someone in this life, loves with a passion called hate; and what you _give_ is what you _get_."_

.

.

.

**A/N** – There you go, another little step forwards But is it a very large step back for Sarge?

Well you'll have to wait until next week to find out won't you...if I bother to tell you that is? Katie chapter next time perhaps?


	32. If I Never Ever See You, Again

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent and a distinct lack of awesomeness!

Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which still makes me very upset but not as much as before).

**Authors Note **– It wasn't a cliffhanger, don't complain or I'll show you a proper cliffhanger, (roofhanger?), and then I'll go on holiday for three weeks!

Anyway, thanks to for the funniest review I think I've ever had, and to Ash and Martina for telling me, forcibly and loudly, at stupid o'clock in the morning how they wanted more CP and when they wanted it. Sorry you had to wait a little longer than a week guys, but that last chapter of PfP kinda took over (once I'd finished reading some of the awesome fics that got updated on here recently).

Anyway, another shortish chapter and as you've probably already seen, one that starts with yet another flashback…yeah I'm a tease; sue me (-:

Enjoy, and keep reading to the end, I might make it worth your while.

**Chapter 32 – If I Never Ever See You, Again.**

_3__rd__ August 2003 – Limassol Cyprus_

"For knowing that someone in this life, Loves with a passion called hate; and what you give is what you get.

If I never ever see you,

If I never ever see you, _see you, see you._

If I never ever see you, AGAIN!

And _what_ you GIVE is _what_ you GET…..dum der, duh du der der, dum der, duh du der DER!"

_The tunes thumped across the tiny bar we were sat in reverberating off the walls and mixing with the howling voices of me and my boys as we sang along. It was a curious mix of voices, Paul Weller and the boys sounding as good as ever and me, Whitey and the rest sounding fucking awful as we joined in with the lyrics and the bass line._

_Well I assumed we sounded pretty awful, to be honest I couldn't tell. I'm pretty sure my hearing had become severely damaged over the last couple of nights, it was like I was swimming in cold water with a live band strutting their stuff at the poolside. Either that or I was halfway to being absolutely, completely, monumentally, fucked up._

_Actually, it's probably both; too many nightclubs and too many drinks._

_As the final bars of Start! echoed into nothingness as the tune from the dated jukebox ended, we waited until another ancient classic that we'd fought over began. Within seconds some Euro-disco bollocks came over the tinny speakers and our table erupted with sounds of discontent._

_"Who the fuck put this shit on?" Whitey shouted loudly in the general direction of a group of young holidaymakers in the corner, all perfect teeth and tans and perfect designer fucking clothes._

_"Calm down Paul," I told him as he puffed himself up again, "remember where we are and who we are; no fucking fighting ok?"_

_I met his glare with one of my own and waited, it wasn't long before he calmed down and grinned._

_"Fucks sake Snowy, you're no fucking fun sometimes," he said, not in the slightest bit seriously, but making his point loudly none the less. "We could take out those pussies no problem. Muscles bought in a gym the lot of them, not one of them has seen any real work."_

_"What the fuck do you know about real work Whitey," McHale jeered from across the table, "you spend all of your down time lifting weights as well."_

_"Screw you Chunks, the only weight I _have_ to lift is when I go for a piss."_

_The table degenerated into cheerfully drunken banter as McHale and Whitey engaged in their usual 'who's got the biggest dick' debate. Since the airstrike Andrew 'Chunks' McHale had become a part of our little crowd, Whitey seemingly taking the youngster under his wing and insisting on dragging him along on our holiday. They'd fallen into the easy banter that the rest of us shared and they were currently demonstrating this to the entire bar._

_Before either of them decided that now was the time to prove the size of their manhoods, I glanced across at the prima donna's in the corner only to notice that they were quietly making their way to the outside part of the bar. I was relieved really, the boys and I were letting off some serious steam on this holiday and as Limassol is right next to the British Sovereign Military Base at Akrotiri, and I doubted that getting arrested by the local Red Caps for fighting in a Cypriot bar would go down well with the brass. In fact I could see Whitey and I spending the next ten years busted down and posted to some sweaty shithole in the back end of beyond with no chance of escape, let alone promotion for our trouble._

_That would just be the pinnacle of a fucked up day; and I'm not letting it happen, drunk or not!_

_To be perfectly honest, day four of our short break in Cyprus had been a bit of a mess from the very beginning. It started pretty badly for me when Whitey burst into my room and kicked me out of bed. It was a little after midday and I really didn't appreciate him disturbing my, much needed sack time, to announce that we were all going to the beach to go swimming. It was a bit ridiculous really; one, because we've spent the last few months cursing the sight and taste of sand, and two, the daft bastard couldn't actually swim, for some reason he hadn't explained he considered it unlucky. _

_What really was unlucky, for him at least, was tipping me out of bed after four hours sleep; our 'night on the town' turning into a 'late night on the town', turning into an 'early morning on the tiles', followed by 'we're back in the hotel and we can still get drinks – let's keep drinking' type session. _

_When I hit the floor, after he pulled the sheets from my bed with me in them, I was still pretty drunk and I wasn't looking forward to the hangover that was inevitably going to find its way into my life very soon. I'm sorry to say that my best mate took the full force of that, and not in a nice way._

_Eventually, after a hurried apology, a lot of cajoling, a huge amount of food and about three litres of water, I felt well enough to follow the idiots down to the tourist beaches to indulge in my favourite hobby. Unfortunately for me, to Whitely and the guys, 'swimming' basically involved lounging around on the beach topping up the tans they'd got in the desert, drinking from cans of disgustingly warm lager and occasionally, very occasionally as it happens, splashing about in the water like twats._

_I'd joined in of course, well they were my boys; but as I was still feeling the after effects of the nights drinking, I was trying to be sensible. We had been on tour for months, and strangely enough drinking opportunities in Basra were few and far between; during that time my alcohol tolerance level had quite obviously been dramatically lowered. Unlike my oppo's I sensibly declined the lager and stuck to the bottles of water that Chunks had brought along as well, hoping that at some point I'd feel human again._

_As the afternoon progressed I felt progressively better and I took the opportunity to take a decent swim, the lads lying crashed out on the beach under the shade of a convenient parasol. I'd plunged into the warm waters and submerged myself, allowing the usual feeling of peace to consume me utterly; the small coloured fish, that swam near the sandy bottom, the only things that could disturb my little world._

_It had been a rough tour out in Iraq, I reflected, but a good one. It was also likely to be my last with this bunch, well apart from Whitey that was. The two of us were transferring across to another Close Protection Unit, joining up with one that was deploying to Afghanistan in the next week or so. I was doing it for a chance at a promotion, using the opportunity to build myself up so I could get that extra stripe on my arm, Whitey was doing the same; my convincing him to stop fucking about and work with the system finally sinking in. His interest in getting his full Corporals stripes, and the pay that went with it, finally exceeding his need to prat about._

_In hindsight, signing up for this was fucking stupid really; taking on two back to back combat tours with barely a break in between them wasn't clever. But it was what I needed to do to further my career, and I guess it was also the reason Whitey was insisting that we party so hard while we were here._

_It is probably also the reason why I find myself with four pints and four shots of what looks suspiciously like tequila in front of me in the corner of a sticky tourist bar in Cyprus, with a group of squaddies beating the table in front of me screaming 'Drink, Drink, Drink' at the top of their voices much to the disgust of both the staff, the tourists and the natives._

_Grinning stupidly at the guys, I picked up the nearest pint and placed it to my lips, looking over the top at the braying crowd waiting for the moment to be right._

"_whoooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah"_

_They cheered in unison as I upended the pint, chugging as much of it down as I could in one go; probably spilling as much down my shirt as I poured down my throat. As I emptied the glass I slammed it upside down on the table and picked up a shot, tossing it back quickly and placing the now-empty glass on my head._

_"Get in Snowy! Nice one girl!" Whitey yelled, picking up one of the pints and chugging it down himself, tossing back the tequila shot when he too was done._

_The night got messier and messier, beer races turned into depth charging and depth charging inevitably led to puking up your lungs in the grotty toilets before the suggestion of hitting the clubs was proposed, seconded and carried unanimously by the entire gang. _

_My memory of the rest of the night was pretty sketchy, I've never been much of a drinker; I can hold my own but when you take it to the Olympic levels that Whitey and the boys seemed to be in training for, I simply couldn't keep up. Perhaps it's a lack of practice, perhaps it's a lack of body mass, but I simply can't drink as much as those goons can and pretty soon it started to show._

_I dimly remember the first and second clubs, all catering for the tourists; loud techno music and expensive bottled beer. I don't remember much about the third club or the fourth, though I do remember a cute blonde that caught my eye in one of the places we staggered into and, as tradition dictated, ended up getting thrown out of. My memories of the blonde were brought to a head the next 'morning' when I felt a sagging in the bed next to me and I realised I wasn't alone._

_Slowly and carefully, blinking in the painfully bright light I turned to see if I'd pulled a pig or a prize. What met my eyes almost made me jump out of the fucking bed._

_"Fucking hell Whitey, what the actual fuck?" I shouted, shoving him away from me as hard as I could. Paul actually fell out of the bed in surprise at my actions, and he hit the floor with a satisfying thump._

_"Ow, Jesus Campbell what the fuck was that for?" He asked, gingerly getting to his feet and swaying slightly where he stood, stark bollock naked. It's not like I haven't seen him wander around naked as the day he was born before, but I'd never woken up with him like that, and certainly never in my fucking bed._

_"What the fuck was that for? What the fuck are you doing in my _bed_ you twat, and why haven't you got any fucking clothes on?"_

_I was relieved to discover that I was still dressed in the clothes from last night, except for my shirt; slightly less relieved to discover that there was a bin next to me that was filled with what looked suspiciously like puke._

_"There's thanks for you," he said indignantly, pulling the sheet off the bed and wrapping it around his waist. "I carry you fucking home and you puke all over me, twice in fact, and now you have a go at me for sleeping in here while my gear dries on the balcony. Nice one Campbell, I fucking love you too!"_

"_I puked on you?" I asked through the hazing fog of my thumping head._

"_Twice," he confirmed nodding and holding his own head flopping down onto the edge of the bed._

"_You carried me home?"_

"_Yeah, and you're heavier than you look Snowy."_

"_Was I _that_ drunk?"_

_Whitey looked across the bed at me and blinked, tilting his head to one side. "Snowy mate, how much of last night do you remember?"_

"_Fuck all really," I told him as I racked my brain for the memories, "everything got a bit messy didn't it?"_

"_Babes I found you dancing on a fucking table threatening to do a strip tease to a greasy looking tourist. I tell you mate you were well and truly fucking wasted. Were you watching your drinks like I told you?"_

"_You think someone slipped me something?" I asked, sobering up suddenly and feeling my stomach clench at his implication._

"_Snowy, I've been drinking with you how many times? I've never, ever, seen you do anything like that; and I've never seen you that wasted ever. You scared the shit out of me buddy so I got you out of there as fast as I could and stayed with you just in case. I don't think I've seen anyone puke as much as you did either," he continued grinning at me. "it was like a scene from the fucking exorcist man!"_

"_I'm going to have to report this," I said as the realisation of what might have happened hit me. "I can't fail a drugs test because of this, that would end my career."_

"_We'll go up to the compound at Akrotiri later," he promised me. "Talk to the guys there, get you checked out; though if someone slipped you GHB something it might be out of your system by now."_

"_Yeah, but better safe than sorry eh?"_

"_Yeah," he said sadly. "Fucks sake Campbell you've got to look after yourself better than this you know. One day I might not be there to save you from your own stupidity."_

"_You planning on leaving me Paul? I thought you had my back!."_

"_I've always got your back Naomi, you know that."_

_I leaned across the bed and pulled him into an uncharacteristic hug, "I know you have mate, and you know I've got yours. Thanks for looking after me Paul, thanks for giving a shit."_

"_It's what we do bud," he said pushing me away; "I know you've done it for me before now, Musketeers?" he asked holding out his clenched fist to me._

"_Musketeers," I replied confidently, bumping my fist against his._

"_Sweet, now go empty that bin down the shitter and get yourself a shower Snowy; because you smell of something babe; and let me tell you, it ain't fucking roses."_

o+o+o

_Joanna Fosters Surgery, Islington, London - Earlier_

"_So, you and Paul were close Naomi?"_

"_We were inseparable Joanna, he was like the brother I never had."_

"_Interesting, were you an only child by any chance?"_

"_Yeah," I told her, "it was just me and my mum."_

"_So after she died you joined the Army and it was there you met Paul and became friends?"_

"_Yeah, sort of anyway. I wasn't looking for a friend, I went all through my basic training without getting really close to anyone. I can do friendly, but I don't need to have friends, I've never needed them in my life; but when Paul and I met we sort of clicked, did everything together after that. We even called ourselves the Musketeers. "I added with a wry smile at the memory. "We looked after each other, inside and out, you understand?"_

_Joanna nodded, her face thoughtful and sat back into her chair, staring at the ceiling. I relaxed into the comfortable place she had helped me create and allowed my mind to relax._

"_Do you want to have friends now?" Joanna asked me out of the blue._

"_I don't know," I replied thinking of JJ and Lara, Cook and Effy, Katie and Jenna, and the guys at Fitch manor that I seemed to be getting along with as well. "I have people I can be friendly with, I think that might be enough."_

"_Do you want to be friends with Emily?" she pressed, once again relentlessly honing in on my feelings for my charge._

"_I don't know," I told her, extending the courtesy of the truth to her once more when it would have been far simpler to lie. "I'm not sure what I want from Emily, but I guess friendship would be good."_

"_Do you think that she's your friend now?_

"_I don't know that either," I said. "I'm not sure what she is, or what she's trying to be. I think we could be friends though."_

"_Have you asked her?"_

"_Don't be stupid, there's no way I can ask her that, I barely even know her, besides she's my employer. It's my job to keep her safe."_

"_You keep returning to that tired old line Naomi, yet I think we've just established that it's just an excuse."_

_I sat in the chair and stared at the ceiling, there really wasn't anything that I could say to that._

"_I think you need to learn to trust your instincts better Naomi, you might find that people will surprise you, like Paul surprised you."_

"_Yeah, whatever…"_

o+o+o

_Emily's Flat, St John's Wood - Present Day_

I stared across at the stoney faced Emily Fitch who was looking at me with something that looked close to contempt and waited; waited for the fury that I knew was coming my way.

To my surprise, it didn't arrive. She just sat there, calmly sipping her drink and looking at me; her poker face in full effect.

"Say something," I said to her, wanting the silence that had fallen between us to be ended.

"I really don't know what to say Nomi," she replied, with just a hint of coldness in her voice; cold but not angry, not yet anyway.

"I knew this was a mistake," I said, snapping out the words and getting up out of the chair, "Fucking Joanna and her stupid therapy, I knew it wouldn't do any good."

I was held back by an outstretched foot as I went to walk around the coffee table; the bare toes scrunching into my thigh as she stopped me.

"Sit down Naomi, I said 'I don't know what to say', not 'get the fuck out of my house'."

"No, I think I should go; I think I've said enough for one night."

The foot changed position on my thigh and shoved me backwards towards the chair I'd just vacated, her brown eyes fixed on me as I stepped back.

"Sit Naomi!" she said, making me feel for a second like a disobedient puppy, I could feel my hackles raise at the tone in her voice.

"Please, just sit down and let me think about this for a second all right?" she continued in a much softer tone, her lips twisting into the barest hint of a smile. Mollified, my pulse slowing, I complied with the request and not the order.

We sat in silence for a while, Emily steeping her fingers as she stared at me. Looking for anything to do that would help me avoid her gaze I picked up my rapidly cooling drink and sipped at it; our eyes locking briefly every time I chanced a look in her direction.

"I don't understand you Naomi Campbell," she said finally, breaking the silence with her soft, low voice. "I thought I had a good handle on you and how you felt, but I didn't expect this."

"I'm sorry," I told her honestly, "I should never have opened my mouth, I think I got caught up in all this 'safe place' and 'therapy' bullshit. I forgot about who I am and what I do. I shouldn't have said what I did, it's not fair on you and it's not professional. I'll get JJ to swap me with Simon in the morning. You've met him, he'll be an excellent CPO for you."

She stared at me appraisingly, her fingers steepling once more. I'd seen her do this once before, I remembered, the image burned bright into my mind; it had been at the conference table at Fitch Industries as she weighed up the counter-offer that had been proposed by her opponents. She had sat in her chair exactly as she is now, performing the same gestures and looking at the other party in exactly the same way as she's looking at me now. It's no wonder that she's a demon negotiator; even I'm intimidated by the body language she's displaying, and I've been trained not to be concerned by such tricks from people on the other side of the table to me in an investigation.

I chanced another glance at her and watched as her brown eyes narrowed again reminding me of our first meeting; except this time they didn't harden into granite, they remained cool - yes, calculating - definitely, but not hard. It actually surprised me, I was expecting a lot worse.

"I think you should tell me why you just told me all that Naomi, before we make any decisions on the future."

I leaned back into my chair and sighed, spinning the empty mug uncomfortably in my fingers.

"I thought I'd explained that," I started, looking up and holding her glare. "Joanna told me it was something I needed to do in order to move on."

"I got that Naomi, I just don't understand why she asked you to do that?"

I've got no idea Emily, it all came up in our conversations about my past and she just latched onto it and wouldn't let it go. I don't know why she felt it was important."

"I know you don't know," she said slowly; "but if you did know, what would you say?"

"I'd say it's because she knew about how I felt about you before I ever mentioned it, she brought it up; snuck it into the conversation we were having about you being a package."

"A package!" Emily said a hint of, probably justified, indignation in her voice. "What the hell does that mean?"

"It's what people like you were referred to in the CPU Emily; don't get angry let me explain," I added seeing the flash in her eyes.

"I think you better had. Fast!"

"I'm sure you already know this Emily, I started quickly before she exploded. "I'm sure I've explained it to you in the past, but when I was in the Close Protection Units in the Army we never referred to the people we were assigned to in any other way. It's the way everyone does it, and it's the same at Close Protection, or at least I think it is."

"So why did you do that, why are you trying to do it now? Why do you want to see me as a 'package'?"

"Because you can't get close to people in my business Emily, the people you protect are just that; people you protect. They aren't your friends, they can't be your friends, they're just things that you have to keep safe. As soon as you stop thinking about them like that then you make mistakes, then people get hurt. Fucks sake I've lost enough of my friends to know that, that's what fucking started this in the first place; all the friends I've lost along the way."

"So it's easier not to think about people, that it is to be hurt by them; is that what you're saying?"

"I guess so,

"So I'm just a package to you?"

"Yes, no…I don't know Emily," I replied, flailing around for an answer that made sense to me. "You should be, but I can't think of you like that, that's the problem; that's what Joanna picked up on in a heartbeat. I have no idea how she knew but she just did."

"Knew what Naomi, I'm still not getting this."

"Knew that I actually find myself caring about you Emily, that I'm finding it harder and harder to stay aloof and professional around you; and every time you play your little games with me it makes it harder and harder still, and I don't know how to deal with it."

"Games?" she asked, her face scrunching up in what looked like genuine confusion. "What do you mean games?"

"All the little things you're doing Emily, insisting I call you by your first name, taking the piss in the hospital making out we're an item, holding my hand at dinner, calling me fucking Nomi all the time. I'm not here for your fun and games Emily and I'm no one's fucking experiment."

"Is that what you think?" she said standing up and allowing her empty cup to fall to the floor, her fists clenching at her sides. "A fucking experiment, is that what you really fucking think?" she raged, practically spitting at me.

"Well all that bullshit only started after you found out about Amy," I said standing up myself to face the fury of the pocket atom bomb that was glowing, red for danger, before me.

"What the fuck else am I supposed to think." I continued, getting my shots in whilst I could. "When a straight girl starts playing games like that, I tend to think that I'm being messed around."

"Straight girl! That's a pretty fucking arrogant thing to assume isn't it Naomi," she practically shouted at me. "Did it ever occur to you at any point in the last few days that I might just actually _like_ you?"

"Like me?" I shouted back, "You've spent most of the last few days being a bitch or playing games with me."

"I acted like a bitch _because_ I fucking like you Naomi, and it's _not_ a fucking game, it's _never_ been a fucking game. You say you like me, you say you've come to care about me; well I fucking like you _too_, I care about you, and _I_ don't know what to do about that either!"

She stood there practically panting at me, her chest heaving as she regained her composure after her little rant. We faced off, stuck in our own little Mexican standoff, our eyes locked together trying to communicate through the familiar fog of rage. Then, all of a sudden, Emily visibly relaxed and blew out a long breath before speaking again.

"I liked you from the moment you burst into my dad's study waving that toy gun around; I remember thinking how fucking hot you looked doing that, like some kind of female, blonde James Bond. I thought you were fucking gorgeous and dangerous and everything in between. and all I knew is that I wanted you, then it all came crashing down on me. How utterly futile my desires were."

She smiled sadly, her shoulder sagging slightly before she brightened again. "You looked positively primal when you took on Pieter, I felt positively sick when you put him down as easily as you did. I knew there and then that there was no way you'd even look at someone like me and I hated you for it, hated that I felt so much so quickly."

She reached out a hand towards me, stepping closer and gently running the back of her knuckles down my cheek.

"I was a bitch to you Naomi because I couldn't handle the fact that you were there. I couldn't handle the fact that I was that attracted to you and there was nothing I could do about it. I couldn't handle the fact that Dad decided to throw me and you together and that I'd probably have to see you every day feeling like that, feeling so fucking frustrated because I liked you and there'd be no way you liked me back in the same way."

As I stared into those dark brown eyes I saw the truth of her words, this wasn't a game for her, I saw the glimmerings of affection in her eyes, the development of feelings that I'd tried so hard to ignore before. Like a dam had opened in my mind, my brain replayed every look, every touch, every joke we had shared and the truth came rushing out; the truth that I had unconsciously squashed and forced into that little box with my own feelings. Emily hadn't just been being friendly recently, she'd been flirting with me, and albeit unconsciously, or consciously but in denial about it, I'd been flirting back

It hit me like a round from a Kalashnikov, hard and fast and heavy; I liked Emily Victoria Fitch, I cared for Emily Victoria Fitch, and apparently she liked and cared about me too.

Defeated, I let my arms fall to my sides and I slumped into the chair, putting my head into my hands and sighing before looking up at the red headed beauty that was stood right in front of me.

"Oh for fucks sake," I said, resignation in my voice. "Emily, what the fuck do we do now?"

Emily squatted in front of me and grabbed hold of my hands, twisting her fingers through mine and squeezing gently.

"I have no idea Naomi," she said, not inspiring confidence in me one iota, "I really have no idea at all."

.

.

.

**A/N** – Now _that_ is a cliffhanger - LOL

Actually it's not, not really; I've got better cliffhangers than that coming, besides you know you love them, they keep you coming back for more.

"Always leave them wanting more" I think Hypes once tweeted, words to write by.

So I hope you enjoyed that little bit of rambling nonsense, just a bit more background examination, a bit more therapy and a bit of Naomily, mostly though all filler and no thriller, though it's up to you, (TR), to work out which bits might be important later on, he he he...

So, until next time then…(packs bags and heads off for three weeks in the sun) (-;


	33. Complicated

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent and a distinct lack of awesomeness!

Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which still makes me very upset but not as much as before).

**Authors Note **– I've read the first chapter of Chasing Shadows, there is no authors note that can deal with that effectively enough. Go read it now, I get the feeling it's going to be stellar!

However, unfortunately I guess I won't be able to blow up Fitch Manor in a thermonuclear/dirty bomb/terrorist stylee any more. Hawke has beaten me to the whole blowing things up punch! Kudos to you Hawke (-;

Anyway, enough gushing; now for my bit of filler. This one's for my mate Stunty who's living in a tent doing great work helping out the poor souls in Christchurch NZ...proud of you mate, doing us Scousers proud!

**Chapter 33 – Complicated.**

"_I have no idea Naomi. I really have no idea at all."_

"That's not an answer Emily," I told her as I sat in her chair feeling the tight grip of her hands against mine, the rough plaster of her cast rubbing against the palm of my right hand; it's grainy coldness a brutal contrast to the soft warm fingers that clenched and relaxed as the terror of the situation fought to overcome me.

That's right, terror, big brave ex-Sergeant Naomi Campbell is terrified by little old Emily Fitch; terrified that we have an attraction to each other, terrified of what might happen now, terrified of what my future might hold.

"You're right Nomi, it's not much of an answer," she replied softly, lowering herself to the floor in front of me and sitting back onto her calves; her hands not leaving mine for a second, "but it's all I've got at the moment. You did kind of spring this on me you know? It's all a bit much to take in right now."

"Yeah, likewise," I replied, chucking lightly at the stupidity of the statement. Here was I, turning up at her flat all fired up to tell her how I felt about her, only to have the tables well and truly turned on me. One angry conversation and everything between us has changed, it's like the earth slipped sideways five inches during that 'row' and the planet on which we stand will never be the same again.

"Your mate Joanna really did a fucking number on me," I said shaking my head in disbelief.

"Yeah," Emily agreed, "she does that."

I sat back in my chair, slipping my fingers from Emily's and running them through my hair.

"We still need to work out what we're going to do Ems," I told her as she leaned forward, crossed her arms on my knee and placed her chin on them.

"I don't think we need to do anything Nomi, I really don't. I don't see why we have to go about behaving any differently than we have been doing."

I looked at her as she squatted there, tilting her head slightly in anticipation of my response, I didn't really have an answer for her, well not one that wasn't my usual one, the one Joanna had told me was just an excuse.

"Things _can_ be complicated Naomi, I meant what I said. But we can work them out, I'm sure of that."

Complicated, I'm pretty sure this is exactly what this situation is going to be. I made a note to discuss this with fucking Joanna tomorrow in my next session; thank her kindly for ruining what should have been my nice, peaceful life and my nice peaceful new job.

"Honestly Nomi, what will we have to do differently? We can act in the same way as we have been, we just need time to get to know one another properly. I promise I won't push you if you'll relax and let things happen."

Let things happen? I think I can actually do that; well I can do it if my one last major fear is dealt with.

"What if this is all in your head Emily," I asked her, voicing the thing that still won't let go of my heart. "What if this is all just due to what we've been through together? What if it's not really real, what if it's just some sort of rescuers complex thing?"

She rocked back on her heels and looked at me placing her hands onto my knees to balance herself.

"For fucks sake Naomi, can you please change that record? Did you not listen to a word I said?"

"Of course I did," I said defensively as the Fitch-fury looked close to coming back, "It's just..."

"This has nothing to do with what happened to us Nomi," she paused for a second and looked at me sharply. "Actually that's not true, it does have something to do with that. It has a lot to do with what's happened between us, but..."

I stared back at her, actually a little bit shocked. Here she was yelling at me for all she was worth about our situation not being affected by the things we had faced and now here she was changing tack yet again. Fuck me this girl blows hot and cold. I stared at her and waited, giving her the chance to prove me wrong, to show me that it wasn't all in her head; after a couple of seconds of holding my gaze she broke away, lowering her eyes and looking at the floor. I felt my heart lurch in my chest as she avoided my eyes and I was filled with the inescapable need to get the hell away from here; to escape, to run, to flee, to get away from the feelings that were rapidly consuming me

"Fine," I said, giving into my desires; pushing myself out of the chair and heading for the door, slipping past Emily who fell sideways onto the floor as I did so.

"Nomi?"

I ignored the questioning voice and headed to the doorway. "I'll get JJ to send someone over in the morning, usual rules apply. Do remember to make sure you know exactly who they are, and check with the office to confirm that before opening the door. Goodbye Miss Fitch."

I walked away from her and her doubts, knowing that I was probably walking away from my job as well. It was inevitable, but I was tired of being played, tired of being messed about. In a little under a week I'd had almost every emotion under the sun play through my system; every emotion but one that is. This time, however, the only emotions I had flooding through me were fear and regret. Regret that I'd taken the chance and ruined everything; fear because I honestly had no idea what the hell was going to happen to me after this.

I heard her call after me again as I opened the front door, heading for the lift and freedom. I didn't turn back, that familiar feeling of hurt leeching into my very bones. It had happened again, I allowed myself to get close to someone and I'd lost them, I'd allowed myself to be stupid once more and I was now suffering the pain. As the lift doors opened in front of me I practically threw myself through the doors, stabbing the ground floor button viciously as I leaned back against the cold glass of the mirrored walls that seem to be a staple feature of these tiny little lifts; tribute to an unnamed designers clever idea of how to make them feel less claustrophobic.

As I closed my eyes and pressed my head back, I heard the doors start to close; breathing out a sigh of relief as safety beckoned.

"What the fuck is going on Nomi?"

I heard the voice at the same time as I heard the clunk of the doors as they bounced open once more. I opened my eyes to see Emily stood with her arms out, preventing the doors from closing.

"I mean, what the hell? You just can't come here, drop bombshells like that and then run away without talking to me about it."

"I think you made your position clear Emily, it's fine."

"No it's not fine, fucking hell Naomi I never said a word."

I fixed her with a glare as the doors bounced again, wincing slightly as I saw the rubber bumper connect with her cast. If she felt it, she gave no indication, simply looking at me with those big brown eyes.

"You didn't have to say anything Emily, your actions spoke volumes."

"My what?" she practically shrieked, her eyes flashing with contained anger again.

"Your actions," I replied as calmly as I could, holding eye contact and lowering my voice to defuse the tension; just like they'd taught me in the Army.

"They told me everything I needed to know, "I continued. "You don't have to say anything Emily I…."

I didn't get any further, reacting instinctively as Emily flung herself at me, lowering my hips to give me a better centre of gravity for my defence; and raising my arms to ward off the blow.

The blow that never came.

Not to my face anyway, not in the way I expected.

With a grunt I found myself being shoved up against that cold glass, half expecting to hear a crack as my shoulders and head hit the mirror as Emily attacked me. For a stumpy little office girl she's surprisingly strong, and I found myself at a disadvantage almost immediately as her plaster cast pressed against my chest firmly pinning me back.

As I raised my arms to grab her, she completed her assault; her lips pressing against mine firmly. Not like the last time we kissed, not with the drunken passion that fuelled her in that dusty summerhouse, but with the passion fuelled by anger, and desire, and all that falls from the narrow tightrope between those extremes of emotion.

In my defence, I genuinely tried to fight her off, tried to push her away, well in my mind anyway. The sensible part of my brain that was screaming _'Danger Will Robinson, Danger'_ tried desperately to bring the rest of me into line. The rest of my brain, the animal part that had been caged for so long simply burst into life and pulled her to me, consuming her, devouring her; making her mine.

"Well really!"

The voice cut through the passion and we broke apart. As I looked over her head I saw that the lift doors had opened revealing the lobby of Emily's building, along with a mature looking woman and a bloke in a suit who were looking at us disapprovingly.

"and in public as well, disgraceful," the woman continued, pulling her jacket around her tightly in an overly dramatic expression of indignation.

"Disgraceful dear, quite correct. You," the man said blinking furiously, "are disgraceful young ladies."

I bristled at his comment and went to speak, only to find Emily twisting in my grip and stretching out an arm to the lift controls.

"Yeah," she said as she jabbed the button to her floor and the doors started to close, "well go _fuck_ yourselves then. Stuck up pricks."

The doors clunked closed hiding their horrified faces behind the matt grey steel and as the lift began to climb I couldn't help but let out a chuckle of amusement.

"What's so funny?" Emily said turning to face me and leaning back against the doors.

"Their faces," I said grinning at the situation. "I always knew you had a temper on you Miss Fitch. I'll have to watch out for that in future."

Emily stared at me stonily for a second before her face cracked up into a broad grin of her own; a grin that faltered when she met my eyes. I simply couldn't help myself, she looked so beautiful standing there grinning away at her dismissal of the old couple; I simply _had_ to kiss her. Taking two quick steps, and more importantly for the first time taking the initiative, I pushed her up against those grey metal doors and, with my hands wrapped in that bright red hair, I pulled her lips to mine as I pressed my body against hers.

For the second time in a few short minutes I allowed myself to be lost in the beautiful, sensual enigma that was Emily Fitch. In fact it was this that resulted in the injury that followed, both of us totally absorbed in each other and not realising that the lift had come to a standstill until the doors opened and we came tumbling out.

"Ow!" Emily exclaimed as she hit the floor, with me landing on top of her. Quickly I rolled off and sat up, checking her over as quickly as possible to make sure she was ok.

"Are you hurt? Where are you hurt?" I asked quickly as she sat up holding the back of her head.

"I'm fine Nomi, I just banged my head that's all. I'll be ok?"

"How many fingers am I holding up?" I asked her, holding up three fingers close together. Emily fixed me with an old fashioned look and climbed to her feet, holding out her hand.

"Three," she said as I allowed her to pull me to my feet. "I told you I'm fine, I've had worse knocks from Katie in my time, stop worrying."

"It's my job to worry," I told her almost automatically. "Though I appear to have another reason to worry apart from my job now," I added earning me a small, pleased, grin. "I think you should let me take a look at that though."

"Yes Sarge," she said grabbing my hand and leading me back to her flat, "whatever you say Sarge."

o+o+o

Thankfully the fall had resulted in little more than a small bump on the back of Emily's head; which had resulted in _me_ insisting that she put an ice pack on it. Rooting through her little kitchen I searched in vain for ice, the rack in her freezer empty. Being the well trained Sergeant that I was, I used my initiative and improvised.

"A bag of peas!" Emily said as I walked into the living room carrying my prize. "You seriously want me to put a bag on peas onto my head?"

"You have no ice Emily, I grabbed the only thing that would work. Where do you keep your cloths?"

"First drawer on the left, bottom drawer," she replied and I ducked back into the kitchen, retrieving a cloth and wrapping the bag of peas with it before handing it over.

"You owe me a bag of frozen peas Sergeant Campbell," she said with a grin as she placed the 'ice-pack' to the back of her head.

"I was doing you a favour Miss Fitch," I replied haughtily, "I saw the use by date, frozen or not they should have been thrown away months ago."

"Yeah well, I don't cook much."

"I can tell."

Emily smiled at me and leaned back onto the arm of the sofa, placing her head, and the bag of peas onto a cushion and kicking her feet out in front of her, pointing at one of the chairs with her toe. I took my cue and sat down, looking across at her, feeling like a rat in a trap once more.

"Fucking hell Naomi will you please relax, I'm fine, you didn't hurt me and it was a fucking accident ok, unlike my wrist that is."

"That's not why I'm tense," I told her, "and I had nothing to do with your wrist."

"I know…" she said smiling across at me, "…to both."

Her face fell serious for a second, the smile falling away as fast as it had arrived. "Why did you leave before Nomi," she asked, "why did you just get up and walk away?"

I sighed and sat back in the chair, taking the time to explain to her what had gone through my mind when she'd looked away from me. How I was convinced that my doubts had been proven, that she'd realised that she had a mild infatuation because of the situation and not to do with any real feelings that she might have had. Emily lay there watching me as I spoke, as I went on to explain that feeling of hurt and rejection and what it made me do. When finally I finished she eased herself up from the sofa and made her way over to my chair, placing her ice-pack down on the coffee table as she did so.

I couldn't help but close my eyes once more as she ran her fingers through my hair softly, allowing them to drift to the base of my neck before drifting away and…

"_Ow_, fuck…what the hell?"

I opened my eyes quickly to see a smirking Emily stood over me, her hand raised again as if to hit me once more, the back of my head still stinging slightly from where she'd cuffed me.

"That's for being a prick Campbell, and _that's_ for running away," she clipped me again causing me to duck in my chair.

"Jesus, ow; will you fuck off please?" I asked, as politely as circumstances would allow.

"Are you going to stop being a prick and listen to me then?"

I stared up into her eyes and nodded, drowning one again in those brown eyes that were looking at me in a way that made me feel wanted, made me feel special.

"I meant what I said before Nomi," she said, sitting, well perching, on the arm of my chair. "I wanted you from the first moment I saw you. Everything that has happened since _has_ had an effect though, but only a good one. I thought you were drop dead gorgeous at first, it was purely a looks thing. Then you beat up Pieter and, well, I'm kind of embarrassed to say that made it more of a lust thing after that."

She blushed slightly and looked away as she confessed that little secret and I couldn't help but grin at my own thoughts that had rattled through my own mind as her head had appeared around that seat those few days ago.

"Anyway, then came that drive home and the morning after when we were stuck here, and all the shit that followed with Dad and Katie. That was when I realised that you're more than a pretty face and a well toned body. You're smart, and kind and considerate; you're respectful and professional…to bloody professional for my liking actually. Most of all though, it felt like you gave a shit about me; not Emily Fitch - Sales Director of Fitch Industries, _me_, just little old Emily."

She ran her hand through my hair as I sat in silence, processing what she had said to me.

"That's not to say you haven't driven me fucking mental along the way though. You're stubborn, grouchy, closed off; you've fought me every step of the way to get here and you're still fighting me. What's more I know you're probably going to keep on fighting me, so let me say this ok? We can take this nice and slow, avoid the complications by just being who we are and acting how we were. I promise I won't push you, but if you want this; if you really _want_ the idea of us being together, you've got to meet me halfway and allow it happen."

"Allow it to happen how?"

"By just being Nomi, by just allowing _us_ to be. We can be employer and employee in public and friends in private like before, we just need to accept that there could be something more than friendship if we want there to be; we just need to take it slowly yeah?"

"Yeah," I said sighing as she stroked the back of my head. "I actually thought about this you know," I told her as I sat back in the chair, Emily leaning back to match my position, her shoulder leaning on the chair back, her position fairly precarious, her right hand reaching out to grip my left.

"Thought about what?" she asked squeezing my fingers gently.

"About us, about seeing if we could give this a go." I admitted.

"When, when did you think about this?"

"When I was swimming, after our run on Saturday."

I felt her fingers tighten against mine, squeezing hard as she clenched her hand and then released it.

"Saturday," she said stonily, "you thought about all this on Saturday?"

"Yes," I said squeezing her hand back gently. "I thought about what you said to me while we were running, well actually what you said to me when we were stood by that lake of yours."

"and?" she said, and I caught the tone of hurt and anger in that one word.

"and I wasn't sure, I was still nervous about it all; but I did think that I should let things happen and see how things went. Then things pretty much went to shit didn't they?" I added, trying to explain why I hadn't done anything. "Everything else came out, breakfast, your wrist, the hospital, shopping, dinner and then these fucking nightmares kicked in to cap everything off, all thanks to your brother and his love of war stories."

"Nothing's been easy for us has it Nomi?" Emily said after a long pause, finally relaxing next to me; her body slumping against the chair.

"Why would it be easy Ems? Nothing has ever been easy for me, and this thing, this 'us' it's full of problems."

"Like what?"

"Like everything, like who you are, like who I am. Like how your family is going to react if they find out about you deciding to get involved with your CPO. You're CPO who happens to be a fucking woman to boot."

Emily stopped the gentle stroking of my hair and stood up to stand in front of me. I thought I was in trouble again as she folded her arms in front of her; then, all of a sudden, she started to laugh.

o+o+o

The silence of the pool surrounded me once more as I cut through the water like a porpoise. A confused porpoise admittedly, a porpoise that had just had their entire world turned around once more; but a porpoise none the less.

There's something wonderful about a pool in the early hours of the morning, the overwhelming silence that is the night, being magnified, amplified even by the echoing stillness of the building, it's walls made magical by the rippling of the light from the surface of the water as I cut a smooth wake through it.

It was a little after 2 AM and I was down here because I couldn't sleep, not with nightmares tonight, far from it. Tonight my thoughts were filled with Emily Fitch and all that went with her, went with us.

Us...

I was a part of an 'us'...

I was a part of an 'us' with someone that is effectively my boss...

This can't be good can it? and if it isn't, why am I feeling so good about it?

Emily had plonked herself firmly into my lap after she finished laughing at me, wrapping her arms around my neck and placing a simple, soft kiss on my lips; before falling into the sniggers again.

"What?" I'd asked her, chucking involuntarily along with her as she shook gently against me. "What's so funny Miss Fitch?"

"You are, 'a woman to boot'," she'd replied leaning back, pulling on my neck as she did so, her plaster cast digging into me as her weight shifted back.

"You're fucking hilarious, you meant it didn't you? You actually think I'm straight."

"Well…" I'd started, only to be interrupted by another fit of the giggles from the woman on my lap.

"Oh that's priceless, seriously. No Naomi, I'm not straight and you don't have to worry about me telling my family. Mum already knows how I feel, she guessed on Friday. Also, I think James suspects, despite having the hots for you himself; and as for Dad and Katie, well Katie will be fine and I don't tell Dad anything because quite frankly he's a bigoted prick when it comes to me and people I date."

I'd just sat there, stunned at her frankness. I knew it all made sense, but it didn't fit with the image I had; no, the image I'd _created_ in my head of Emily Victoria Fitch. Perfect daughter, perfect businesswoman with plans for a perfect husband and perfect marriage and perfect fucking children.

"I'm gay Naomi," she continued staring me straight in the eyes so there could be no doubting the truth of her words. "I've known I was gay since I was at school; why the fuck did you think I had virtually no friends at Cheltenham Ladies, why do you think I became a counsellor at University, why did you think I needed to see Joanna?"

All of a sudden I had to take that all in, but the only thing that had run through my mind was Joanna Foster, she knew; Joanna fucking Foster knew about Emily and she pushed me into coming here and spilling my guts. Rationally or irrationally I felt angry at the softly spoken therapist, the one who'd set a trap for me and baited it with promises of doing me good.

"What's the matter Nomi?" Emily had asked, presumably feeling me stiffen underneath her.

"Fucking Joanna," I'd replied gruffly. "She fucking knew."

"Yeah," Emily had replied leaning into me and placing her head next to mine. "I'll have to remember to send her flowers or something as a thank you."

She had whispered it so softly into my ear it had sent a shiver down my spine, either that or it was the soft lips pressing against the sensitive skin at the top of my earlobe.

It was right then and there I knew that it was time to break this up, this wasn't taking things slowly, this wasn't what we'd talked about. It became more urgent as she began to lay light kisses along my jaw line and then down onto my neck, her right hand reaching up to cup my cheek.

"Emily…" I'd started to say as her fingers trailed lazily across my cheek.

"Shush Nomi," she'd whispered in reply, "Just shush."

So I had shushed and enjoyed the moment; finally though I'd got my way, managing to convince her that things were moving just a little too fast.

"Look Emily, you'll see me tomorrow morning." I'd told her as she'd protested my leaving as I pulled on my coat by the door.

"Yeah, but then you'll have your business head on and I won't be able to do this," she'd said, wrapping her arms around me and pulling me into a tight hug, standing on her tiptoes to kiss me once more.

"That's very true, Emily," I'd replied, "and it'll be back to Miss Fitch as well. No teasing and no playing when I'm working remember, you agreed."

"But you're _always_ working Naomi," she'd whined, pouting as she did so. I knew she was faking, somehow I just knew she was having me on. I'd simply grinned and flicked her nose.

"I'm keeping you safe Ems, you should be grateful, it's not just my job anymore."

"Oh I _am_ grateful Nomi, but I'd feel a _lot_ safer if you didn't keep leaving me alone like this."

"Goodnight Emily," I'd said firmly, leaning down and kissing her, just because I could.

"Goodnight Nomi," she'd replied opening the door; "see you in the morning."

The silence of the pool gave me the chance to try and reconstruct myself; as I swam length after length in those cold, dark waters I remapped my own world, rebuilt my tactics, worked out my new plans.

I don't really _like_ complicated.

I don't really _do_ complicated.

Complicated equals dangerous; complicated equals risky

But complicated also equals Emily Fitch; and Emily Fitch, right now, is a risk worth taking.

.

.

.

**A/N** – See I can do chapters without teasing endings, and put important bits of the story on chapters that aren't x0 or x5...numbers obsessed? Me? Not a chance.

See you all next week.


	34. Death of Me

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent and a distinct lack of awesomeness!

Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which still makes me very upset but not as much as before).

**Authors Note **– I know it's late, I'm sorry. I have three excuses that I can offer. 1. I'm not at all well right now, I seem to have caught the bug that's spreading around Twitter (-: 2. It's been my busiest week in work for months and I've barely had a lunch hour worth speaking of to type anything, and finally...

3. It's all LadyHawk1709's fault, she had to say that this story is now fluffy; and as my failure to update PfP regularly testifies, I'm not in the right frame of mind for fluffy. Swimming and guns will now not feature in this story as punishment (-:

Hope that you enjoy this chapter, sorry if the title startled you, all will become clear, (hopefully).

**Chapter 34 – Death of Me.**

"So, Naomi; how did things go yesterday?"

I stared at the woman opposite me who simply stared back, her look radiating confidence and calm.

"Why don't _you_ tell _me_?" I replied shortly.

"Because I'm not psychic Naomi, I'm just a good observer."

"So what's your famous observational talent telling you then Joanna?"

Yes it's childish, but from the moment I pulled up outside I'd felt a real annoyance at Joanna Foster and her fucking games. She'd played me totally yesterday, played me like a prize pillock and left me to deal with the outcome of her manipulations.

"Well," she said sitting back in her chair and steeping her fingers, reminding me vividly of Emily making the same motions last night in her flat.

"Well," she said again smiling, "I'd say that you were brave last night and did as I suggested, I think you got an answer you weren't expecting and for some reason I'd say you're a little pissed off at me."

I sat back in my chair, mimicking her motions deliberately, holding her eye contact and slipping into my interrogators attitude, my eyes cool and unyielding.

"What makes you think that any of that is true?" I asked.

"Because you're trying to hide behind that attitude of yours, and because you're behaving differently to yesterday; but mostly because you seem both more relaxed and more stressed at the same time. I may be wrong, but I'm not wrong often Naomi."

She looked at me and folded her arms, "so go on then," she said challengingly; "tell me I'm wrong."

"You're wrong Joanna, " I told her smoothly, "I have nothing to hide and no reason to hide anything from you. I'm stressed because I'm here; worrying about what kind of a head-fuck you're going to attempt today, and I'm relaxed because I'm trying to find my safe place because that's what you want me to do."

"Bullshit!" She announced calmly after a long silence fell between us, "I think we both know that's bullshit. Or at least _I_ know it is and I hope _you_ do, because if you don't then we're in real trouble with this therapy, because if you can delude yourself that much then we're further back than I thought we were."

We stared at each other, our silent gladiatorial contest continuing as the minutes ticked inexorably away; sliding from the future, to the present and finally into the past. Gone forever, never to be repeated, just one more moment of lost time, one more thing to regret.

"So are you going to talk to me today Naomi?" Joanna asked softly, "because I think you need to tell me why you're annoyed at me otherwise we might as well end these sessions now and I'll recommend you to someone else. I'm sure Jenna won't mind, as long as someone is helping you."

"You fucking played me," I snapped; the mention of Jenna Fitch's name finally bringing me to my senses. After all she had arranged for me to have these sessions, gone out of her way to make sure that I got help. Despite my anger it did feel like a betrayal of a friend; and I didn't need another betrayal on my conscience.

"I played you?" she said in surprise. "How so?"

"Emily, you knew all about Emily; about her being gay, about everything. You fucking set me up," I accused, "it wasn't about being brave or any shit like that, you just set me up."

I petered out as she regarded me from across the room, unable to express what I thought I knew.

"You're right and you're wrong Naomi," she replied calmly, using her voice in that rhythmic way that she had the day before. Consciously, I tensed myself against its hypnotic nature; watching as she smiled slightly as my body tensed.

"You're right that I knew about Emily, of course I did. Emily has been a patient, a student and a friend over the years. So yes, I knew that her reaction wouldn't have been as dramatic as you thought it might be. You're wrong, however to accuse me of setting you up; I did what I did because it was necessary. Your relationship with Emily was never far from your mind, and I do believe that we cannot work together to ease your nightmares until you clear up your current situation with her. Is it any clearer now, as a result of your discussion last night?"

"How did you know it happened last night?" I asked suspiciously. "I've been with Emily all day, I could have discussed it with her then."

"Because I believe you're not the kind of person to dwell on tasks like that Naomi. I believe that you're the sort of person that would have gone straight from here to speak to Emily. I guess you'll have to tell me if I'm wrong there as well."

"You know I can't do that," I replied honestly, resigned to the knowledge that I wasn't going to win this, giving up my anger as Emily had predicted I would.

"I do, so tell me Naomi, is your situation with Emily any clearer now?"

"I don't know," I replied, "I think it's just as complicated, but differently complicated now. Does that make sense?"

"Not really Naomi, so why don't you tell me about it, perhaps talking it through with someone will help you make it clear."

o+o+o

The working day had been anything but complicated if I'm honest, I'd driven over to Emily's, the big Chelsea Tractor making the drive through London's endless traffic jam almost pleasurable; well as pleasurable as it can be when you're riding a clutch and dealing with dickheads that have no idea how to drive. I'd insisted that she ride in the blacked out back of the Range Rover, out of sight of anyone that might be looking in.

"Naomi this is ridiculous," she'd told me as I ushered her into the back, "what's going to happen to me in the front of the car?"

"Anything," I'd replied, "and I'm not taking the chance, not with the streets this busy. We're on the clock Miss Fitch, my rules remember?" I'd added as she'd made to protest, effectively silencing her with the words.

The rest of the day had gone, from my point of view, extremely smoothly. Emily had been in meetings all day, meetings that either entailed me sitting at the back of a room; or more commonly waiting in her office, or sat with Bonnie waiting to see if I was needed. I had busied myself for a lot of the time reading through the files that the Ops team had sent me, threat assessments and a full background on the Khuddam ul-Islam organisation. It was hardly fascinating reading, but it verified my comments to Emily before and after the weekend; the threats against her and the family were still valid, there was still a credible threat and there was no reason for us to lower our defences, not for a second.

Despite all that the day was reassuringly boring, I even managed to head out onto the familiar streets of the City to find myself something to eat, my duties being taken over by a burly Scotsman assigned to Fitch Industries by JJ. It was actually nice to be free, the realisation that I'd hardly had any time to myself over the last week hitting me hard as the sunlight cracked down through the tall buildings and onto my exposed face.

After lunch I bought myself a pair of expensive sunglasses, only to find myself being teased for them on the journey home by a tired sounding Emily.

"I can't believe you bought a set of Aviators, what a cliché!" Emily had said, chuckling at the gold rimmed frames that I'd slipped on to drive in the late Spring sunshine.

"Shush you," I'd told her as I swung the car into the traffic and began the slow crawl to her flat, "they're comfortable and they suit me."

"They do," she'd conceded, sitting back and smiling at me through the rear view mirror, "it's just they scream 'bodyguard' at you, they'd only be funnier if they were mirrored."

I'd replied by simply turning up the radio and feigning interest in the meaningless jabberings of the DJ on Radio 1, as they played some puerile manufactured pop record; the lack of meaningful talent sucking at my soul. The musical torture continued until me made it to St John's Wood and I turned off the engine, making a mental note to get some albums downloaded onto my phone so I could at least plug it into the car and listen to something I would like.

I'd escorted Emily up the stairs and checked her flat before turning to leave.

"Do you, erm, do you want to go and get something to eat Nomi?" she'd almost spewed out as I'd made my excuses and was about to leave.

"I've got another appointment Emily, with Joanna that is, I can't hang around."

"Oh, right…of course I forgot," she'd replied, sounding deflated at my words, "it's just I was hoping we could…"

"I could come around later," I'd said sensing her disappointment. I knew she'd had a tough day and a faint pang of guilt passed through me causing me to speak without really thinking. "We could go out somewhere or something..."

"What, like a real date?" she'd replied, "you really are feeling brave."

"Like dinner Emily, like two people just going for something to eat," I'd responded choosing my words carefully; not wanting to make it a date, but not wanting to make it a casual dismissal either. This taking things slowly being more awkward that I'd considered it might be.

"That's an idea, do you want me to get Darren to drive me around to yours? I guess you'll want to shower and change."

"Absolutely not," I'd practically shouted at her, "if anyone is driving you around it's me or one of my team. Darren's a nice guy, but he isn't qualified to deal with anything if it happens, not without one of us there."

"I love it when you're all protective Nomi," Emily had said, sidling up next to me.

"Yeah, well it's my job isn't it Miss Fitch?" I'd replied with a smirk, getting a slap on the arm as Emily shrieked in protest.

"Look I'd better be going, I don't want to be late for my appointment, Dr Foster has got some explaining to do and I'm not going to make her life easy."

"I wouldn't try and fight her Naomi," Emily had said, standing on her tiptoes to place a light kiss on my lips, "she always wins you know, you'll give in once she hits you with her logic and her reasoning."

"That's as maybe," I'd managed to get out before she kissed me again, "But I've got to at least try; she played me Emily, and no fucker does that without some kind of reprisal."

"You're incorrigible," she'd said, wrapping her arms around me and smiling into the kiss, "you need to learn to play nicely Naomi Campbell."

"I don't know how to play nicely Emily Fitch, that's sort of how I am." I'd winked at her as I took a chance and leaned down to kiss her for a change; my mind still reeling a little at how easy this all was. If I'm honest, I'm still a little bit confused at how much more comfortable I felt with Emily than I ever had with Amy, and confused as to how it had happened in such a short period of time as well.

"Oh well, I guess I'll have to learn to deal with that won't I?" she said sighing melodramatically making me grin; "now go on, fuck off and give me a call when you're on your way. I'll treat us to dinner somewhere nice."

"We'll go Dutch," I told her as I pulled away and headed for the front door.

"Not this time Nomi," she'd said grabbing me and pushing me up against the door, her lips hovering mere millimetres from mine as she teetered on tiptoes. "We're off the clock Miss Campbell, no rules now remember? You're not allowed to give me orders when we're off the clock and in a safe place. So, as I was saying, I'll treat us to dinner at my favourite place and that's the end of the matter. I hope you like Italian."

"I'd prefer a curry," I'd told her as I slipped out of her grasp and slid through the open door, "but I guess Italian will have to do. I'll see you later then Ems, half eight all right?"

"Yeah, you will; and half eight is perfect, I'll ring up now and book us a table for nine. Dress smartly though babe it's a classy joint I'm taking you to."

"Oh, fucking hell," I complained as I stepped into the lift, barely registering the name change. "That means I'm going to have to go shopping again."

I heard the red-heads amused giggle clearly as the lift doors closed behind me.

o+o+o

"That all sounds very positive Naomi," Joanna said as I finished explaining exactly what had happened between myself and Emily. "That sounds like it's another hurdle behind you."

"I don't understand?"

"It's something that's been bothering you that you've now managed to put a handle on. You have a way of dealing with it, so it's going to be behind you and we can move onto something a little more pressing."

"Just like that?" I asked, a faint sneer entering my voice; yes I am still a little pissed off at her.

"Exactly, just like that. Well, only if you actually accept what you've agreed with Emily; only then you can tuck it away in your mind and stop it bothering you. Tell me that you haven't felt better today for not having to think about it all."

I couldn't do it, I really wanted to tell her that she was wrong, that she'd achieved nothing with her little master plan, but I couldn't, my day _had_ been easier. Emily had stopped the teasing and the playing and just got on with her day, until we had got back to her flat that was. Whether that was because she was just busy after her extended weekend or because she'd won with my capitulation last night, I don't know; nonetheless the day had been simple. We were totally professional in public and totally casual when not; one day down and things were looking good and I was feeling better, perhaps Joanna had a point.

"So, do you need to talk about this, or are you feeling comfortable enough to move onto something new?"

I glanced down at my watch, it was getting on for twenty past six and I needed to leave pretty soon if I had any chance of getting home, changing and getting to Emily's for half eight.

"Am I boring you Naomi?"

I glanced up to meet her amused look with a slightly sheepish one of my own. "Sorry Joanna, I was just…"

"Yes?"

"I was just checking the time, Emily and I are having dinner tonight."

Joanna raised an eyebrow and smiled at me, I simply sat and waited for her comment.

"Well it looks like you've grasped things with both hands Naomi, well done. I'm actually very proud of you, I knew you were brave enough to tackle this head on. Now with dinner in mind I don't think we should tackle anything heavy; I wouldn't want to ruin your first date together by sending you there all messed up…"

"It's not a date, not really; we're just having dinner together. We've agreed to take things slow, you know, see what happens; if anything."

Joanna smiled at me knowingly and nodded, "Right, well that's still a step forward for you Naomi so, I think for the rest of the session we should just do some relaxation techniques, perhaps a bit of visualisation work. That will set us up nicely for tomorrows session."

For the next half hour Joanna led me back to my 'safe place' and then through a series of breathing exercises and finally some weird mental image of me being surrounded in a golden ball of energy. I really don't hold much truck with that sort of thing, but by the time seven o'clock arrived and it was time to leave I was feeling pretty good.

"Until tomorrow Naomi, please give my best to Emily when you see her." Joanna said as I left.

"I will," I replied simply, "see you tomorrow.

o+o+o

I pushed my foot closer to the floor and the huge engine at the front of the Rover roared again as I eased her around the slow moving van in front of me and sped towards Emily's. All golden glows and relaxation had well and truly left me behind in the hurry to get home, grab a shower and get dressed. Four changes of my tiny wardrobe later I was wearing the first things I'd picked up, a smart pair of designer jeans that Lara had told me were "just perfect darling" and a top that Emily had chosen when we were in Bath. My contribution to the outfit was a pair of combat boots that the jeans tucked into nicely and a old looking battered M65 jacket thrown over the top.

A _designer_ battered M65 style jacket that is, a fucking expensive battered M65 style jacket; even I have standards, and when I'd saw it tucked away in the back of the store I'd called into on my way to my therapy session, I just knew I had to have it.

I'd even managed a chuckle at myself as I'd looked in the mirror on my wardrobe at the flat, with the jacket on I looked a bit of a mess, like a proper squaddie out on the piss; but when I took the jacket off I looked quite smart. Emily was going to have a fit but for some strange reason I was looking forward to seeing her reactions to my two looks.

It's strange that, I've never really given a shit about things like that before; this girl does strange things to me and I kind of like it.

What I didn't like was the sound of a siren and a set of flashing blue lights in my rear view mirror as I drove towards Emily's. I quickly checked my dashboard only to notice that I wasn't actually speeding; glancing in the mirror I saw the flashing of the headlights and pulled the Range Rover to the kerb wondering what the fuck was going on. To my relief the police car sped past me, heading off to whatever incident had prompted it to activate its 'blues and two's', leaving me happy in the knowledge that I wasn't going to be delayed any further. I was already going to be late, thanks to getting stuck as people rubber-necked a rear-ender by my old haunts off the M4 I really hated being late, punctuality being something that both my Mother and the army had drummed into me; being late equalled being rude in my mother's view of the world, and for all her liberal views rudeness wasn't something she accepted from anyone.

I knocked on the door, anxiously checking my watch. Eight thirty five and forty six seconds; even my heroics in navigating the back streets of London at high speed hadn't saved me, I was late and that fucking sucked.

"I'm sorry I'm late," I managed to get out as Emily finally cracked opened the door, our security checks complete. With a frown she closed the door again and I heard the rattle of the security chain as it opened properly and she beckoned me in.

"I'm really, really sor…"

I didn't get any further with my apology as my flustered brain finally took in her appearance, she looked positively stunning; even better than she had at Rob's 'soiree' and she looked fucking amazing then. The dark blue mini dress clinging to her athletic frame just perfectly, her make up just right and the heels she was wearing made her legs look long and powerful and just…yeah. 'Fuck yeah' in fact.

Basically it was hard not to dribble.

"You look great," I managed to say, trying to drag my brain back to its normal position in my body and away from the puddled mess by my feet. Emily smiled at my lame attempt at a compliment and looked me up and down.

"You look, very you," she replied eventually and I grinned wryly at her.

"Glad you think so, cost me a flaming fortune this outfit."

She didn't look convinced, but it had, the jacket had set me back over three hundred quid but it was well worth it; if only for the feeling of comfort it gave me.

"It's a Maharishi isn't it," she said shocking me somewhat; I'd have put good money on it being Katie, not Emily, that could spot a designer label at 100 meters.

"I think so," I replied carefully, not really remembering the label on the inside; just remembering it was some kind of famous name, and how much it had set me back.

"I'm sure it is, I love the stitching on the back; wonderful work. Anyway, shall we go? I'm starving."

I nodded and helped her on with her coat, opening the door carefully and checking the corridor before we left. "Where are we going Ems?" I asked her as we left the building, fumbling in my pockets for the car keys.

"You won't need them," she replied linking her arm through mine and pressing herself to my side. "We're only around the corner so I thought we'd walk."

She led me through the streets of St John's Wood, off towards the cricket ground and beyond to a small Italian restaurant that was tucked away down a side street, a single, unoccupied table and chair outside the only thing that made it in any way recognisable as a restaurant.

Emily confidently led me through the door and we were warmly greeted by a red cheeked man who insisted on hugging us both.

I handed over my jacket to be put away somewhere and inwardly smiled as I caught Emily staring at me, the rather revealing top she'd told me I'd look good in finally making an appearance.

"You'll like it here," Emily told me after we had been ushered to a small candlelit table at the back of the room, seated and ordered drinks. "this place is great, just like you. You look fucking amazing in that top, I knew you'd look good. Why did you hide it under that coat?"

"Because unless you missed it Ems, it's fucking freezing out there, I'm not going around half naked in April, not unless I'm somewhere sunny."

"Does that mean I've got to arrange a trip somewhere sunny to see you half naked again?" she said grinning at me cheekily and winking.

"So is the food any good here?" I asked trying to change the subject.

"The food is outstanding here, it's my favourite place to eat in London."

As good as your home cooking?" I asked as we were handed impressive looking leather bound menus by the waiter that had appeared with our drinks.

"Better," she said picking up her glass; "one thing I _can't_ fucking do is cook. To us? Whatever us is," she added raising her glass of wine in a toast.

"To us, whatever us is," I replied clinking my glass of sparkling water against hers; "oh, and I meant the food at Fitch Manor, that was pretty special."

Ems nearly spat her drink over me as she started trying to laugh, eventually breaking out into a cough as she choked back the liquid.

"What?" I said defensively, "the food there was fantastic. Best I've had in years anyway, and I _have_ eaten in some nice places before you try and make a ration packs and mess tins comment."

"No," Ems said finally bringing herself under control, "What did you call our place?"

"Fitch Manor, that's what Cook called it."

"We live at Larkhall House Nomi, even Dad isn't vain enough to call the place Fitch Manor; well not yet anyway."

"Oh, I didn't know," I said feeling a bit stupid. "With Cook calling it Fitch Manor and all I just assumed that's where you lived. My original documentation just said I was meeting at the headquarters of Fitch Industries, so..."

"Hey," Emily said reaching her good hand across the table and talking hold of mine. "I wasn't taking the piss Nomi, it was just funny to hear that's all. Fitch Manor eh? I fucking hope James never says that in front of Dad, that would be a fucking disaster, he'd probably think it was a great idea and try and change the name. The locals hate him for all the bits he's had built as it is."

I looked down at her hand, stretched out across the table to grip mine and then clenched my fingers as she tried to draw it back, holding her hand firmly in place.

"This is nice," I told her. "Weird, but nice."

"Why's it weird?"

"Because I've only known you for a week, because we've only spoken civilly together for a few days, but mostly because this _doesn't_ feel weird, you know?"

"This feels weird because it doesn't feel weird?" she asked, neatly proving that I'm an ignorant squaddie with no way with words.

"Yeah," I said weakly, running my thumb across her knuckles as I flipped open my menu with my other hand.

Well if it's any consolation Nomi, I feel a bit the same. It's a bit strange for me to be like this, I'm not usually so..."

"Forward, bossy, demanding?" I asked with a smile, concentrating on the menu for all I was worth.

"Nice, thank you Naomi _darling_," she replied a light little twist to her voice that expressed the fact that she recognised the playful teasing for what it was; yet one more difference between Emily and Amy.

"So Ems _darling_, what do you recommend here?" I asked cheerily as she took back her hand to open her own menu.

"Well I'd normally have the spaghetti, I know it's a bit sad but they make a proper bolognaise here and it's fantastic. But with this thing," she lifted her plaster cast and looked at it disgustedly, "it might be difficult to eat. I might just have the meatballs or the penne al'arrabiata that's good here I'm told."

"You should totally go for the penne," I said quickly, "It will save me a dilemma."

"What's that, Emily said taking another sip of her wine.

"Well that's mad hot isn't it, made with some seriously hot chilli peppers traditionally. You have that, it saves me deciding if I'm supposed to kiss you goodnight when I drop you off. I'm not going to kiss a girl with chilli on her lips, that could be painful."

"Meatballs it is then," Emily said staring at me with those big brown eyes. She has a trick I've noticed over the last few days, a trick she does with those eyes that just totally entraps me. It's nothing complicated, or even anything obvious, but I've started to notice it now and I seem to remember her doing it a lot over the last few days, since the helicopter ride in fact. She looks at me and blinks, just slowly enough to be noticeable and then looks away, just as if she has realised we've made eye contact.

Every time she does it I look away, but am immediately drawn back to her eyes once more, and every time I look I see her staring back at me; those brown eyes questioning, as if searching for answers in my own.

Tonight though, there's no such question; not really. She's not looking at me with questions, she's looking at me as if she knows all the answers now; or at least, she knows all of the answers that she wants to know for now. Tonight she's looking at me with affection, with pleasure, with a hint of something more. My natural reaction was to get up and walk away, leave before anything else happened, but where could I go? All my safety blankets had been removed with one swift attack outside Gereshk. Every time Amy had pushed our relationship I'd been able to retreat into my Army life, run back to tradition and run back to rules; running away to war to avoid the pressure.

Now I had no-where to run to, and no real desire to run either; and that scared the shit out of me.

"You ok Nomi?"

I let my eyes rise up from the spot on the table where they had fallen, unfocused, and met those brown eyes once more. I smiled reassuringly.

"I'm fine, just thinking that's all; sorry."

"It's ok you just sort of went away for a minute there."

I was faced with another flash, one of those mental trips that take you back to a time and a place that's so familiar that you can almost taste it. It was a memory of me and mum chatting over dinner one night; after I'd stopped being a prick, before she'd been diagnosed with cancer. She'd said almost exactly the same thing to me when I went on one of my little 'mental wanders' as Whitey used to call them.

"Yeah, I do that sometimes, just ignore me."

"I would never do that Naomi," she said, those brown eyes boring into me once more. "I don't think I could."

We simply stared into each other's eyes for what felt like hours, but was really only seconds. There were no words, I don't think we needed them, I certainly didn't; Emily's eyes told me everything I needed to know with just that single, momentary, look. That special, precious, moment was shattered seconds later by the arrival of the waiter to take our order and we didn't regain it for the rest of the night; as if both of us realised that it was a step too far for our first 'date' together.

Food came and went; Emily was right, I'd opted for her recommendation and the Bologna ragu was indeed something special, nothing like the watery stuff I'd eaten elsewhere. The next hour and a half passed in a heartbeat, lost in comfortable silences and pleasant conversations about nothing important.

The enigma that was Emily Fitch unravelled just a little over the pasta as she told tales of growing up in that huge house, about Katie and about her life at school.

"It was awful," she said as she tucked into her Tiramisu with obvious delight. "Katie was an absolute man eater which isn't easy at an all girls college."

Her eyes flashed prettily at the memory; she has absolutely lovely eyes I'd decided over dinner.

"She flirted with absolutely anyone she could, snuck out of school as well. I got detention for her when she got caught once."

"Why did you get detention?" I asked confused by the idea.

"She pretended she was me, one of the disadvantages of being a twin. I did it because she'd probably have been expelled if I told the truth, she was on her last warning for sneaking out."

"But you look nothing alike," I blurted out unthinkingly, "you're far prettier than she is."

"Thanks," Ems said blushing slightly and doing that thing with her eyes again.

"Must have been hard, being Katie's sister that is," I said to spare her blushes, asking the only question I could think of that wasn't the one I really wanted to ask; _'what's it like to be a twin'._

"Sometimes it is, it was back then because we were quite different and she couldn't accept that. School uniform didn't help, we were far too identical in that shit. That's why I dyed my hair pink when I got to University; I wanted to be different, needed to be different to her."

"does sound tough," I said, scooping up my sorbet and trying not to think of Emily in a school uniform.

"Yeah. She can be an utter bitch even now, and Dad fucking dotes on her as you've seen; it was great that you put her in her place though, in the conference room you know? I fucking loved that."

I didn't mention the impact that my little outburst had had on me, it didn't seem the right time to admit to that, instead I went with the safe option.

"Well it was nice to see her turn green when you paraded down those stairs in that dress of yours, jealousy so becomes her."

I winked at her and got a cheeky grin in reply, "I really wish I'd noticed her," she said dabbing her mouth delicately with her napkin. "I'd have loved to have seen her reaction."

"She was staring daggers right at you Ems, I'm surprised you didn't see her."

"I was only looking for one person, I was only really interested in how they looked when they saw me."

My memory flashed another picture at me, an image of her stood at the break in the stairs her eyes searching the room until they locked with mine, searching me out as I tried to make myself as inconspicuous as I could at the back of the party; showing me the smile she had given me as our eyes met.

"Me?" I asked incredulously, raising another snort from the woman opposite.

"Of course you, bloody hell Nomi you really _didn't_ get it did you? It really wasn't just denial."

I felt my cheeks blush a bit at that comment. Seriously, I spent the best part of my life without displaying emotions like this; and now I'm smiling and laughing and blushing. It's like Emily Fitch has cut through my bravado, sliced through my bullshit; like she'd killed off the old me and let some new Naomi Campbell out and into the world.

I'm really going to have to deal with the implications of that, perhaps that's a session for the pool tonight, or for Joanna tomorrow.

"You're cute when you blush," I heard causing my to blush even more. "See? Cute, you should do it more often."

I looked up again and fixed Emily with my best 'don't fuck with me' face on and replied.

"I don't blush Emily, I never have, it must just be warm in here. I'm having a hot flush."

Her laughter echoed around the tiny restaurant, and echoed around inside me as well.

o+o+o

One coffee later and we were back out into the night; Emily refusing, against all my protestations, to split the bill between us. There was a distinct chill in the air, despite it being near the end of April and the ground was wet, a shower having hit the city whilst we ate. Surprisingly Emily seemed to revel in the damp smell that filled the streets and skipped and danced under the orange streetlamps; flinging her arms around one and spinning wildly, singing happily. I merely leaned against a nearby wall, folding my arms to keep my hands warm against the cold evening breeze.

I watched as a slightly tipsy Emily went through her own version of 'Singin' in the Rain' jumping on and off the kerb dancing along happily. It wasn't until she went to round the corner that she noticed that I wasn't with her.

"What?" She asked, stopping suddenly sober in the middle of the street.

"Nothing, just watching someone make a fool of themselves that's all."

"Oh shush you, come and dance with me," she said holding out her arms to me. Casually I walked across to her, stretched out a hand and dragged her back onto the pavement and safety, away from the car that was approaching far too rapidly for my liking. Emily clumsily stumbled into me and wrapped her arms around my waist, snuggling her head into my chest leading me to believe that she wasn't nearly as drunk or as clumsy as she'd appeared.

"You're very sneaky Miss Fitch," I told her as I slipped my arms around her shoulders and held her tight.

"Yeah, I know," she replied, her voice muffled.

"Come on you, I think it's time I took you home."

"Yeah," she said sounding disappointed. I know the feeling, the evening seemed to have flown by; and despite having spent a good part of the day with her I really didn't want this to end.

The short walk to her flat was all too briefly over, and we found ourselves in the lift, Emily staring dreamily at the ceiling.

"What you thinking of?" I asked her, suddenly curious as to her look.

"Us, and this lift…some happy memories," she said grinning at me as it lurched to a halt and the doors opened.

"So this is me," she said standing by her door. "You want another coffee?"

"No," I replied, "I really need to sleep tonight, my boss has me picking her up stupidly early for a meeting at the crack of dawn!"

"Well you need to have a word with whoever she is, she sounds like a bitch!"

I smiled down at her as she grinned, obviously fishing for a compliment.

"Well she can be on occasions," I told her, "but the rest of the time she's mainly a mardy cow!"

"You should quit," she said ignoring my jibe, "you could come and work for me. I'd look after you."

"Hmmm," I replied; "tempting. But my boss needs me, she may be a mardy bugger but most of the time she's like a child; totally helpless without me keeping her safe, it wouldn't be right to just abandon her."

"Cheeky," she said slipping her hand into mine and squeezing; "you coming in?"

"I don't think that's wise Ems," I told her, squeezing her hand back, "I think I should be getting back to the apartment, I really do need an early night."

"Well I didn't eat the penne, do I get a kiss goodnight?"

Emily had pulled me closer to her as she spoke, wrapping her arms around me once more.

"If that's an order Miss Fitch," I replied, placing my hands on her hips, just because I could.

"It is Miss Campbell," she said; before reaching up and pressing her lips to mine, our mouths and tongues toying as the goodnight kiss became more passionate.

"If you don't go now I won't hold myself responsible," Emily said as we broke apart; both seeking a breath.

"Good point boss," I told her kissing her one last time.

"All kinds of wrong Nomi," Ems told me when we finally broke apart. "Time you went home."

"That's what I said Ems," I told her grabbing her hips and pulling her to me. "But I'm glad you had the meatballs."

"So am I," she told me gripping me back, "I like this you know?"

"Like what?" I asked her, kissing her gently and chastely on the lips

"Like us, whatever us is," she replied simply.

"Yeah, I like us too," I told her in response, "whatever us is."

"Goodnight Miss Campbell."

"Goodnight Miss Fitch."

Our final goodnight kiss was the kind stories would have been written about; and as I lost myself in her embrace I was proven right, this girl _has_ been the death of me, probably will _continue_ to be the death of me, and I will probably run into deaths cold embrace happily as long as Emily Fitch was by my side.


	35. Dead Mans Drop

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent and a distinct lack of awesomeness!

Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which still makes me very upset but not as much as before).

**Authors Note **– Woot, almost back on schedule. Hi to Lazyboo, who not only delivered an awesome new chapter of No Barrier, but has popped up to give me her thoughts on this little mess. Appreciate the thoughts Boo.

More filler, methinks and an excuse to tell "The Basement" 'fans' that the follow up, "The Kitchen' is on my blog.

Hope this one floats your boat…I'm really confused about it, but then after reading the latest chapters of ImagineAlex's _Back to Front_, how could anything I write compare?

**Chapter 35 – Dead Mans Drop**

The week following our 'date' went like a blur, Emily having meeting after meeting in preparation for the big arms expo in the States; and me tagging along behind like a puppy. I was doing my damndest to get my life back on track but between my job and my therapy sessions with Joanna I'd been struggling for time. Today though was different, today I'd managed to do some shopping and even a bit of flat hunting courtesy of a rare, and unwanted, day off.

_"I'm not taking a day off." _I'd said flatly when the subject was raised a day or so earlier.

_"You are Naomi, JJ has arranged cover and I'm making it happen."_

_"Are you sick of the sight of me already Miss Fitch?"_

_"JJ will you talk to her please?"_

_"Emily is right Naomi, you need a day off; two ideally. You haven't had a break since you started working for us and you've had several stressful situations to deal with during that time. I have to say that you must take a break; statistics show that you are 43% less effective in your role if you don't take regular breaks. We aren't the Army Naomi, but tomorrow you are not working, consider that an order."_

I'd slammed my hand down on the speakerphone at his words only to find it covered by a smaller one.

_"Naomi, it's a good thing babe; you really do need a break. You've done nearly two weeks straight and you've been going to see Joanna most nights. Take the day off, if it makes you feel any better I promise not to do anything silly because you're not around."_

It had made me feel better, yet I had woken up this morning with a continuing need to ring her or text her to make sure things were ok, it was only when I'd got back from a painful early morning run to a particularly terse voicemail message that I decided to do as she asked;

_'Nomi hun look, I'm happy that you're trying to look out for me, and whether it's personal or professional it doesn't matter. But I've got another meeting to go to and you're supposed to be chilling out, so please will you, for my sake, fucking relax? I'll call you later now go and swim, or shop or something productive. Stop worrying about me, I'm in good hands today and I'm not going to be leaving the office…ok? I promise I'll be fine with Richard. Look, I've got to go, I'll speak to you later babe; have a good day."_

So I had, I'd gone out and shopped, bought some work and casual wear, once again eating into my cash advance from Cook before wandering around some estate agents windows looking for somewhere to live.

Things hadn't gone well.

So with a mood born of the ridiculous nature of the flat prices in fucking London; and the stress about Emily being on her own gnawing away at me, I was not a happy bunny when I got to Joanna's that evening for my next session. Inevitably she knew it from the outset.

"Naomi, you seem to be wound up pretty tightly tonight, I think we should start by discussing what's wrong." she said as we sat over our now traditional herbal tea.

Five minutes into my rant about London and how expensive it was Joanna held up a hand.

"It's ok to be worried about Emily Naomi, you are allowed to say it."

It stopped me in my tracks, not because I was surprised she knew something about me without me actually saying it; even in the few short hours I'd spent with her I'd learnt that she really was that good. No, it was the abruptness of her statement that stopped me in my tracks, normally she began one of her 'make Naomi analyse herself' sessions with some kind of a question; not a statement like that.

"What?" I managed to stammer out. "I'm not, I'm not worried…she's in good hands today."

"Naomi, for the first time you put your phone on the table in front of you and you keep looking at it; especially when you mention having a day off. You're all wound up and it's not just because you've bought a few clothes and realised that London is actually quite an expensive place to live in."

"I'm that obvious am I?"

"Only to me, I'd imagine. But it is obvious to me that you're worried about something, and the logical assumption at the moment is that it's Emily. Have things not been going well between the two of you?"

I slumped back into my chair stretching out my feet and placing my newly bought trainers onto the glass table that was between us. "Everything is fine," I replied eventually, "I just don't like the fact that she's at work and I'm not around to keep an eye on her."

"Personally or professionally?" she asked, as usual pulling no punches with me.

"Probably a bit of both," I admitted, knowing that this was the best thing to do with her. "But mostly professionally right now."

"Would you care to elaborate on that Naomi," Joanna asked, leaning forwards suddenly acting less casual, moving into the 'therapist' role she sometimes played to let me know that we weren't just chatting anymore. I respected her for that, it gave me a chance to prepare, and ready my defences just in case. It didn't always work, but it was at least an opportunity.

"It's just something I feel Joanna, I've always had it. Amy, that's my ex," I explained, not remembering if I had mentioned her before or not, "she used to get angry that I wouldn't leave the Army, that I couldn't just abandon my boys."

"Yes Naomi, I believe you mentioned that the other day, you admitted that you sometimes used the Army to get away from Amy and her 'fucking clinginess' I think you called it."

I nodded, "that's right, but it's not everything. I used to get this feeling, like if I wasn't there with my boys that someone would get hurt, or that someone would die. If I was there then I could control it, you know? I could make sure that nothing went wrong."

There was a pause as Joanna looked across at me, then…

"and you're feeling that now, is that right?"

"Yeah," I admitted both to her and myself. "I'm feeling that now."

"Why?"

"Because," I answered, knowing that it wouldn't be enough. I paused for a second before continuing.

"Just _because_ Joanna, _because_ Emily's safety is my responsibility; _because_ it's my job to keep her alive and well and most of all safe. _Because_ it was my job to keep my boys alive and well and fucking safe and _because_ I fucked that up good and proper didn't I? Whitey died _because_ I took my eye off the ball, we got hit by the fucking Taliban in Gereshk _because_ I didn't recommend a flyover by the Apache's. Even my mum got ill _because_ I was being a fucking bitch to her for so long it brought her to her knees.

It's always _because_. Isn't it? I've fucked up so many times in my life and so many people have got hurt or died as a result, I don't want that to happen again. It's down to me to keep Emily safe; I don't want to get Emily killed _because_ I'm on a fucking jolly around London whilst she's in danger; especially not now."

"Naomi," Joanna said softly, "I really think we need to examine that a little; are you saying the deaths of all your friends was your fault, because of something you did or didn't do?"

"Well who else's fault could it have been?" I asked in reply. "I told you, it was my responsibility to keep them safe, if I'd have done my job properly we wouldn't have been attacked, they'd all be alive and I'd still be in the Army, not slumming it as a civvy."

"Naomi, tell me, do you believe in fate? In chance? In sheer bloody happenstance?"

"No Joanna I don't, I believe in people, I believe in training and I believe in doing things right first time, every time; and I didn't do that."

Joanna stared at me and smiled wryly, a familiar face to me by now, one that told me that it was time for us to 'work' again; when she steepled her fingers once more I knew we were going to start looking deeper into my thought process.

It wasn't something I was going to enjoy, I knew that.

"Ok Naomi," she started, her voice low and soft. "I think it's time for you to relax and properly examine these thoughts; I'd like you to breathe with me and listen to my voice, I'd like us to go back to your safe place and I'd like us to talk about the events you mentioned in a calm and relaxed way; can we do that?"

I sat up and took a deep, purging breath; exhaling hard to clear my body and mind just as she'd taught me, taking my feet from the table and placing them evenly on the floor. When I was ready I nodded at Joanna and she smiled indulgently, like a teacher with her worst student who had finally managed to get something right.

Not too many days ago I'd have wanted to punch her for that look, today I felt a weird sense of pride as a result of it.

"Good, now when you're ready Naomi close your eyes and listen to the sound of my voice…my voice will go with you…"

She took me through the now familiar set of steps and within moments I felt the warm comfort of my safe place, my own personal swimming pool that I now carried everywhere with me.

"How do you feel Naomi?" Joanna asked, the ritual almost complete.

"Relaxed," I replied thickly, still fascinated in the change in my voice that this state always brought.

"Excellent. Now, if you can, tell me about your mother."

"Mum was wonderful, but she was totally weird," I said launching into the Naomi Campbell abridged life story, it didn't exactly take long to tell her everything I wanted to; the good bits and the bad. "I treated her like shit for years," I finished, "messing her about, hating her, the whole nine yards. Finally I saw a bit of sense and grew up, I think it was too late though; the damage was done. Not long after that she died."

"How did she die Naomi, if it's not too painful for you to discuss?"

I shook my head, brushing away a tear with my sleeve. "Mum was diagnosed with lung cancer, we fought it for months before she finally slipped away."

"Were you with her when she died?" She asked, causing my heart to lurch and creating a strange tension that infiltrated my calm; the tightness seeming to work its way up from my chest to my throat and finally into my eyes, resulting in two tears to fall, one from each eye.

Feigning a casualness I really didn't feel I nodded. "Sort of," I replied finally, the lump in my throat making it difficult to talk. "I was there, but I fell asleep; mum died sometime during the night."

"What happened after that?"

"Well, once I'd made the arrangements for mums funeral I joined the Army; there wasn't much left for me after she went. I sold practically everything to try and pay off our debts and get some money to bury her decently. I didn't want to do college, and couldn't afford it if I did, there aren't many jobs for a barely educated young girl so as soon as I was done with the funeral I signed up, then it was basic training, Germany where I met Whitey, and then out to Iraq."

I heard Joanna sigh softly as I wiped my eyes once again. "Thank you for sharing that Naomi, do you feel strong enough to tell me about your friend 'Whitey' and how he died?"

For the second time in days I found myself spilling my guts to someone about Paul, how we met, how we were friends and finally how he died; this time, however, it was more controlled, more analytical than the emotional outburst that had occurred at Fitch Manor. Slowly and carefully, Joanna took me through every step of the operation; right up to the point where I got back to base and boxed up Whiteys personal effects and how I'd finally carried them back home to Gill. How she'd rejected my offer of help, how she'd rejected me.

We sat in silence for a few minutes after I finished, Joanna presumably allowing me time to compose myself and find my safe place once more.

"More tea Naomi?" she asked, finally getting up from her chair and breaking that silence.

"Yeah, that'd be great."

I closed my eyes once more and tried to centre myself, reaching out instinctively for that void that I was taught during my martial arts training, extending my 'safe place' out into that blissful silence where my mind empties itself and my brain switches off for a fleeting second.

I tried, and I failed.

My mind was still filled with thoughts of Mum and Paul, how their deaths had affected me how they had forged me into the person I now was. I couldn't break free from them, they gripped me, and held me, and forced me to think about them.

Finally I opened my eyes to find a steaming cup on the table in front of me, and a thoughtful Joanna Foster standing by the window looking out into the late Spring evening. I picked up the cup and blew on the liquid, inhaling the peppermint smell that reminded me of my mother and taking a careful sip.

"It seems you have some unresolved issues that we haven't yet examined Naomi," she said, not turning from the window. "I think you're holding back a lot of emotions and that they're affecting your ability to function."

"Is that your professional opinion?" I asked smarting a little from that hidden accusation that I wasn't functioning properly.

"Naomi, if you want my professional assessment of you, then it's that you're the sort of person that suppresses things, you push things, like emotions, deep down inside you until they become so big you can't handle them," she said suddenly turning and walking across the room; placing her hands onto the back of her chair.

"Can I ask you something Naomi? Did you ever find time to grieve for the people you lost?"

"Of course I did," I snapped back, half offended, half wondering what kind of nonsense she was spouting now.

"How did you do that?"

"I just, did.." I replied, spluttering a little as my mind went blank.

"Exactly," Joanna replied to my flailing, "I'm not sure you did Naomi, I'm not sure you really allowed yourself to grieve. From what you told me earlier you were busy sorting everything out after you lost your mother to really grieve; and you had the same problem with Paul when you lost him. He was your best friend and you never got to say goodbye to him, these are all unresolved issues for you."

"No, that's not the case." I told her firmly. "It's fine, I came to terms with those things a long time ago."

"Then why do you still blame yourself for their deaths Naomi?" she asked, drilling into me relentlessly. "You can't have come to terms with things if you blame yourself, because none of this is your fault and somewhere in that brain of yours you know it."

"Paul died on my watch, Paul died because he took my place Joanna, I shouldn't have let him do that."

"No, perhaps you shouldn't Naomi, but you did. If you hadn't have let him, perhaps the sniper would have shot you, perhaps they would have shot Paul anyway, or perhaps they wouldn't have shot at all. You'll never know, but none of that means that it was your fault. From what you told me, Paul made that decision for himself; perhaps, in effect, it was _his_ fault."

"It wasn't Pauls fault Joanna, it was mine, I made the mistake."

"What mistake was that Naomi?" She asked softly, with a voice I knew was supposed to be making some kind of point.

"I should have exited the truck first, it was my turn. He tricked me to get in front of me and then I let him go first, it was my mistake." I said slowly, as if I was trying to explain it to an idiot, exactly as I'd explained it during the after mission debrief, the one that had caused me to miss Whitey's homecoming, miss his funeral.

"Was it your job to exit first Naomi," Joanna asked causing my brain to take a little free fall. "I mean as Sergeant did you always leave first?"

"No," I told her wondering where this was going. "It was my turn to go first."

"How so?"

"Does it matter?" I asked, sick of this conversation and wishing I could be at home, or with Emily or in fact anywhere but here.

"Indulge me Naomi, please. This is something that is important to you and I need to understand it if I'm going to help you."

I sighed and finished off my drink, sitting back and putting my feet back on her table, a tiny sign of rebellion if you like but one that I felt necessary. Joanna smiled indulgently and waited.

"Ok, basically we took it in turns to do the dead man's drop..."

"I'm sorry?" Joanna interrupted, "dead mans what?"

"Drop," I clarified. "First person out the back of the last vehicle in a convoy, we called it the dead mans drop because as soon as you dropped to the ground someone might drop you...kill you that is. It's probably as dangerous as being the driver of the lead vehicle."

"I see," she said sitting back and staring at me. "So this trip it was your turn to go first?"

"Yeah, Whitey and I always did it, we'd been doing it like that since Iraq, if we were ever in the rearmost bus that is, only time it ever mattered. This was our first trip at the back in ages, the last time was about a month before, we were shuttling some business types around for the Embassy brass."

I smiled at the memory, "it was funny as fuck that trip, I stepped on a rock as I got out and went flying; Captain McClair had to haul me to my feet. I fuck near broke my ankle, swelled up as well when I got my boot off. Do you know how hard it is to get an ice pack on a forward base in Afghanistan?"

"So that was the last time you were doing this 'dead mans drop'?" she asked, "before the time that Paul was shot that is."

"Yeah, they gave me so much stick for it, and it was my shitty luck that the Captain was in the bus with us to see me make a twat of myself."

"So what exactly happened then Naomi?" Joanna asked laughing along with me.

"Well, it wasn't anything too complicated, the convoy pulled up and we got the message to decamp. I opened the back flap and dropped down; before I could bring my weapon up I was on my back. I'd landed on a rock and it caused me to fall over. I had to be put in the back of the bus and driven back to camp like a loser. It was pretty embarrassing at the time, but I was ok to work next day and we just laughed it off."

"So you nearly broke your ankle doing this 'dead mans drop' and you all laughed about it afterwards?"

"That's pretty much the size of it," I said, smiling away as I thought of the abuse I'd took from Whitey the next day when he saw me hobbling over to him pretending I wasn't hurt. He should have sent me on my way, but we had a big patrol to do and he knew why I was there, why I was always there.

"Naomi, I'm going to go and make us both a nice fresh cup of tea. Whilst I'm gone what I'd like you to do is think about that last patrol, and that story you've just told me." She stood up and leaned down to pick up my cup, patting me on the knee as she did so. With that brief gesture she was gone, leaving me sat in my chair confused, sifting through my memories for whatever it was she wanted me to find.

I was still sitting there when she arrived back, handing me the steaming drink and sitting down, looking at me expectantly with a small smile on her lips.

I stared back and shrugged my shoulders at her, feeling a little glow as that knowing smile slipped from her lips. The satisfaction was short lived, however, when she gave me a look of abject disappointment.

"Do I really have to spell this out for you Naomi? I was hoping that you would have worked it out for yourself given a bit of time."

"Worked what our Joanna?" I asked her, covered in confusion.

"You say it was your fault that Whitey was killed, correct?"

"Yes."

"And it was your fault because you let him do this 'dead mans drop' knowing it was your turn, despite the fact that he tricked to get you out of his way so he could go first, am I right about that?"

"That's what I said," I told her frustrated at the whole question-clarification thing she was doing.

"and it was your turn because the last time you were in the rear-most vehicle, Whitey went first, correct."

"Yes, that's right" I said shortly.

"No, it isn't" she replied, and the world as I knew it came crashing down around my ears.

o+o+o

I sat in the Range Rover, thumbing through the message pad on my phone. I'd left from Joanna's in a state of numb shock, driving away on virtual autopilot; no sense of direction, no idea where I was going. I drove around the streets of London's outskirts weaving my way in and out of the parked cars and the light traffic, rush hour long behind me and tried to process what it was that had just happened.

I was wrong, I'd been wrong all this time, it wasn't my fault; but yet it still was, it had to be.

What I really needed was a pool; what I needed was to immerse myself in cool water and swim. Swim and swim and swim; swim until my head was clear, swim until all the conflicting thoughts in my head made sense. The trouble was, I didn't want a pool right then, I wanted something else. Something else to lose myself in, and I only realised it when the autopilot I was running on caused me to pull up in an all too familiar street and stare up at an all too familiar window.

My thumbs crawled across the keyboard typing out the message on the tiny, unfamiliar, touch screen keyboard.

'_Hi, its Naomi RU free to talk?'_

Within seconds the ring of my phone shook me out of my stupor; some kind of withheld number, the screen flashing 'blocked'. I took a deep breath and tried to compose myself, try to be a professional.

"Close Protection, Naomi Campbell speaking." I said in the best approximation of that horrible telephone voice I'd created

"Are you ok Nomi? What's the matter?"

I breathed a slight sigh of relief at Emily's familiar voice; not wanting to worry her, I tried to play cool.

"I'm fine Emily; I just thought if you were free, it'd be nice to have a chat."

"Did you miss me that much today Nomi?" Emily said with the hint of a joke in her voice.

"Well of course I did," I replied, smiling despite myself, "I've spent the whole day worrying about you."

"I'd laugh if I didn't think that wasn't true Naomi, so come on what's up?"

"Nothings up Ems, like I say I just wanted a chat."

She called me on that line of crap almost immediately.

"Fuck off Nomi, I may not know you _that_ well yet, but I know you well enough to know you're not the clingy girlfriend type. Plus you've never texted me before and you've never initiated a talk like this, ever. So it makes me think that something is up and I want to know what."

I didn't hear much of what she said after that first sentence, didn't hear anything after she used the 'G' word in fact; her voice tuning out to the kind of incomprehensible drawl that the school teacher had in Peanuts, shouting away at Charlie Brown. It's not that I wasn't ready to hear her use it, it's not like we hadn't discussed being an 'us' in some depth over the last couple of days. It just seemed strange to hear her say it to me; good, but strange.

"Nomi?"

"Yeah?"

"Where did you go, are you ok?"

I sighed again at the repetition of her question, prepared myself to tell the truth. I wasn't fine, I wasn't even close to fine. My world had spun around me so much, it had left me feeling like a rag doll in a washing machine.

"I'm fine," I said, bottling it again and kicking myself for doing so. I let the cowardly part of my brain tell me that I was protecting her, lying for her own good. I knew it wasn't true though, I was actually hiding away, protecting myself. "Joanna told me that I had a bit of a breakthrough in today's session."

"Where are you Nomi?"

"Outside," I admitted looking up at the window. Within moments I saw her appear, her red hair standing out as she looked up and down the street. "Don't stand in the window please Emily, we've talked about that."

"Get up here Naomi," she said, vanishing from sight, but not until she had gestured towards the car, waving me up. "Come on up or I'm coming down to see you; if you've had a breakthrough and you want to talk about it I'd rather we did it face to face babe."

I opened the door to the Range Rover and stepped out into the street, grabbing the keys from the ignition and my bag from the passenger seat one handed, cradling the phone on my shoulder as I attempted to multi-task. A few, agonisingly long, minutes later I was knocking on the door to Emily's flat and reacting instinctively as it was flung open.

"Emily, door rules, remember?" I scolded as she stood in front of me, eyes wide and bright.

"Fuck door rules," she replied, grabbing me by the arm and pulling me inside; she wrapped her arms around me and kicked the door with her heel. I heard it slam closed as she squeezed the life out of me.

"Missed you today," she told me. "I missed you nagging me about everything. That Richard guy isn't nearly as intense as you."

"That's not making me feel good about having a day off Ems," I told her, wondering who the fuck Richard actually was, and if she meant I was too intense, or he hadn't been doing his job properly.

"Well it should," she replied primly, leaning up on her tip toes and softly kissing me on the lips. "Cup of tea?"

"I'm all tea'd out Ems," I told her truthfully. "A glass of water would be good though."

"Go and sit down then babes, I'll get us a drink."

I wandered into her living room, absently drawing the curtains to her exposed window as I did so. As I glanced out over the London skyline I heard her call out from the tiny kitchen.

"So how was your day off Nomi? Did you at least have some fun today?"

"I went for a run and then after you bollocked me for checking up on you I went out shopping." I shouted back.

"You deserved it," she yelled back a laugh in her voice. "Did you buy anything nice?"

"Got some more clothes, thought it was past time to rebuild my wardrobe a bit."

"I wish I could have been there," she said reappearing at the door with a glass of wine and my glass of water. "I could have helped you pick out something pretty again. I really hope you bought something a bit nicer than sweats and gym gear this time."

"I got some nice stuff, mostly for work though," I replied taking the glass and sitting down on the sofa. To my surprise Emily sat down next to me, curled her feet under herself and leaned against my shoulder.

"That's good, I like you in your work gear too. It's not as good as your running gear, but sometimes it's good."

I felt the smile hit my lips at her attempts at flirting, or what I thought were her attempts at flirting. Ems took a long sip of her wine and sighed contentedly.

"Tough day again Ems?"

"They're all tough Nomi, they are at the moment anyway. I'm still having to try and organise everything for the Expo."

"I thought Katie was supposed to be the marketing type person, doing all the PR and that." I asked, wondering what the fuck her twin had been doing, a thought that had been going through my head all week.

"She is, but she's only really interested in the pretty bits, the look of the stand and organising the parties and approving the brochures and all that. She's never been bothered to get involved in the real hard work, the getting to meet the important people, the actual selling side of these fucking events." She drained her glass and dropped it carefully to the floor. "The bits that actually pay for all that shit. No, she can't ever get involved in that, that's always down to Emily, because 'Emily's really good at that stuff'."

I put my glass onto the side table next to me and slipped an arm around her shoulder giving her a gentle squeeze. I'm not really a very good hugger, I've always felt uncomfortable giving and receiving them. However, one thing I have learnt in this, admittedly short, complicated, 'relationship' that we have, is that a stressed Emily is bad, and one easy way to de-stress her is a quick hug.

"Thanks babe," she said as she snuggled, impossibly closer, into my side.

"For what?"

"For this," she said slipping an arm around my waist. "It's nice." We sat together for a while, barely speaking, exchanging a few pleasantries about the day, my shopping trip and my flat hunt. I could feel myself relaxing as we just shared the moment; I could feel the tension ebbing away.

Evidently Emily could too, and it wasn't before long that she asked the fatal question.

"So, you mentioned a breakthrough Nomi, do you want to talk about it?"

I felt the tension return to my shoulders, my body stiffening slightly as it was flung back into the emotional turmoil.

"It's ok if you don't babe, but I'm here if you do."

"It wasn't my fault Ems."

"What wasn't your fault Nomi?" she asked twisting her head to look up at me.

"Paul." I answered simply staring down into those dark, lovely eyes that regarded me with such honesty.

"Tell me about it?"

"Yeah, ok. I think I can do that; for you."

"Good."

.

.

.

**A/N** See you next week peeps?

Oh and have a great holiday Hawke (-:


	36. Personal and Professional

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent and a distinct lack of awesomeness!

Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which still makes me very upset but not as much as before).

**Authors Note **– and here we are again, wow either I don't post on schedule or these weeks keep getting shorted (-: (Yeah I know it's the former and not the latter, though as Spring is arriving the days do feel a bit longer).

Anyways, Skins has finished and I can't help but breathe a sigh of relief and get back to my favourite set of characters; all of them!

Enjoy this chapter, one more to go and we're off to America, hope those of you that need them have got your passports sorted, if not this is nearly your last chance!

Hope you enjoy this one, if ImagineAlex hasn't fried your brains as much as she's fried mine recently! (BTW if you're not reading Back to Front then you're either very late or very sad...be the former, not the latter, and get over there and prepare to be wowed, and I mean wowed!)

**Chapter 36 – Personal and Professional**

April left us in a blur of a lot more meetings and a lot less 'dates'. Emily and I fell into what was actually quite an easy pattern, the only 'trouble' was, that despite the fact that we saw each other every day, we didn't have time to 'see' each other. With her busy schedule and my sessions with Joanna we never really had any time 'together'. Still this isn't a bad thing really, we had been pretty intense in a very short period of time and I think we both knew it had to cool down.

It also wasn't a bad thing because I had a of things to think about, an awful lot of things to think about.

The evening of my epiphany had resulted in me sitting on Emily's sofa wrapped up in her arms spilling my guts to her about what I'd discovered. She hadn't said much, just nodded and squeezed and patted and kissed my head as we went along the memory path that I'd finally broken through.

It was a strange realisation; that I hadn't got Paul killed, that it wasn't my actions in letting him take _my_ turn that resulted in that snipers bullet ending his life. The thing was, despite the realisation it wasn't getting any easier; his accusing face reappearing in my dreams that night.

"_It won't happen overnight Naomi,"_ Joanna had told me in my next session; the one that took place the day after, the day after I woke up screaming on Emily's couch, a blanket pulled over me. _"The brain is a funny thing, you've spent all this time blaming yourself, believing your memory of what happened was the truth. That belief has shaped your life for the last few years and it won't just go away like that._

She was right as well, it hadn't; and neither had the guilt over everyone else, my nights being haunted by the nightmares once more, the same old faces, the same old accusations; the same old guilt.

Thinking about things seemed to be making them worse, and I'd been thinking about things a lot.

Still, I was making progress according to Joanna, whatever progress meant. From what I could tell progress meant a barrage of sleepless nights and tired days.

o+o+o

May pretty much brought more of the same, more therapy, more nightmares and less Emily; personally that was. We still were glued together professionally; and that was just how I wanted it. I wanted to make sure she was safe more than ever now, and I had a real, completely justifiable, reason for doing so.

"Naomi," Rob had said to me one day as I stood outside the boardroom waiting for Emily's meeting to finish. "Can I have a quick word with you, it's about Emily and it's important."

I have to admit to my heart racing like mad as I nodded at the CPO that had accompanied him to presumably take my place. Emily hadn't told Rob about me and her, and I wondered for a second if somehow he'd discovered her dirty little secret; AKA, me.

"Take a look at these," he said tossing a stack of papers in front of me as I walked up to his desk. Rob turned his back on me as I picked them up. He stood looking out of the window at the City skyline, hands twitching behind his back as I leafed through the documents.

"Have you told anyone about these?" I asked putting down the mail that was addressed to him and Emily.

"Not a soul, not even Emily, James recommended someone checking through our mail before it arrives just in case, well just in case this sort of thing happened. I have to admit this is just some of what we've received; I had the rest boxed up and put away, it's been arriving for ages."

I could have strangled him with my bare hands right there and then. I had, in my fingers, some of the most worrying hate mail I'd ever seen. Not one member of the family had been excluded from the bile, not even Jenna; but they'd all been directed at Rob or Emily. Detailed descriptions of what would happen to them or their family if they didn't stop trading with 'the enemies of Islam'.

"You need to report these letters to the police Rob, you can't just hide them, they're evidence."

"They know Naomi, they just don't seem very interested in it all right now."

"But after that attack on Miss Fitch..."

"They believe it was a one off and that the individuals concerned have gone to ground now that you people have been employed. They think this is all copycat stuff." He turned from the window to look at me and grimaced, his face twisting as he fought back a comment. Finally he got himself under control.

"The police are a waste of time Naomi, that's why I'm telling you. I've called your boss over this morning to discuss things, but I wanted to let you know first. How serious do you think this is?"

"Serious Rob, serious enough for me to be worried about Miss Fitch's safety, and that of all of you," I added quickly, hoping that he hadn't spotted my slip. "The guys at the office ran a threat assessment the other day and the opinion is that that a credible threat exists still. This adds fuel to that fire, this scares me a little bit more with those photographs that arrived the other week."

"What about this weekend?" Rob asked staring at me as if I would have all the answers for him. "Do you think this will have an effect on Jenna's little family gathering?"

"I don't know Rob," I replied truthfully. "I really don't know."

o+o+o

"Well; I think, with some extra, added precautions, there's not a problem having you all at the house Mr Fitch." JJ said softly as he placed down the letters on the conference table. "I think we just need to be a little more vigilant and perhaps put a few more people around, alert the police, things like that. This shouldn't be any reason for your family not to get together."

We were sat in the conference room, my request to Rob to discuss this with his daughter finally being accepted. Emily was fidgeting in a seat next to her father looking uncomfortably at the letters that JJ had put down.

"What about the photos from the last time LT," I asked, "they were taken pretty close to the grounds. Did the police find anything useful there?"

"They didn't Sarge, and they think, like we do, that if they had wanted Emily or Jenna dead they would have shot one of them then while it was easy. Probably Emily as she seems to be the main target after you Mr Fitch, and you weren't there."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence JJ." Emily said smiling, but knotting her fingers in a way I'd discovered meant she was nervous. "It's so nice to know that they want to kill me _after_ daddy here."

"That's not what I meant Emily, what I meant was Mr Fitch here is the main target for their attentions, but that you would..."

" I think Miss Fitch gets the message, LT," I interrupted. "Basically the whole family are still in danger and we need to step up security when they're all together. What about when we get to the States LT?"

JJ paused for a second and rifled through his briefcase, finally extracting a document and handing it to me. As I read I heard him giving the Fitch's a quick précis of what it said.

"On behalf of Fitch Industries, James has been in contact with some friends at the Department of Homeland Security. They believe the threat level is very low, they have no reports of 'Khuddam-ul-Islam' operating in the United States and the security for the Arms Expo will be very high anyway as it's considered to be a sensitive target."

"All us military buyers in one place all together, "Rob joked trying to put a brave face on things. "Not to mention all us evil Arms Magnates."

_'Yeah,'_ I thought to myself as I read the confidential document; _'I bet some of those 'Evil Arms Magnates' that are selling arms there deal with those fuckers as well, or twats like them.'_

"So Emily and Katie will be safe in America?" Rob asked quickly.

"The threat will certainly be lower than in the UK," JJ replied calmly, folding up the letter and tucking it away as I handed it back to him.

"Right, that's very reassuring. However there is still the threat of these nutters whist we're all here. Naomi I need you to do something for me until we know that the situation has changed. I'd like you to move in to the St John's Wood flat with Emily, I would feel a lot happier knowing that you were near her all the time after receiving these."

I felt Emily's eyes flick to mine and then straight across to her fathers and I saw her hands clench into fists and her face turn red.

"I'm not sure that's a..." I started, not getting far before Emily erupted.

"What the hell daddy, you can't just ask that of Naomi here, that's totally out of order; and what about me? Do _I_ not get a say in who lives in _my_ flat."

"_I _bought you that flat Emily so no, I want Naomi staying with you. I'm paying James Cook a shitload of money to protect you and my family and if I want round the clock protection that's what I'll get. JJ I hope you'll assist Naomi in making that happen, for Katie and James too."

Emily stared daggers at him and then got up out of her chair, crossed the room, nodding at JJ in passing and left. I got up and went to follow her, only to feel Rob's large hand latch onto my arm as he stopped me in my tracks.

"One second if you would Naomi please," he said softly. "Mr Jones would you excuse me for a second, I would like to have a private word with Naomi?"

"Of course, I'll be outside," JJ said as he headed for the door; as it closed behind him Rob sat down in one of the conference room chairs.

"You may have noticed Naomi, that Emsy and I don't always get along," he held up his hand as I went to speak, causing me to fall silent. "No, it's true. If I'm honest I'd admit that she hates me most of the time because I can't help being a bastard to her. You see, I know a father isn't supposed to have favourites, but Emsy has always been my favourite daughter. She's special; she's clever, artistic, talented. She's the one that's really made this business since she came to work here. I pushed her into being a success, sometimes I think I pushed her, keep on pushing her, a bit too hard."

He paused and rubbed his hand across his eyes, suddenly looking nothing like the arms dealing, arrogant fucker that he came across as; suddenly looking to me like a tired father who had lost his way.

"I can't change how Emsy feels about me Naomi, there's far too much water under both our bridges for that; so I let her hate me, because it makes her feel better. All I ever wanted was the best for my family Naomi, especially Emily; so I'm asking you please, convince her to let you stay at the flat. Since the moment you burst into my study at Larkhall, I knew you were going to be the one to keep her safe. I trust you Naomi so please, do what ever you can to keep my little girl safe."

I nodded curtly, getting a broad white toothed grin from the old fraud. I have no idea if he's playing me, but he at least at that very moment he seemed genuine. I might not like him for what he is and what he's done to Emily, but I had a grudging respect for his admission.

"I'd better go and check on Miss Fitch," I said, grabbing onto my professionalism with both hands and holding it firm.

"Thank you Naomi," he said softly before clearing his throat and reverting to type. "Now would you send that Jones boy in, so I can check on his security arrangements for the weekend bash."

o+o+o

I knocked on the door to Emily's office, and waited for her to call me in; not wanting to raise the tension any further. She'd looked fucking furious when she'd walked out of the Boardroom, so much so I was actually a little apprehensive about speaking to her.

"Come in Naomi," I heard call out and opened the door and stepped into the room making sure the door closed firmly behind me and turning to see her sat behind her desk, swinging on me huge leather chair.

"How did you..." I started, only to be interrupted.

"It was your knock Nomi, you knock like you're jumping to attention, one knock and then two quick knocks, like this;" _knock...knockknock_.

Her knuckles resounded off her wooden desk as she smiled at me knowingly. "You always knock like that you know? and it's always so fucking military as well, like you're yelling at a new recruit with that knock; _knock..._knockknock, always the same, every time. Actually the first one usually scares the shit out of me if I'm honest; but I always know it's you when the second two come along."

"You shouldn't take the risk of just assuming Emily, what if it was someone impersonating me?"

"Then they probably wouldn't knock would they? It's not as if my office door is even locked and even if it was, it's only an office door," she said reasonably, "I'm sure you could get in here with just a kick." I had to admit that she had me there.

"No, that's probably true." I replied, as if thinking about it seriously, "kicking in doors is a speciality of mine, though I hope I never have to do it to one of yours, I don't think you'd appreciate the flash bang that follows."

"You know all my doors are open to you Nomi, it might even be fun to have you kick one of them down once, or maybe twice. Especially if you're in some sort of uniform."

"Emily Fitch!" I exclaimed haughtily, playing along with the game.

"Oh come on Nomi, you're telling me you've never used your uniform to spice things up a bit now and again?"

I grinned at the sly wink she gave me, acknowledging her victory. Grinning cheekily back, Emily waved me to sit down on the sofa I'd had lunch on the first time I'd been in her office. Another home from home now, not that I actually had a home.

"Look Emily," I started as I sat down on the cold leather. "I know that Rob was a bit..."

"Controlling, domineering, shitty, totally fucking out of line?" She finished for me.

"Well I was going to say abrupt actually, but I was going to add that I think he has your best interests at heart."

"I know," she sighed kicking her heels up onto the desk and swinging back on her chair. "It's just he's such a fucking _cunt_, you know?"

I looked at her as she sat sliding down into in her chair, I was actually shocked by the language, but then I guess that was the point. She'd used that word to shock me, using it to express her true feelings for her father; I sat there silently not wanting to comment, knowing somehow that she neither wanted, nor needed me to. Knowing that she just needed me to be there for her, to listen. Then suddenly with a jolt she sat up in the chair and grabbed her phone.

"You want to go out for lunch today Naomi? I'm suddenly starving, I've got a conference call in five minutes and then I'm free for the afternoon. I fancy lunch and then some retail therapy for my trip, I think I deserve it."

I shrugged and then grinned at her. "I believe I'm at your beck and call Miss Fitch," I told her resulting in a goofy smile.

"Yeah you are Miss Campbell, and that's just how I like it."

o+o+o

We had lunch over in Knightsbridge; in one of those restaurants that appear and disappear with alarming regularity due to their high prices and even higher rents. Amazingly what we ate was pretty good, even if I did spend most of the chuckling cruelly at Emily's attempts to eat her tuna salad with her plaster clad hand.

"You're supposed to be more sympathetic Naomi Campbell, she announced as I sniffed back a laugh as another forkful of food ended up back in the bowl.

"I'm on the clock Miss Fitch," I told her. "I don't have to be anything but your CPO."

"Well you should be more professional then Miss Campbell, and show a bit more respect to your employer and her difficulties. Especially as this," she held up her wrist, "is totally your fault!"

"Yes Miss Fitch," I replied, placing my hands into my lap and faking an ashamed look like a chastened servant. "It won't happen again Miss Fitch. Would you like me to cut up your tuna Miss Fitch?"

"I'd like you to stop calling me Miss Fitch you cow," she replied her face breaking into a broad smile, "and pour me a bloody drink. I think I'm going to need it if I've got to put up with your glum 'I hate shopping' face all afternoon."

"I will do my best to ensure you see nothing but my most impassive, CPO face Miss Fitch." I said pulling out my sunglasses and placing them onto the table. "I shall hide my frustrations behind my sunglasses and scare off your admirers with my stern looks."

"You have frustrations Naomi?" she asked cheekily doing that 'I think she's flirting' thing again.

"Only when shopping Miss Fitch," I told her, "I hate shopping, remember?"

She winked at me and shovelled a forkful of tuna and green stuff into her mouth, I took a bite out of the wrap I'd ordered and tried to ignore her. Our eyes met as we chewed and hers twinkled happily at me causing me to smile.

"Where's that impassive face now Miss Campbell?"

"I'm eating Miss Fitch, it's the only pleasure I get with my slave driver of a boss."

"Talking of slave driver bosses," she said waving her fork about as she spoke. "We need to talk about Dad's request."

"I think it's a bad idea," I told her firmly, knowing that was what she wanted to hear.

"I don't," she said tapping her plate with her fork as she stabbed at her lunch, stacking up the salad along the prongs of the fork, finishing it off with a large chunk of the red fish.

"I thought you hated the idea," I replied, looking at her in shock. "When Rob mentioned it, it looked like you were going to explode."

"No Naomi, I just don't like being told what I have to do, least of all by my fucking father; but you have to admit that it does make sense. Even mum suggested you should move in to the flat. Like she said, that way you're close if I need you; professionally and personally."

"That's why I think it's a bad idea Ems. I really don't think me moving into your place would be good for either part of our relationship."

She eyed me appraisingly as she chewed on the mouthful of food that she'd taken whilst I was speaking, finally raising an eyebrow as she swallowed.

"Relationship?" she asked quietly.

"Yeah," I answered deciding to be brave, "relationship. Professional and personal."

Emily's smile was like the dawning of the sun, a look of pure pleasure seemed to wash over her face and she stared at me so hard it left me torn between wanting to grab her and kiss her, or run like hell.

"I could kiss you to death right now Naomi Campbell, if you weren't on duty; you know that?."

"Then it's probably just as well I am Miss Fitch, I'm not keen on fishy breath."

"Shut up!" she said throwing her napkin at me.

"Yes Miss Fitch."

We finished lunch with a promise to discuss the whole 'moving into the flat situation' when we got back from America, there wasn't enough time to consider the logistics of it really. Tomorrow night we were leaving for Fitch Manor for the extended weekend and after that we'd be flying to the States for the Expo. This would be a big step, both professionally and personally; and even though we weren't moving in together in the personal sense, it was still a massive step for me. I'd never not had my own place, my own refuge to run to when things got difficult.

The thought of it had scared me so much I'd spent the entire session that night discussing it with Joanna.

I still didn't have a satisfactory resolution.

I doubted I ever would, not until it happened and perhaps not even then. I'm pretty sure I'd always need a lifeline, always need an escape route; even from her.

o+o+o

Thursday afternoon found me driving the Fitch's Range Rover back to their country home. My replacement car was apparently arriving when Emily and I would be in America and it was a useful time to drop it off. Despite the huge size and an engine that was making the oil companies millions all on its own, I was going to miss the old bus, it really was a luxurious ride, far nicer than my experiences of the Land Rover brand in the Army.

As I drove along the M4 back toward Bath Emily chirped away next to me, either chatting about nothing in particular or singing along with whatever was playing on the radio. It was nice, it was comfortable and it was made the more easier because Emily's meetings were now over, everything was set up and done; next stop the Expo, well after the four days I would have to endure at Larkhall House that is.

Jenna had arranged the big family get together, JJ had arranged the security and Emily had arranged some kind of surprise for me, though she was refusing to tell me what it was.

"_No_," she'd said exasperatedly over dinner the evening before when I'd casually slipped the question into the conversation again. _"Naomi I am not telling you what your surprise is, now will you leave it alone?"_

"_I hate an unsatisfied curiosity Ems, this is positively killing me you know."_

"_Well it'll have to carry on killing you babe,"_ she replied with a wicked glint in her brown eyes, _"because I'm not telling you."_

She'd refused to discuss the surprise any further, despite my playful threats of torture and death; and eventually I'd given up and stewed in silence. This had continued between us off and on for most of the next day, until we'd got into the car that was, which was when she began singing along to the radio.

Finally, I'd admitted defeat. She wasn't going to crack, and I didn't have the heart to turn my full investigators skills onto her. If it meant that much to her to keep it a secret, 'd decided that I could hold out for the next hour or so until we get there.

Happily for me, apart from Emily's terrible singing, the journey was uneventful, and pretty soon I was pulling up on the broad gravel driveway of Fitch Manor and smiling as Emily bounded out of her seat and ran up the steps of their home to drag her mother into a big hug. Jenna waved at me as Emily gripped her and I raised a finger from the steering wheel in salute.

"Mrs Fitch has asked me to inform you that you are in Miss Katie's old room again Miss Campbell," Andrew said stiffly as he approached the vehicle. "I will have your bags taken up immediately."

"Thanks Andrew," I said, ignoring the formality. "Where do you want me to park this thing, I'm returning it today."

"I will deal with it Miss; Mrs Fitch would like to speak to you in the reception room."

I handed over the keys and made my way up the steps to the house, wondering which of the rooms was the reception room. Thankfully I heard Jenna call me from a room to my right and I walked in to see her and Emily sat on a sofa.

"Come in Naomi, sit down and I'll pour us some drinks," Jenna said, leaning forward to the silver coffee pot on the table.

"I could do with checking in with whomever's on duty Jenna," I told her quickly, knowing that my duty lay elsewhere. "But thank you. Besides, I'm sure you and Emily would like some time together alone"

Jenna looked at me and pursed her lips but finally nodded understandingly. "Do what you need to do Naomi, I'm going to take Emily here down to the south gardens after we've had a drink and a chat, I'd appreciate it if you'd join us when you're done."

"Certainly," I replied. "I don't think I'll be too long, I just want to get up to speed with the team and make sure we're ok?"

"Naomi, I've had Andrew put a change of clothes I ordered for you in your room," Jenna said, casually pouring herself an Emily a coffee from the cafetiere that sat in front of them. "I think you should get changed before you come down to join us. I'd hate for you to ruin your work clothes on my behalf."

I smiled and nodded my thanks and left the room, leaving mother and daughter to their chatting. Half an hour later I was happy, reassured that the guys were still doing a good job and impressed with the trainee that Andy had recommended, Karen, who was working the camera station today. Finally I made my way into my, or rather Katie's, room and started unpacking my gear to get it out of the way; It didn't take long for me to stuff things into drawers and onto hangers and then I kicked my bags under the bed and looked to see what Jenna was on about.

I stared at the clothes that had been folded and placed on my bed in some surprise; they were definitely not what I was expecting. Stripping down to my underwear I picked up the jet black pair of combat trousers and pulled them on, slipping the black thin weave jumper on and tucking it in as I zipped them closed. The next item of clothing was a light tactical vest, with a pouch at the side that looked like it would nicely hold rifle or shotgun rounds. Jenna had obviously decided to treat me so I could help her shoot again; and I wondered if she'd bought a matching outfit for herself.

I had a slight grin on my face as I caught a look of myself in the mirror as I pulled on the combat boots that had been placed out for me as well. I looked like I was preparing for a tactical ops mission and it made me feel really good to be wearing something that looked like a uniform again. I'd even missed the cold feeling of a new pair of boots, though these were nothing like the ones I'd been issued by Her Majesty's Quartermaster stores, these felt like a second layer of skin, light, soft and very, very comfortable.

Standing up and doing my traditional bounce on my heels to settle my kit, I grinned at myself once more in the mirror, pulled what I could of my hair into a short pony tail and headed downstairs and out towards the back gardens. What I saw when I got there caused me to stop and take a second glance. Part of Jenna's shooting field had been turned into a proper shooting range, pop up targets with sandbags and barrels for cover. Someone had really done a number on the place, and I had an inkling as to whom, and who for.

"Naomi," Jenna said as I walked over to her, you look very smart like that, doesn't she Emily?"

"Oh _yeah_ Mum, very smart."

Ems looked me up and down behind her mother's back and licked her lips, very deliberately making she she'd caught my eye before she did so.

"Thanks, it feels good to get out of a suit and into some proper working clothes," I said ignoring Emily's teasing. "What's all this then?"

"We've borrowed some kit of a contact of mine," Emily said standing and turning her back on me.

"That's right," Jenna added, "We thought you'd want to get in some practice before the competition, well actually Emily and I thought you should. We really want you to beat James," she added conspiratorially.

"Yeah, so with this in mind we got you this," Emily said, turning around with a funny looking rifle in her hands, "something to practice with out there."

I flinched as the barrel turned in my direction and to my horror heard a loud series of bangs and felt a twin impact in my leg, right in the spot where the first round had hit me in Gereshk. As a sharp pain lanced through my body, I heard Emily's cries of apologies drowned in the flashback of that terrible moment and then the world went black.


	37. We'll Be Fine

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent and a distinct lack of awesomeness!

Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which still makes me very upset but not as much as before).

**Chapter 37 – We'll Be Fine**

I came around to find Emily fussing over me as I lay on the ground.

"Nomi, Nomi, are you ok, fuck I'm sorry, did I hurt you?"

I struggled to my elbows, the lancing pain in my leg being replaced with a dull throb. I looked down to see a bright green blotch on my thigh, a dramatic contrast to the black material of my combats.

"I'm fine Ems," I said without thinking, "I'm not hurt, I don't really know what came over me."

I'm lying, I know I'm lying; I know exactly what came over me, a bad fucking memory overloading my brain, and a very sensitive spot; mental and physical scars that still hadn't healed. So I'm lying to her about it, but it's not something I'm enjoying, I don't like lying to Emily, it feels wrong…all fucking wrong.

"Did I hurt you, shit babe, I'm so sorry; it just went off in my hands." She said pulling me into a tight hug. "I nearly died when you collapsed then. I thought I'd really hurt you."

"I'm fine hun," I said hugging her back, running my hands up and down her spine comfortingly. "It was just a bit of a shock that's all, hit me in a painful place you know? Sort of physically and mentally."

She held me tightly for a few seconds before our moment was interrupted by a voice.

"Well it's nice to see you two acting normally finally, even if it did take Emily shooting you with that bloody paintball gun Naomi. It's about time you two stopped pussyfooting around each other."

Jenna, _'shit'_, I had totally forgotten about Jenna in all the embarrassment, quickly I twisted my head around to see her smiling at us indulgently.

"You two do make a lovely couple you know, but then I thought that last time you were here." She said cryptically, holding out a hand and helping me to my feet when Emily disentangled herself from me.

"Jenna, I er…"

"Oh shush Naomi dear, did you honestly think that Emily hasn't been on the phone to me almost every day since you left here?"

"No, she did mention…"

"Well then, you don't have to pretend around me, I told you the last time we spoke that you seem to make my daughter happy and that's good enough for me. Now then, are you ok?"

"I'm fine, honestly, I'm absolutely fine; apart from feeling a little embarrassed at myself, and my own stupidity," I said wiping at the green blob with the end of my sleeve.

Both Jenna and Emily eyed me suspiciously, as if knowing that I wasn't telling the whole truth, Jenna went to speak but Emily cut her off quickly.

"Well now at least you see why I don't think I should be allowed around real guns Nomi, if that had been real I might have killed you."

I grinned at her, hoping that the pain in my leg didn't make it look like a grimace, "Yeah, remind me to teach you some range safety next time you ever pick up a weapon again, starting with the use of a safety catch and never pointing a rifle at someone unless you mean to use it."

"Like mother like daughter," Jenna said, "I seem to remember your very first words to me were something about pointing guns down range."

"Yeah, I don't know what it is about you Fitch women," I said trying to alleviate the tension that hovered over us because of the accident and my extreme reaction to it; "but you both seem intent on getting me killed."

The nervous laughter that started suddenly broke into good humour as we relaxed, and I thought it was time to take the initiative again and try and remove some of Emily's embarrassment, as well as my own.

"So what is this little playground you've set up, and what the hell was that you shot me with Ems?"

"It's a training rifle Naomi, Emily said proudly, carefully holding up the replica M4 assault rifle; her fingers thankfully far away from the trigger.

"We were sent some prototypes to evaluate months ago and I thought you might like to try one. They're not really our thing, but they are the best on the market; I think you'll like using it. Basically it's a paintball gun, but it uses slightly smaller rounds and it's designed to act and feel like a real gun. Apart from the fact that it doesn't actually do any damage when some clumsy idiot like me accidentally shoots someone with it."

I couldn't help but smile as she kicked the floor in embarrassment and I reached out to take the rifle off her, turning to point it down range and clicking on the safety just in case. It actually felt like a real M4, perhaps a little heavier and the balance wasn't quite right, but it wasn't as weird as the paintball guns with the huge hoppers on the top that I'd played in the woods with when we were on leave years before. I hefted it to my shoulder, getting a feel for it, before clicking off the safety catch and pulling the trigger a few times, sending the tiny green balls downrange to burst on one of the targets they'd set up. It shot nothing like a real gun, there wasn't any recoil and the range and accuracy was abysmal. Still it was a nice thought.

"It's not that much like the real thing at that sort of range Naomi I know," Emily said as if reading my thoughts, "But it's designed for close quarters training and I thought that if nothing else it would help you sharpen up your reflexes; you know get you a bit readier for that competition. We've even got you a training pistol to play with as well."

"It's fine, thank you both." I said with genuine gratitude at their thoughtfulness. "It's not the same as the real thing but you're dead right, but it'll help me a lot getting ready. I can fine tune things next week with Cook."

"I'm sure you'll be fantastic Naomi," Jenna said with a broad smile, "I wish I could be there, I would dearly love to watch the smiles fall off the faces of my husband and your boss."

"Rob's betting on me winning Jenna, don't you remember?" I reminded her of the deal.

"Yes dear, but I thought I told you that I'm sure he only did it because he doesn't think you'll win. He doesn't have a high opinion of women's skills my husband. He used to, but I think we intimidate him nowadays. Anyway, I know you'll be brilliant, I'm certain you'll win first time out."

I'm sort of glad that she did; personally I didn't hold out much hope for finishing, let alone winning, this competition. I mean, sure, I'd been good in my day, one of the best in my unit in fact. But that was a while ago now and I was hardly at one hundred percent fitness; I still, apparently, had nerve damage in my arm and I hadn't picked up a weapon in anger since Gereshk. Put all those things together and it doesn't equal a winning combination. I was, however, positive I wasn't going to let myself or anyone else down; and if Jenna was going to run my fan club I'd better do her and Emily proud.

"Do you want to give it a run through Naomi? I can set it all up for you if you'd like?"

"That would be great Jenna thanks," I lied to the pair of them once again; my scar was killing me and my leg felt like it didn't want to move any more. "I'll just get used to this thing first."

Emily handed me a pistol holster with a small metal gun in it. I clipped the holster to my belt and clicked the thigh retainer into place carefully, making sure it wasn't so tight that it impeded movement, or pressed on the still sensitive tissue. Leaning the rifle against a barrel I drew the pistol and aimed it down range. It felt surprisingly real and with a quick click of the safety I'd sent six balls whipping down range in the blink of an eye.

Again, it wasn't like shooting the real thing, but it was close enough for a practice. Between them Jenna and Emily showed me how to load and recharge the magazines for the two guns and I readied myself for the embarrassment that was about to come; slotting spare 'clips' into the pouches of my vest, wishing I had the time to attach my usual loops of string to the bottoms for speed.

"It's a straight timed pattern Naomi," Emily said as if she'd been describing things like this all her life, which I guess she had in a way. "Standard 'run the gauntlet' setup just like the one in the competition. Shoot the hostiles, don't shoot the friendlies, you lose ten seconds for every hostile you miss and twenty if you shoot a friendly. Mum's going to time you through. Go on the green light, and the sound of the hooter; ok?"

"Ok," I said pulling on the shooting glasses she'd given me to protect my eyes 'just in case'. I hefted the rifle into my left shoulder and stood on the line, feeling the familiar surge of adrenaline as my body readied itself for action; perhaps that wasn't going to be too bad. For the first time in nearly six months I felt like my old self again. I grinned at Emily, who was leaning casually against the hay bales that made up the starting gate, and winked. Turning my head I nodded across at Jenna and looked down range, allowing my peripheral vision to concentrate on the light bulb to my side.

It wasn't the fastest start to a timed combat run I'd ever done, jumping slightly as a klaxon blared to the left of me as the bulb went green, within a second the targets had started moving and I was up and gone, running to my first firing point and letting off two rounds at the nearest 'hostile', watching with satisfaction as the rounds hit home in a splurge of green paint. I ran across to the next cover point, snap-shooting at a target that appeared to the side, 'killing' my target with the first shot. As I dropped to one knee to shoot at a 'hostile' in the distance, a board twisted around in front of me, revealing a target and I shot at it instinctively; pausing horrified as I realised I'd shot at a clearly marked woman and child. That was the first time ever I'd done that and I pointed the rifle at the floor and stared at it.

"What's up Naomi? Is everything ok?" I heard Jenna call and I turned to give her the thumbs up, spotting a worried looking Emily standing by the start gate. I wiped the paint off the target with a hand, wiping it on my trousers as I turned to head back to the start; feeling less confident now than I had when I started; if that was even possible.

"Do you want me to reset it all Naomi?" Jenna called out as I walked back towards them. I didn't really, not at all; but they'd gone to so much effort I didn't have the heart to say no. How can you tell someone that you've no interest in something they've invested time and money in especially for you? Especially when the only reason that you could give them is that you're annoyed at yourself because you've fucked up for the first time ever at the _only_ thing you've ever been really good at. Something you know you'll never be able to do properly again. Instead I nodded and reloaded the rifle as I wandered back, ready to try again.

"You ok Nomi?" Ems said softly as I stepped up to the start gate. "You look angry, you don't have to do this if you're not up to it; I know I hurt you before and..."

"It's ok Ems, I'm fine, _we're_ fine; I'm just angry at myself that's all. It's just me being stupid. Give me a second to get my head straight again and I'll take another shot at it ok?"

I plastered my face with my best encouraging smile and felt my heart lift at the sight of a pleased smile on Emily's face. She looked across at the shooting hut where her mother was operating the equipment from, my eyes instinctively followed hers and I frowned slightly as I saw nothing, not even Jenna and wondered what she was looking at. My frown vanished seconds later when I felt her soft lips press against my cheek, vanishing as quickly as they had arrived.

"Go have fun playing in the field Nomi, it's all for you." she tugged at my sleeve affectionately and pressed her leg against my side, pushing my holster into my flesh.

"I can't tell you how hot you look all dressed up like that you know. I hate guns, but I'll certainly make an exception for them if you keep wearing that get up."

She took a step back and looked me up and down before pirouetting and skipping away.

"Definitely make an exception," she called over her shoulder before shouting for her mother, who appeared from the back of the shed, a cup in her hand.

I stood there watching her prance away grinning like a twat before remembering what I was doing. I had a competition to enter and people that wanted me to win. It was time to get serious, time to make a proper effort.

_'Time to get your shit together soldier,'_ I told myself, _´no fucking around this time, take it serious and let's do it right! Just like in the old days, when you had live ammunition and a point to prove.'_

Two hours, and one break later I was feeling back in my game. The adrenaline was pumping through my system and I really was feeling like the old Naomi Campbell. It's hard to explain but I felt overjoyed, elated, on top of the fucking world. I was doing what I did best, kicking ass and taking names and it felt fucking great.

The target range was in need of a serious hosing down. I'd done run after run, getting myself used to the precision of combat shooting. To the layman it looks like some muscle bound idiot running and shooting willy-nilly, to the trained professional though it's like a ballet of mental and physical perfection. You have to move swiftly yet be able to both balance and change direction at a moment's notice. You have to be focused enough to hit the target, but aware enough to know what was going on around you and where your next move and cover position would be; and to cap it all off you had to be able to differentiate friend and foe in the blink of an eye...

...and in that blink of an eye have enough control to squeeze the trigger or leave it alone and spare an innocent life.

It used to piss me off when I would read the do-gooders talking about shooting 'incidents' raging on about _'trained professionals that shouldn't be making mistakes like that'. _It pissed me off because we all knew they were right, we shouldn't make mistakes like that; but you know what? We're human.

I often wanted to put one of those idiots in a simulation like this one, you know do it properly; live ammunition, people shouting at them, loud noises the whole nine yards. Couple that with a lack of sleep and eight hours of permanent tension that they might be killed and they might have an idea what a combat soldier goes through.

Mistakes happen because people are human, and they regret them for the rest of their lives afterwards, their humanity torturing them far more than anyone else could do. For such a violent race we're really not equipped for killing, dehumanisation of the enemy 'helped' but you can't really dehumanise an innocent. I'm only glad it had never happened to me, I'd come close once or twice, thought about it a few hundred times more when we were being stoned or spat at but I'd never actually pulled the trigger. Not until today that is, and I know that was because I saw it as a game; toy guns and toy targets. Once I'd got that out of my head things went far more smoothly and I was actually really enjoying it.

It helped that Emily was there with her mother, not only did they keep switching the targets so no run was the same as the other; but their friendly encouragement kept me going through those first few early, and painfully slow, runs. Jenna reminding me of a skill-at-arms instructor, bellowing encouragement and times and insisting I work harder all in the same sentence.

"That's your best time yet Naomi, well done; keep that up and you'll have Robert and James quaking in their boots. Another run, or do you want to call it a day?"

"I think we should call it a day Mum," Emily said before I could get a word in. I would have argued with her, if I wasn't in full agreement. I was feeling a bit jaded and really felt like I needed a shower.

The three of us swiftly cleaned up the small mess we had made and I slung the rifle over my shoulder and we trudged our way through the neat little gardens and back up to the house. As we walked I heard a grumbling noise and turned to see Emily blushing .

"Pardon me," she said quickly putting a hand over her stomach. "I think I've worked up an appetite watching you run around Naomi."

"I know the feeling," I said grinning at her embarrassment, also realising I was quite hungry too.

"Did you girls not have lunch?" Jenna asked, stopping in front of us and putting her hands on her hips exasperatedly.

"We didn't get chance mum," Emily said quickly. "It's my fault, I wanted to get here as early as I could to see you before everyone else arrived."

"and wanted to show Naomi our little project as well I suppose?" Jenna replied with a smile and a raised eyebrow.

"Well there might have been something of that in it too. You have to admit mum, Naomi does look good with combats and a rifle."

I stared at her open mouthed as she discussed me with her mother as if I wasn't really there. I hitched the rifle strap on my shoulder uncomfortably and realised my mistake when they both looked at me.

"I see your point Emily, I suppose," Jenna said with a wicked smirk hovering on her lips. "She does look very, competent, in all that equipment doesn't she?"

"Oh yeah mum, very competent!"

I squinted my eyes and frowned at the two of them, resulting in a laugh. Their piss taking over, we carried on walking up the gardens gravel path until we reached the house.

"Leave those guns here Naomi," Emily said pointing at a table in the hallway outside the kitchens; "Andrew will sort them out for us later. Do you want to grab a shower and get changed, I've had an idea for a snack for us. Is dinner going to be at the usual time mum?"

"Yes, dinner will be at nine Emily dear," Jenna said wandering off towards one of the side rooms. "Your father will be here tonight so you will have to dress up, that goes for you as well Naomi. Robert and I insist you join us."

Inwardly I groaned at the thought of a formal Fitch family dinner party. With me being the only interloper to boot. _'Fucking marvellous,'_ I thought as I trudged upstairs to my room and a nice hot shower; _'what a miserable end to an otherwise great day!'_

o+o+o

Showered and dressed in something comfortable I walked down the stairs of the hall to see Emily sat waiting for me with a small knapsack in her hands.

"There you are," she said grinning, "I thought I was going to have to come up there and drag you out of that shower you've been in there that long. I've been waiting here for ages."

"I'm sorry Miss Fitch," I said noticing Andrew was loitering nearby. "What is it you were waiting for me for?"

"Well, I'm starving and I know you've not eaten, But I want to go for a walk around the grounds, which you won't let me do on my own; so I've had the kitchen staff make us a few sandwiches and I thought we could eat something on the way."

"I'm at your disposal Miss Fitch, let me tell the team that we're going out into the grounds, just in case."

I lifted the small 2-way radio I was now carrying to my lips and radioed in, telling the security team of my plans, trying not to smile at Emily's impatient foot tapping; attempting to keep that professional veneer up in public.

"Finally," she said as I tucked the radio away and went to grab her bag. "Do you have to do that every time I want to leave the building."

"I do Miss Fitch," I replied smoothly; watching as Andrew's ears pricked up on the other side of the hallway where he was making a big show of rearranging some flowers in a vase. "I believe we have had this conversation before. I am not employed by your father because I cut corners. I will ensure your safety and that of your family, that is my only role here."

Ems looked across at the man servant and cocked her head at me, narrowing her eyes suspiciously. "Well," she said standing up and folding her arms, "Mum and I like you as a person _and_ as an employee Naomi, so you'll just have to accept that won't you? Whether you like it or not."

"Whatever you say Miss Fitch," I said, ending the conversation. I hitched the bag onto my shoulder and walked towards the doorway, opening it and making a big show of checking outside was clear before waving towards Emily to follow. With a roll of her eyes she stepped outside and walked away, me trailing behind.

It wasn't until we got out of the line of sight of the house that we dropped the act, we'd been playing; Emily leading me down the paths we had run along and into the small copse. As soon as she thought it was safe to do so she grabbed my arm and pulled me alongside her and we walked through the trees practically joined together.

"What was that all about Nomi?" she asked as we strolled. "Back at the house I mean? You were so fucking distant again, it was weird. Was it because Andrew was there?"

"Yeah," I replied actually liking the fact that she thought it was weird that we should act so 'normally', well normally for a CPO and her package that was.

"I don't trust Andrew," I told her, tying to articulate something that I didn't truthfully understand. "There's something about him I don't like."

"Andrew's brilliant, he's been with us for years. You don't have to worry about him, he's as loyal as they come."

"It's not that Ems," I said squeezing her arm. "I just don't think it's a good idea to behave in any way other than professionally around him, or anyone else that is. There are some people I trust and he's not one of them; he watches me and you far too carefully at the moment, has done since we first came here. I can't say what it is but there's something not right about the way he watches you."

"You're too suspicious baby," she said laughing at me and pulling away, linking her fingers with mine and dragging me along behind her.

"That's what you pay me for," I told her half running to keep up with her.

"I thought I was paying for your wonderful company and attentive nature."

"No, that all comes free, with the paid for services; but only for very, very special customers.

"Oh yeah, how many of them have you got?" Ems challenged; stopping in a small glade next to a stream that ran down into that lake we had run past. With a step she was pressing herself against me, pulling me closer to her and kissing me deeply.

"At the moment, only the one. My services have been exclusively hired for a year's contract."

"Good, that's what I like to hear; because of that I'll share my food with you."

"Er...Ems," I said with a smile, "unless its escaped your attention_ I_ have the food, see?"

I pulled myself away from her and held up the knapsack, trying to hold it just out of her reach. She simply stood there and frowned. "Don't make me fight you for it Campbell," she said shaking her fist threateningly at me. "You don't want to come between me and my lunch you know."

"No," I replied casually. "I really don't, do I titch?"

I wasn't surprised to be attacked, the 'fight' was as brief as it was brutal. Emily may be small but she's feisty and the swinging plaster cast was enough to make me wary. As it was she caught me a couple of times in places I knew would leave bruises; I'd hate to face her when she really was properly pissed off at me. Good, solid, advice for my future, both personally and professionally I think...do _not_ piss off Emily Fitch.

Eventually I got tired of messing about and allowed her to take the bag; she smiled triumphantly at me and winked at my look of distain.

"Pissed I beat you?" she said laughing and pulling a travel rug out of the bag, spreading it out carefully on the floor.

"Pissed that you're my boss and I'm not _allowed_ to beat you!" I said, folding my arms and frowning. Emily looked up at me and bit her top lip, obviously trying not to laugh.

"Shut up," I told her twitching lips, "you know I could kick your arse."

"Yeah, probably. Though I know your weakness now."

"My leg?" I said seriously, resulting in a confused frown from Emily, followed by a sudden surge of realisation.

"Well I was going to say that you're very obviously ticklish Nomi, as I found out the other night; but now that you mention it that leg did worry me today, what the hell happened?"

"Old war wound," I said sitting down on the blanket and tucking the offending leg under myself.

"With anyone else I'd think they were joking babe, but I caught a glimpse of some of your scars last time we were here. How bad are they?"

"Bad enough to be annoying, not bad enough to affect me normally," I told her casually. "I think that paintball caught me just about right. I don't think it healed very well originally if I'm honest; I was told I had nerve damage in my arm, but I'm sure that there's something wrong with that leg wound. It aches when the weather is going to change sometimes."

"What's it telling you now?"

"It's telling me that you'd better get that food out of the bag before I die of starvation!"

Ems grinned at me and sat down; digging around in the bag she brought out a thermos flask and some sandwiches wrapped in clingfilm, offering me a pack. I took the proffered food and opened it, looking with suspicion at the filling.

"I told chef that I wasn't going to wait for him to knock up anything too fancy, so I had him do my favourite.

"What the fuck is it?" I asked sniffing it cautiously.

"Coronation chicken, don't worry it's fine. Chef makes it for me fresh and it won't make your breath stink. Besides," she added winking and opening the thermos and pouring tea into the cups, "I've got plenty of mints with me."

"Cheeky," I replied tucking in, it wasn't bad actually. Much better than the stuff I used to buy in pots from the supermarket; when I was bothered going shopping that was, Amy and the Army usually looking after me and saving me from that pain.

We sat on the blanket, side by side, looking out onto the dark waters of the lake through a tiny opening in the trees and munched away happily; talking of nothing of any great consequence as we did so. When the food was finally gone, along with the pangs that my stomach had been giving me, Emily leaned her head against my shoulder, relaxing onto me.

"I've always loved coming down here," she said suddenly. "It used to be my most favourite place on the estate."

"Used to be?" I asked, noticing the subtle change in tense; I guess the investigator part of my training is still lurking under the surface.

"Yeah, used to be. Before Katie demanded her own room we used to share. I hated sharing with her, because, quite frankly, she doesn't know the meaning of the word. 'What's mine is mine, what's yours is mine as well' kind of thing. I used to come down here to hide, then as I got a bit older I started using the summerhouse. Katie hated it, said it was dirty and smelly and wouldn't come near it. So the summerhouse became mine, and it became my favourite place, my other place to escape. It's not as pretty, but it's warmer and drier so I could use it whatever the weather."

"I like it here," I told her truthfully. "I like being outside, no matter what the weather is like; and I'd love to swim in that lake. You know, go for a run and then just dive in along the way. I wanted to do that last time we were here."

"Well I'll bear that in mind when I get this thing off," she said holding up her cast. We still have a bet remember?"

"We do," I replied, "though you don't have to challenge me like that to get me to go to dinner with you."

"No," she agreed, snuggling into me; slipping her good arm around my waist; "not any more anyway. You have to admit, it was a good idea though."

"Very good Ems," I agreed looking up at the sky through the trees. "Very clever, I can't resist a challenge like that."

"I figured," she replied smiling following my gaze up into the sky. "What you looking at babe?"

"Those clouds," I told her pointing at the dark clouds that were beginning to obscure what had been, up until now, a perfectly decent sky. Within seconds the sound of rain hitting leaves began and Emily yelped as a large raindrop landed on her upturned face. I couldn't help but laugh as she jumped to her feet and started stuffing the remains of our picnic into the knapsack.

"I don't know what you're laughing at Nomi, we're going to get fucking soaked at this rate."

"We'll be fine, I told her, grabbing her arm and pulling her down to the floor, and hauling the blanket over the top of us; creating our own little bivouac. I pulled her close to me; ignoring the raindrops that were now thundering down around us, battering the outside of the blanket, soaking it through. The spattering sounds were filling the little glade with noise, but I heard nothing but the sound of our breathing, my senses filled only with the proximity of Emily Fitch to my heart. I looked closely into those big brown eyes as she knelt in front of me, staring up as I held her tight.

"We'll be fine," I repeated as I leant down to capture her lips in a soft kiss, feeling her body relax against me as she gave herself to my embrace; "it's only a little bit of water hun, stick with me and we'll be just fine."

**.**

**.**

**.**

**Authors Note **– I have a confession to make, I'm really not feeling this at the moment. I have this self imposed schedule you see; Wednesdays are supposed to be CP day and I've been failing at that with alarming regularity because it's taking me longer and longer to write these chapters. I'm not 100% sure about this episode and that's the problem. I think I need a break, or at least an opportunity to take the pressure, that I've created for myself, off myself for a bit.

I'm a firm believer that when a hobby becomes a chore, stop it before you start hating it and I'm close to that point right now. So forgive me if I don't say "see you next week" this time; it might be next week, or it might not...I'll see how the mood takes me. But please do stick with it guys, I want to continue with this (and PfP and the rest), and this is my way of making sure that happens, sorry if it pisses any of you off.

'Es the tired'


	38. Perfect

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness and a heavy case of writers block!

Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which still makes me very upset but not as much as before).

**Authors Note **– I know, it's been ages and ages and absolutely ages. I've been wanting to write, honest I have, but every time I sat at my screen my mind emptied, no matter how full my notebook is with stuff for this story.

Anyway, thank you all, those of you that send kind words, and thank you if you're reading because it meant you were willing to stick with this story. I think I sussed what was going wrong in my head, so if you don't mind I'm going to delay that trip to the States for a chapter or so, it seemed a little forced every time I tried to write it. So, first chapter in a while, and I'm (as usual) utterly paranoid about it, mainly because of the slight change in plan; but I sincerely hope it's ok. Bear with me, I'm still a little rusty and it'll probably show.

Hope you enjoy it, a few nods to my twittermates in here, it'll be interesting to see how many of them spot themselves (-:

**Chapter 38 – Perfect.**

The run back to the house was a cold and wet one, the deluge of rain becoming heavier and heavier until even the lure of Emily's lips couldn't distract me from the fact that we were soaking wet. We'd spent ages under that blanket until the ominous rumble of thunder in the distance had driven us from our little cocoon in search of warmth.

"Sounds like there's a storm brewing Ems," I'd said as I hauled her to her feet, "we'd better be getting back."

"Shame," she replied winking at me cheekily, her red hair sodden and plastered to her head, somehow still making her look great; "things were just getting interesting."

I couldn't help a grin passing across my lips at the thought of her hand creeping up underneath my soaked shirt, her fingers trailing gently across my twin dragons even as her tongue pushed hungrily into my mouth. Things were getting slightly more than interesting, and silently I thanked the Gods for their timely intervention.

"Still," she continued, grabbing my hand as we walked towards the edge of the woods, "perhaps I can persuade you to scrub my back in the shower I'm in desperate need of."

I stopped dead on the thin gravel path that lead back to the distant house, and looked at her; ignoring the rain that was streaming down my face and hair, dripping uncomfortably down the back of my shirt.

"It's ok Nomi, I know; I was just teasing you," she said tilting her own soaked head and smiling at me. "Things _were_ getting a little intense in there, don't you think?"

"A little," I replied simply; squeezing her fingers before dropping her hand in case anyone happened to be staring out into the rain soaked landscape and saw us.

"Do you think that perhaps we need to calm things down a little?"

I nodded, "I don't think that would be a bad idea Ems, especially here you know?"

"You're probably right, at least in public anyway. It's a shame though, the thought of getting caught is quite exciting."

I goggled at her for a second as she laughed at my reaction.

"The thought of getting fired by your father isn't quite so exciting Ems," I told her seriously. "I thought your _mum_ was going to chase me from the house with that shotgun of hers after dinner the last time we were here. I've no doubt that your father wouldn't hesitate to do the same."

"Dad's a cock."

"'Dad's' the boss."

Emily sighed as we walked up the path towards the house, our feet making a wet crunching sound in the soft grave. "He's still a cock," she asserted a hint of pain in her voice.

"You know he told me that you were his favourite daughter?" I said, probably speaking out of turn but not really caring. "Do you not think that's true?"

"When did he say that?" she snapped, before apologising quietly.

"It was after he ordered me to move in with you," I told her thinking back to that day. "He said that you were creative and intelligent and were always his favourite. He also said that you were the person that had helped to make the business a real success; but he also said that there's too much water under the bridge between you to make it better."

"He's right," she said firmly. "Look Naomi, I said to you not long ago that Katie's his favourite, remember? I meant it then and I mean it now. I love my Dad, I'd love nothing more for him to recognise me for who I am and what I do and be proud of me. The truth is that's never going to happen, he doesn't like me and he doesn't respect me; frankly I don't fit into his idea of how the world should be."

"Well that's what he said," I replied following her up the path. "He said that you were his favourite and that you'd made the business since you'd joined. He sounded like he meant it to me as well."

"Well forgive me my years of scepticism," Emily said a hint of sadness touching her eyes before she blinked and turned away. "It sounds to me like he was playing you again, remember he does that."

"You might be right hun," I replied carefully, not wanting to concede, but not wanting a fight either. "Either way he's still my boss and I'm sure he'd happily fire me, or fire something _at _me, if he knew what we've just been up to in those woods."

"You're probably right hun, so I'd better not tell him that he's just ordered me to move my _girlfriend_ in with me then;" she said suddenly smiling and stamping in a puddle at me. "He might just borrow Mums shotgun and hunt you down!"

I skipped to the side to dodge the water that came my way, failing miserably as my already sodden clothing was spattered with mud.

"What the hell, stop that!" I yelled as she stuck her tongue out at me and turned, running up the path away from me.

"Come on slowcoach, in case you _haven't_ noticed, it's fucking freezing _and_ chucking it down and I _really_ do need a hot shower," she yelled over her shoulder heading off into the gloom, her laughter trailing behind her. I watched her as she ran a short distance ahead before pausing and turning back towards me; folding her arms across her chest and tapping her foot impatiently. I couldn't help being amused, and it was with a wry, but happy smile on my face that I trotted after her.

It was the second time she'd called me her girlfriend, and the second time I found myself amazed by the fact that I wasn't even bothered by it; and although a tiny part of my brain was reminding me that I didn't like being labelled, I decided to ignore it. Emily Fitch had just called me her girlfriend again, and the secretly sappy side of me thought that was just a little bit more than perfect.

o+o+o

I eschewed the hot shower, as tempting as it was, almost as soon as I got back to my room; remembering, and being tempted by, the luxury of that huge bath. It didn't take long to fill the huge roll top tub; and it was with a satisfied sigh I slipped into the steaming water and closed my eyes. I even allowed myself the luxury of zoning out for a while as I soaked, my iPhone's tiny speaker filling the room with some light tunes, the volume down low, the mood relaxed. It was, for want of a better word, bliss.

"I could really get used to this," I said to myself as the heat soaked into my tired muscles and swept away the chill that I'd been feeling.

"Get used to what?" I heard shouted from the bedroom, "and who are you talking to to? Have you got someone in there with you Miss Campbell?"

"I could get used to soaking in a bath," I said raising my head above the lip of the roll top, "and no I haven't, and why are you hanging around in my room Miss Fitch?"

"I have to go through your room to get in and out of mine remember? _Someone_ broke my door lock."

I simply snorted at her response and ducked my head under the water; I had indeed broken her door lock, or at least that's what she'd said I'd done. As I held my breath and allowed my brain to focus once more, I made a little mental note to see if that was indeed the case at some point, or if it was just a clever excuse to keep wandering through my room...

...and if it was a clever excuse, I made another mental note to fuck up that door lock good and proper, at least for the duration of our stay.

I stayed under the water for what felt like ages, immersing myself in the hot water and allowing it to clear my mind. It wasn't as good as a swimming pool but it served its purpose, and after all, it was slightly warmer. When finally I surfaced, lungs burning, I heard a frantic knocking at the door and Emily's worried sounding voice coming from my bedroom.

"Naomi, _Naomi_ are you ok? Naomi?"

"I'm fine Ems, why?" I asked a bit confused by the hint of panic in her voice.

"Thank fuck for that, you scared the shit out of me then."

"I did?"

"You did!"

"Why?" I asked actually confused. I had no idea how or why I could have concerned her; I mean she knew where I was and we'd only spoken a second or so ago.

"Because I was trying to talk to you, and then you went all silent and all I could hear was splashing you twat; that's why, I was worried."

"I'm sorry Ems, I only ducked my head, I didn't think that would worry you; I mean, it's only a bath what could go wrong?"

"Well it _did_ worry me," she said and I could imagine the grumpy pout that was probably fixed to her face right now. "You were gone for ages, I was about to kick the door in to make sure you were ok."

"Doors not locked hun," I told her now fighting back the urge to laugh at her indignation, knowing that wouldn't be a good idea right now. "You don't have to kick anything in; besides, that's a solid door and I wouldn't want to see you in a leg cast as well as an arm one."

"Yeah well, my arm is nearly healed," she said, taking the bait and changing the subject, "it's been ages since they plastered me up, I'm going to see if they can take it off on Wednesday ready for the flight."

"Is that wise?" I asked through the heavy bathroom door, hearing only a muttered reply by way of response totally unintelligible over the sound of my music.

"Sorry? I didn't catch that Ems," I shouted, "why don't you come in if you're going to talk to me?"

"I can't do _that_," she exclaimed this time loud enough for me to hear her clearly, "you're in the bath."

"What's that got to do with anything?"

"It, it's just…well, you're in the bath aren't you?" she said weakly, confusing me even more.

"You've already said that," I replied, wondering what all the fuss was about.

"Yeah, well I can't just come in and talk to you when you're in the bath, that's not right."

I thought back to the last time we'd stayed here, where I'd walked out of the shower and she'd done everything she could not to look at me, well apart from the few sneaky glances I'd spotted her taking, and of course the whole thing with my back piece. Emily Fitch is a either a little bit shy or, despite her teasing, a little bit 'proper'. I was utterly intrigued and really wanted to know which was the case, however I also knew that today wasn't the time or the place to discover that.

"Well at least open the door Ems, that way I can hear you properly and don't have to shout."

She didn't reply, but a few seconds later the door opened slightly and I was hit with a wonderful blast of cool air which felt invigorating as it passed across my face.

"Can you hear me now?" Emily asked from the other side.

"I can hear you Ems…now, we were talking about that cast of yours; do you really think it's wise having it removed before your wrist has properly healed?"

"I don't really care babe," she said softly and I could picture her holding the cast up and regarding it disdainfully. "This thing is really annoying me now, it's stopping me having a proper shower or a bath, I can't go running without it feeling like a dead weight; fucks sake I can't even eat food properly with it."

I couldn't help but snigger at the memory, watching as the ripples of my movement ebbed around the still water.

"You're laughing at me aren't you Nomi?"

"Just a little, I was thinking about you and that salad when we were in Knightsbridge."

"Yeah, yeah, very funny Campbell, that's right laugh at the afflicted. I'll remember that you! Anyway it might not happen but that's what I want to do; I'm going to my Doctors on Wednesday to get rid of this stupid cast you put me in, and that's final."

I could hear that note of grumpiness creeping into her voice, the hard tones that brooked no argument. I ducked my head under the water once more, knowing that she'd be fine in a second; making a note to ensure that the cast was only removed if it was medically the correct thing to do, already creating the argument in my head on how to guilt her into listening to me.

"…dinner." Was all I heard as I surfaced again, gasping for breath.

"Sorry Emily, I didn't catch that?" I said, a little guiltily as I realised she'd been talking to me again.

"I said," she started, a hint of exasperation in her voice, "that you'd better start getting ready for dinner. We were out for longer than I planned and Dad likes to sit down for seven."

"What time is it now?" I asked sitting up in the bath, reaching over to grab a towel from the conveniently placed heated rail.

"Half five."

"Half five!" I exclaimed, sinking back into the water. "Jesus Ems you had me worried for a second then, I thought we didn't have much time."

"We _don't_ have much time hun," she said, her voice raising slightly as she replied. "It's a formal dinner tonight remember, Dad's home. James is already here and Katie will be coming with Gareth. With a full house like this I know Dad will want to have fucking drinks before dinner. You need to get your shit together and get suited and booted soldier!"

I couldn't help but laugh at that, I know she'll probably be annoyed but her attempt at giving me orders like a proper little officer was just that, laughable. I was still chuckling to myself after drying myself off and walking into my room with one of the Fitch's huge luxury towels wrapped around myself; rubbing at my hair with a hand towel I'd found, a hand towel that was larger and thicker than most of the towels I had ever owned.

"Will you stop that," Emily huffed as she walked into my room, curlers in her hair. "It wasn't that funn…"

Her voice trailed off as she stopped to stare at me, at first I thought she'd gone off on one of her, 'Naomi's showing skin' little mental wanders, but I was soon proven wrong as she walked up to me and carefully raised her arm to my shoulder.

"Jesus babe, what the fuck is that?"

"That's my war wound Ems," I said looking down as her finger traced the lines of my scar. "I thought you'd seen it before."

"Fucking hell, is that where you got shot?"

"One of the places," I replied enigmatically, thinking that despite the upturn in our relationship, the wound in my thigh was probably a little too intimate to share; especially given that I was only wearing a towel.

"It's not very nice is it?" I babbled as she stared at it, "I'm actually pretty lucky really, the bullet only grazed me really, if it had hit me properly it could have shattered my shoulder. The nurses in Bastion told me that I could have died from the blood loss if that had happened, as it was it was touch and go."

"Because of this?" Emily asked, gently pushing at the puckered skin as if fascinated by its raised surface.

"No, I got hit in the leg as well, that one nearly nicked my femoral artery; and if it had I wouldn't be talking to you now."

I smiled as her eyes flicked down to my legs before flicking away, "and before you ask, there's no way I'm showing you that one," I teased. "Not _yet_ anyway."

I saw the corners of her lips twitch slightly as she looked up at me, "That's a shame," she said, her impish look back on her face. "I think those scars are kind of hot, bit like those tattoo's of yours."

"You find my scars hot?" I asked, somewhat surprised by her admission.

"Nomi, I find almost _everything_ about you hot; but yes, I really do. If you must know I sort of have a thing for the bad girl, you know, bad attitude, dominant, covered in tattoo's; the scars are a bonus, and it's such a pity you can't ride a motorbike."

I felt the fingers of her right hand roll over my shoulder and make their way down the skin of my back, unconsciously tracing the spines of my dragons, before joining its plaster clad partner at my waist.

"What makes you think I _can't_ ride a motorbike Ems?" I asked, thinking of all the fun I'd had on the big 500cc off-roaders when I did my driver training in the Army.

"Oh, well doesn't that make you just perfect," she said smiling warmly.

"Far from it Ems. Without wanting to sound immodest, I think I _used_ to look pretty good, but that was before the ambush in Gereshk. I didn't have many scars before then, now I've got some really ugly ones."

"There's nothing ugly about them Nomi," she said gently but firmly shaking me by the hips. "Don't you _ever_ think that, they're a part of you and I love them to bits, just like those tattoo's of yours…all of them, even the one's I haven't seen…yet!"

To my surprise she stepped up onto her tiptoes and kissed me squarely on the bullet wound, before slipping her arms around my waist and squeezing hard.

"It's going to be tough tonight you know?" she said pressing her head against me as I wrapped her into a hug of my own, "being at dinner with you, but not with you, you know?"

"With me but not with me?" I enquired, trying for the tongue in cheek response.

"Yeah," she said sadly, this time not taking the out, keeping the subject serious.

"Exactly that, we haven't had much time for each other recently have we? Being alone with you this afternoon sort of brought that home to me."

"Ems," I started before being cut off as she continued.

"I need to try harder Nomi, I know that. Everything is so new and fragile between us, and all I'm doing is going to work; trying to sort out this fucking Exposition, and dragging you around behind me like some kind of a servant. I need to make time for _us_, time like this afternoon; just you and me together somewhere. Time for us to be a couple away from all of the Fitch family bullshit."

"Ems," I tried again, squeezing her shoulders tightly until she looked up at me. "It's fine, I know you're busy, hell I've been busy as well and when you get home from work I seem to be at Joanna's or in a meeting at the office or something."

"Yeah, but I feel like I've been neglecting you and that's not fair."

"Emily, you've done all _sorts_ of things for me over the last few weeks, starting with arranging that lovely Italian meal we had and ending with you arranging that shooting range for me today. You certainly haven't been neglecting me, if anything it's the other way around."

I got a tight squeeze back from those deceptively powerful arms, wincing slightly as the hard edge of the plaster cast pressed into my back, perhaps it would be good if it got removed soon.

"We're both fucking useless aren't we?" she said smiling, a warm loving smile that reached deep into those beautiful brown eyes. "Why don't we just agree that we've _both _been neglecting _us_ and try to do better in the future?"

I smiled down at her, "Yes Miss Fitch," I said cheekily, "why don't we do that?"

"Stop that you, and give me a kiss," she insisted pulling at my hips.

"I don't think that would be appropriate Miss Fitch," I said seriously, "I make it a rule not to kiss people when only wearing a towel, it tends to give them ideas."

"I can fix that!"

I felt her hands rise up my body and gently tug at the towel, which I held onto, it was in no danger of falling, she wasn't pulling at it that seriously, but I still gripped it tightly; pressing my biceps to my ribs holding it firm. "Stop that now Emily Fitch," I admonished, only half jokingly.

"Oh come now Nomi," she teased," this isn't the first time I've seen you in a towel, and you weren't so shy the last couple of times."

"The last couple of times we were uninvolved Emily, now it's something quite different."

"Oh fine," she said sighing melodramatically, "have it your way. Anyway, I've left your dress out again Naomi. Please wear it this time, for me?"

I rolled my eyes and nodded, giving ground just this once; it _was_ after all a formal dinner I'd been told, and it _was_ a fabulous looking dress.

o+o+o

An hour later I wasn't sure about how fabulous the dress actually was. Sure it was a lovely outfit, and the midnight blue colour looked great, but it made me feel extremely self conscious. It was satiny and clingy and it meant that I realistically couldn't wear anything underneath it, which didn't make me feel exactly secure given my circumstances. Still it wouldn't be the first time I'd 'gone commando' and I hoped that some sort of personal dignity would shine through my lack of confidence.

More than anything else, however, I hoped that the heels I was wearing under the draping material didn't cause me to fall flat on my arse; especially with James Fitch around. If I did, then that particular member of the Fitch family might get to see more of me than I'd ever bargained for, and that wouldn't be good.

I'd opted for minimal make up again, just enough to do the job and decided to do nothing with my hair; Emily having already dragged a set of straighteners through it leaving it looking, and feeling, great. As I saw myself in that dress, in a convenient full length mirror, I longed for a second for my long dark hair again; the hair I had before Franco had chopped and shaped and given me my current look, the hair I'd ruined beyond repair on the streets. I just knew that I'd have looked fantastic in this dress with my old look; to be perfectly honest I wasn't even sure if the hair and the tattoo and elegant dress worked together, but my fears evaporated as Emily entered my bedroom. It took only a look from her for me to know that, in her eyes at least, I'd scrubbed up pretty well.

"Wow, that really suits you Nomi," she said confirming my thoughts, "I told you you'd look fabulous in that dress."

"I feel ridiculous Ems, it's like I'm not wearing anything at all."

"Well, having only seen you almost naked the once babe, I'm not sure you look _that_ good...but you _do_ look fantastic; blue is definitely your colour."

"Like red is yours?" I asked, getting a warm smile in return for my compliment. She was wearing a simple black dress tonight and as good as she looked I was actually quite disappointed that she wasn't wearing her Jessica Rabbit outfit again. "…and what do you mean you've seen me almost naked?"

Emily blushed and lowered her eyes to the floor in what looked suspiciously like embarrassment and my curiosity was sparked. "Come on Fitch," I said jokingly, "spill!"

"It was that first night, back at your apartment," she replied, still not looking at me. "When James and Jeremiah were there, I don't think you remember but…"

"…my towel slipped," I said, remembering the moment. "…but you had your eyes screwed shut when that happened, I remember thinking that you were being all stuck up and prudish."

Emily simply bit her lip and continued to examine the floor. "You peeked," I exclaimed the penny finally dropping, "there was me thinking that you were horrified that it had happened and you peeked. Emily Fitch you totally perved on me."

"I did not peek," she said indignantly finally looking up at me, her cheeks still glowing with embarrassment, "I may have _noticed_ you when it happened, but I did not peek!"

"Did you get a good notice then?" I asked as I stepped over to the huffy little fireball and put my hands on her hips.

"I might have," she replied enigmatically, firmly removing my hands from her hips and putting them behind her back, slipping her own arms around me as I clasped my hands together. "...and stop teasing me Miss Campbell; you _know_ that I fancied you from that first day, I couldn't stop myself from noticing."

"Well as long as you realise that's as much as you're going to get to see for the foreseeable future Emily Fitch," I told her leaning down to rest my forehead against hers. "I'm not that kind of girl."

"I know you're not Nomi; for that matter neither am I," she said pulling back and lifting her head for a kiss. She's wrong though, I had _totally_ been that kind of girl in the past, but for some reason I'm not with her. For some reason this feels too important to mess up for just a quick shag; and I'm pretty sure she feels the same way too.

I'm pretty sure though, when we finally do sleep together, choirs will sing and fireworks will go off, she's _that_ kind of girl.

"We need to get moving babe, time to put our professional faces on and brave the masses."

I nodded, pulling reluctantly away from her and checking myself in the mirror once more, running my hands over my hips, smoothing down the dress and re-checking my makeup.

"How do I look then? Will I pass inspection for a seat at the Lord of the Manor's table?"

"Almost babe," she replied cocking her head and regarding me seriously. "There's just one more thing you need to make that outfit perfect."

I squinted at her as she walked across to my travel bag and unzipped a pouch I didn't remember packed anything into. "I hope you don't mind Naomi, but I slipped this into your bag when we were at your flat earlier. I told you that I thought it would go with that dress, please don't be angry."

She handed me a familiar looking royal blue box, piped with silver braid and I opened it to see the necklace and earrings that mum had given me all those years ago. I felt the slight clench of my heart as the memories came flooding back and smiled at her weakly.

"I'm sure she wanted you to wear them Nomi; from what you've told me about Gina the last thing she would want these to be would be something that makes you sad. Put them on babe, put them on and know she'd be proud of how beautiful you look wearing them."

She's right of course, that's exactly how Mum would feel and I nodded, turning to place the box onto the dressing table; sitting on the stool and taking out the cheap stud earrings I was wearing.

"May I?" Emily said gesturing at the box. I nodded again as I slipped the fake sapphire drop earring on; she carefully lifted the necklace from the box and unclasped it. I leaned my head forward as she slipped it around my neck, reaching back to pull the strands of my shoulder length hair out of the way. I heard a faint click and a slight chill as the unfamiliar material draped itself across my shoulders and chest as Emily settled the necklace into place.

I took a look at myself in the mirror on the dressing table. I did look good wearing the old family heirloom, not as good as when I'd seen my Mum wearing them, but good enough; Emily was right, it did go with this dress.

"You look beautiful Nomi," said the girl who stood behind me, her long red hair falling in delicate curls over my shoulder as she leaned in to kiss me on the cheek; "absolutely perfect."

"Thanks Ems, I'm not a patch on you though."

"Shut up and take the compliment babes," she told me as I stood. "Do you know how hard it's going to be sitting at dinner tonight and not thinking about slipping that dress off you?"

"You don't want to do that Ems, I'm not wearing anything underneath."

"Oh," she exclaimed running her hands over my hips and gently skirting my buttocks with her fingers. "Cheeky!"

o+o+o

To my absolute relief the evening meal with the entire Fitch clan went smoothly, almost too smoothly in fact. I'm not sure if it was Rob's presence at the head of the table, but everyone seemed to be on their best behaviour. It was like something out of an old fashioned TV show to be honest, it was all a little surreal, the women in formal dresses, the men resplendent in their dinner suits.

Emily and I bumped into James in the entrance hall and he made absolutely no secret of looking me up and down carefully.

"Naomi Campbell," he purred sidling over towards me and offering me his arm. "You're looking absolutely ravishing this evening, would you allow me to escort you to dinner?"

I frowned at him suspiciously as his, apparently trademark cheeky grin appeared on his face.

"Oh come on Naomi, just because I'm not exactly your type doesn't mean I can't accompany you to dinner and help you through what is likely to be a total fucking nightmare. My perpetual good humour will bring light to this dark tragedy of a meal."

"You might as well Naomi," Emily said linking her arm with her brothers. "It's either him, my Dad or Katie's husband Gareth."

"Heaven forbid that this fair maiden suffers an evening of crude Rugby stories from 'Captain Interesting' I shall rescue her this instant Sis and you along with her."

Spinning both him and his sister around, he linked his arm with mine and the three of us set off towards one of the side rooms. I had a weird urge to start singing "We're off to see the Wizard' as the three of us made our way down the corridor line abreast. James Fitch, true to his words, was making the evening a lot more fun; and right now he wasn't even trying.

If it carried on like this, it might just prove to be a good night, like the rest of the day had been, it might just turn out to be absolutely perfect...

_"Ah, finally; you're here," _Robs voice boomed out as we entered the room, silencing the chatter that I had heard as we'd approached. _"Fitch family, my guest of honour has arrived, come over here Naomi and let me get you a drink."_

...or then again, perhaps not!

.

.

.

**Authors Note **– Urk, still, back in the saddle...next time it'll be better, I promise!


	39. Memories of Mealtimes Past

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness and a heavy case of writers block!

Certainly nothing to do with Skins, (which still makes me very upset but not as much as before).

**Authors Note **– I know, I'm late again….I have a really, really good excuse I promise; more on that later! Anyway I bid you welcome to Chapter 39 of Close Protection, and I hope you enjoy it.

**Chapter 39 – Memories of Mealtimes Past.**

"Best time yet Naomi, really well done!"

Jenna's voice came drifting over the range as I placed the safety onto the fake rifle and wiped my brow. My last day at Fitch Manor was proving to be a tough one, my teasing of Rob over last nights dinner spurring Jenna and Emily to drive me to practice.

If I'm honest, I didn't need much motivation; according to Jenna, Rob didn't think I could beat Cook, let alone win the competition itself and that was why he had made his bet. I for one was determined to prove him wrong. Cook, on the other hand, was less disparaging; sending me e-mails from the States telling me how much practice he was getting, and how fast his times were. His teasing was good natured though, and he kept telling me how much e was looking forward to our little game. With little over a week to go to the event itself, however, the competition that would mark the culmination of our part of the expo, he seemed to be enjoying rubbing in how ready he was.

"Set them up again Jenna," I shouted over to the smiling Scot, "different pattern, give me a challenge."

She waved and began tinkering with the control board in front of her; and I reloaded the paintball gun and reset it, checking the pressure in its compressed air tank as I did so."

"You ok Naomi," Emily said as I approached the hay bales that marked the start where she was currently waiting; for some reason Katie and James had come down to watch me train, but had stayed well out of the way. Katie was seemingly thoroughly unimpressed with everything that was going on; James, on the other hand, was being very enthusiastic about the whole thing, insisting on letting me try a run for himself.

o+o+o

"It's not as easy as it looks," he'd announced after competing his first attempt, breathing heavily. Emily had taken great pleasure in announcing his minus time, his penalties outweighing the time it took him, as slow as it was. Just like his mother I'd found him to be fiercely competitive and after some pointers from me, and a little rest, he was dying to go again.

"_Keep the rifle tucked into your shoulder and remember to count your rounds," _I'd told him as we re-gassed the rifle and loaded his magazines. _"Don't try to rush and pick your shots. It's better to be half a second slower and get a clean shot than it is to rush it and get a massive penalty. That's how it works here._

"_Is that how it works in the real world as well?" _He'd asked, nodding at my words.

"_Depends on the situation,"_ I told him quietly, ensuring Emily couldn't overhear, wanting to shake him of his belief that war is a game. _"Sometimes that half a second is important, that's why we practice! Think of it like this James, on that last run how many bad guys did you miss?"_

"_Five," _ he replied sadly,_ "that's pathetic isn't it?"_

I tilted my head and patted him on the shoulder, _"In the real world James, the first one you missed would almost certainly have killed you stone dead, and probably everyone with you as well."_

He'd gulped dramatically at my words and blinked. _"That's what it's really like out there James, it's not like a video game. This…well, this is just a bit of fun to you, but to me this was a way of staying alive, get it right here you stand a chance of getting it right out there when the shit hits the fan. That's what trainings for James, it allows you to do things instinctively when you need to. Now get out there and show me what you're made of, you've got a time to beat."_

To his credit his second run was much, much better, and I was pretty sure that, with a bit more tuition, he could have performed even better still. He was light on his feet and his reactions were good. Unfortunately for him, before I could go right back into 'skill at arms trainer' mode, Emily had chased him off; insisting that I was cutting into _my_ training time, and my break was over.

o+o+o

"I'm fine Emily," I told her, taking the bottle of water from her hand and talking a long drink. "You guys are just slave drivers that's all."

In contrast to yesterdays storm, today had turned into a beautiful day. The sun was shining and I was feeling the effects in my vest and combats. It wasn't anywhere as hot as either of the war zones I'd served in, but it was warm enough; I wasn't looking forward to America's heat.

"Slave drivers!" Emily said with fake indignation, "I like that, here we are trying to encourage you to do well and you accuse us of being slave drivers. For that Naomi Campbell I'm tempted not to give you your present when we get to America."

"Present?" I said noncommittally, interested despite myself, but not wanting to show it. "Whatever."

Emily eyed me suspiciously before slapping me in the stomach with the back of her hand causing my to drop the water bottle.

"You _git_!" she said pouting. "You're supposed to be all disappointed and offer to take back the offending words." Her lips twitched as she pretended to frown at me, the smile very nearly breaking through. "That way I can relent, and tell you that you _can_ have your present when we get over there."

I shrugged and pulled down my eye protection just to annoy her.

"What can I say Ems?" I said casually as I lifted the rifle to my shoulder, "I have no doubt I'll get this present whatever I do…_Ready when you are!"_ I yelled across to Jenna and winked at Emily before turning my back on her and getting ready. It was with a real sense of joy that I launched myself through the gate as soon as the light turned green. As I powered my way from target to target I felt like I was properly myself again, like I was on top of my game and like I had never been injured.

It felt good, really, really good.

I felt whole again.

"Again!" I yelled at Jenna as I sprinted across the finish line, grinning like a lunatic at the thumbs up she gave me as I crossed the line. I jogged back to the table where Emily was stood waiting, picking up another magazine and slotting it home.

"Naomi, don't you think you should take a break?" she asked as James came over with a huge grin on his face. "You've been at this for hours now."

"One more run through Emily, then I'll take a break."

"Good…because I'm bloody starving, it's nearly half one in the afternoon and we haven't eaten since breakfast."

"Should have got Andrew to bring some food down for you Ems," James said patting his stomach contentedly. Chef did me a fantastic hot sandwich, see me though until later that will."

"Won't make you any faster on this course James," I told him, happy that it was just the three of us down here; Katie "helping" Jenna at the controls, though how she could "help" when she had her mobile phone glued to her ear I had no idea.

"Well I won't get as fast as you Naomi that's for sure. Cook should be worried, that last run was incredible."

"Practice James, that's all it takes. Lots of lots of practice."

"But no more practice today Naomi," Emily said firmly. "I want food, one more run you said."

"One more run Emily," I agreed, realising how hungry I actually was. "Then you can go and fill your stomach while I take a shower."

I walked across to the hay bales that marked our start, leaving the others behind me. I waved across at the waiting Jenna and readied myself, only half hearing Emily and James in the background as I focussed on the targets, waiting for the light.

"_So Emsy, what's with you and Rambette over there?"_

"_What do you mean James."_

"_You seem very close, are you fucking your bodyguard by any chance?"_

I nearly dropped the rifle as I heard his words, and waved again at Jenna to pause before kneeling to 'tie my laces' so I could surreptitiously listen in.

"…_not true."_

"_Come on Emsy, how long have we been close? There might be a few years between us but I know you better than anyone."_

"_It's not true James, so just leave it alone."_

"_Come on Emsy, you were practically eye fucking her last night over dinner. Shame she doesn't look at you like that though isn't it?"_

"_James, I was not eye fucking Naomi, it's all in your nasty perverted little mind."_

"_Hey Sis, I call it like it see it, don't know what you're getting so angry about. It's not like it bothers me! Though I can't say I blame you; she is well fit, I'd do her!"_

"_JAMES…"_

"_Wow, defensive much sis?"_

"_Fuck you Jimmy…"_

I didn't hear the angry exchange that followed, as Jenna waved at me when I stood up; and it was time to go again, put that interchange behind me, and get back in the game.

o+o+o

The shower felt awesome as I allowed the hot water to pound down on my tired body. Showers are always good, but this multi-jet power shower was something special. Nothing but the best for a young Katie Fitch I guessed, I can only imagine what this little lot would have cost Rob and Jenna. I'd imagine that the bathroom alone probably cost more than the tiny house mum and I used to live in. It wouldn't surprise me if it had anyway.

I wasn't complaining though, I could feel the slight aches and twinges in my, thankfully improving, muscles easing away under the watery massage. I was happy that my time was split between work, Joanna, and Emily; but it did eat in a little into my sleeping time when I finally got home and hit the apartments gym and that fabulous swimming pool. Still, I was used to having no sleep, I could save it all up until I had my next day off; or wait until the flight to America. I was pretty sure that the only way to survive a flight that long might be to knock myself out; my memories of planes aren't that positive after my flight back from Bastion. For the first time since I quit I thought that actually having a drink might be a good thing.

Deciding to get myself sorted, I pumped the soap dispenser, filling my hand with the sweet smelling shower gel and rubbed it all over my body. I was looking pretty good now, I thought as my hands ran down my toned stomach. Getting myself straight and starting exercising again when I was still living on the streets had been good, but getting to exercise in a proper gym, and having the opportunity to swim regularly had been much, much better; just a hint of muscle showing in the stomach, but not the unflattering abs that I'd seen on some of the women I'd served with.

I have no desire to look like a bloke to beat them at 'their own game' I just need to be fighting fit and better than them, and most of the time that's exactly what I was.

I scrubbed the dirt and sweat from my body before soaping it down once more, loving the feeling as the suds lathered up against my, now smooth, skin. I ran my hands down my legs, pausing as my fingers drifted over the rough skin of my bullet wound, still feeling tender after the months of healing. I smiled as I saw the darkening skin where Emily had shot me with that paintball gun the day before; and, as the water pounded against my skin, I thought about Emily, dreamed about her.

Closing my eyes I allowed my hands to roam over my body; imagining for one delightful moment that it was her hands, her lips, that were touching me, fondling me, stroking and squeezing my every sensitive and buzzing part; that it was her that was making love to me in that shower, not me doing it to myself. I lost myself in the illicit fantasy that was me and Emily; recalling how her hands had slipped over my body in my room after a dinner filled with tension between us. How they had strayed across my buttocks as we kissed goodnight, her fingernails scraping the silky material as if proving to herself that what I had said about my lack of underwear was true. As my fingers continued to touch and probe, my mind was filled with how hard she had pulled me to her, how passionately she had kissed me, how I'd wanted to rip the clothes from her back, and how difficult it had been to break us apart and send her into her room before we went too far and couldn't turn back. Despite both of us saying that neither were ready to take our relationship any further just yet; it was getting harder and harder to take it slow…

…and that scares me more than a little.

As the water flowed over my tingling body, my mind was filled with filled with Emily Fitch; how she looked, how she tasted and most of all how she smelt. With the sweet smell of the shower gel filling my nostrils, I realised that it was the faint aroma of this expensive soap I'd smelt on her last night, hidden under the subtle aroma of her perfume. In that glass and tile box I was surrounded by Emily fucking Fitch and I was so turned on I couldn't think of anything else but her.

My orgasm came hard and fast, almost knocking me from my feet; my knees wobbling as I came. I can't remember the last time I had a release like that and I found myself breathing heavily with spots in front of my eyes at it's intensity. It was actually kind of exciting; if fantasy Emily could do that to me, fuck knows what the real thing would do. It was yet another warning to make sure things went slowly, I couldn't afford to be taken off my game like that; not when there was the expo, and the competition and the ever present danger.

Not when she'd booked a trip to fucking Iraq for later in the month; the green zone isn't a place for a lack of concentration, no matter what her contacts had told her.

As my body recovered I reached a shaky arm out to the soap dispenser and pressed the pump, filling the shower with that subtle smell again. Quickly and with almost military efficiency I scrubbed myself down, washing myself clean once again. When the suds were finally rinsed, I stood up and adjusted the jets until they pointing at my frame and stood, doing nothing but allowing the hot water to hammer against my skin. I stayed there for a good few minutes before turning the water off and stepping out of the shower, grabbing the thick warm towel that awaited me.

I took the time to think rationally, as I dried myself off and got dressed, taking advantage of the fact that Emily was off downstairs organising herself something to eat. I couldn't help but think about James' words, the one's that I'd overheard. Had Emily given away too much at dinner, did anyone else know, what the fuck were the Fitch's thinking right now? How much trouble were we in?

I made a little mental note to discuss it with Emily when we had some time to ourselves, perhaps on the drive home tonight. She'd agreed to have dinner with her mother and brother and then we would be leaving. I'd volunteered to stay the hell out of the way and give them some privacy, the honest truth was I couldn't bear the idea of another 'family' dinner; they're nothing like my own were and I'm really not comfortable at them, promise of casual dress again or not.

Family dinners at _chez_ Campbell growing up were nothing like the ones here. All sat around a table while someone poured your peas onto your plate for you. No, family dinners with Mum and me were often chaotic, especially if she had people round to stay, but most of all they were significant, some more than others.

o+o+o

"_Mum, MUM! What the fuck is going on," I yelled above the racket that filled our tiny two up-two down house nestled in the shadow of a tower block. At sixteen years old the last thing you want to come home to is a madhouse. "MUM, WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU?"_

_I snarled at a crusty looking swamp dweller that was looking me up and down like I was a plate of, well probably a quorn and watercress salad or something. "Fuck off creep," I snapped at him, enjoying the shocked face he pulled as I did so._

_"Well excuse me," he replied with the plummiest accent I think I'd ever heard, he sounded like he was straight out of some sort of BBC costume drama. "If you're looking for Gina, she's in the kitchen; it's through there."_

_"I know where the kitchen is you twat, get out of my way." I told him barging past him and shoving my way through the crowd towards the kitchen door. "Mum what the fuck is this shit."_

_"Oh, hello dear," I heard from the corner, and mum's bleached blonde hair appeared in front of me, a broad smile all over her face, "how was school?"_

_"Shit, as always," I told her forcefully. "What's going on mum, why's our house full of wankers?"_

_"Naomi, behave...I've invited a few people back for a bit of a get together to plan out campaign to ask the council to ban smoking in public parks. It is my house, I think I have that right."_

_"Fine, whatever." I said knowing how much her anti-smoking campaign meant to her, but pulling a cigarette from my pocket and putting it into my lips just to annoy her. "Don't expect me to like it though. I'll be in my room."_

_I stormed off, ignoring my mother's attempt to call me back, not caring what bullshit she was about to spout. I was tired of it all, there was nothing that she could say that would interest me; I was fed up to the back teeth with everything and all I wanted was some peace and quiet. I knew I was just being silly and moody and all of that, but I couldn't help myself; the woman constantly pissed me off._

_I pushed open the door to my room, my own little sanctuary, and dropped my bag on the floor; pressing back at the door, as if closing it and barricading it with my body would give me a respite from the voices downstairs. As I opened my eyes I had the shock of my life; there on my bed, on my _fucking_ bed, was a short dumpy brunette breast feeding a baby._

_"Who the fuck are you?" I started glaring at her, "no; actually I don't care who the fuck you are, what the fuck are you doing in my room?"_

_"Hi," the brunette replied cheerfully. "I'm Krystal, this is Efren, we needed a bit of privacy so Efren here could have his lunch; didn't we poppet? So Gina told us we could use this room as it was out of the way."_

_"This is my fucking room..." I said, trying to indicate that I was pissed off at her, her fucking baby and my fucking mother all in one short sentence. I didn't finish it, allowing her to put two and two together. Unfortunately the stupid hippy cow couldn't do simple arithmetic._

_"and it's so nice of you to share it with people. Gina is very lucky to have such a generous daughter. I hope my boy here grows up to be like you."_

_"Share?" I said incredulously, "what the fuck do you mean share?"_

_"Well, I sort of needed somewhere to stay so..."_

_"You're having a fucking laugh," I said, just staring at her and her brat. She looked back, all wide eyed and innocent; I could feel my blood boiling, and I grabbed my bag and my gym bag and headed downstairs. Mum was waiting for me when I reached the foot of the narrow staircase._

_"Where you going love?"_

_"Out," was my harsh reply. I wasn't pulling any punches and I planned to let her know how annoyed I was._

_"But you've only just come home, what about dinner?"_

_"I'll have something later, I'm going to the pool. I don't want to be in this fucking madhouse a moment longer. My room mum, my _fucking_ room. I don't fucking believe you sometimes...I'm fucking sick of all this shit, sick of being picked on because of it."_

_I pushed past her, actually enjoying the sight of her face falling at my reaction. I didn't know what she expected, she knew how it was; knew how I felt. I know it didn't happen often, her flooding our home with dickheads. It was usually only when she was involved in some project or other, some 'important new campaign' that she was working on to change the world for the better; but it didn't matter, not to me. I had enough shit at school without having to put up with it when I got home; I felt anonymous, unwanted and unloved. I didn't have friends at school because of her and her antics, and all I had was my swimming, my exercise, and my room, and she'd just given that away._

_It was much, much later when I got home; spending my early evening hitting the weights and then swimming length after purifying length in the pool. I was feeling much calmer, but I knew it wouldn't last; knew that the moment I opened the door to that madhouse that I'd start screaming inside my head all over again. Knew that then the bitchiness would start once more, along with the harsh words and the cruelty that had marked the last few years; I couldn't help it, it was just how I dealt with the pain._

_I could feel my chest contract as I slipped the key into the lock and twisted slowly; easing open the door, hoping that I would be able to slip past the collective and up to my room. Hoping against hope that fucking Krystal would be out of my room, and her fucking baby along with her, so I could have a few more moments of peace._

"_Is that you love?" I heard as I eased the door closed, the silence in the house surprising me. Mum's head appeared at the kitchen door smiling at me, "I've saved you some dinner, come and sit down."_

_I could hear the East Ender's theme tune playing on the tiny black and white television we kept in the kitchen and wondered if someone had nicked the one in the living room, again. I carried my bags into the kitchen, as mum turned off the telly, and placed them by the door; not failing to notice that there seemed to be no-one else around._

"_What happened to the party?" I asked as I sat down on my favourite battered old chair, the one with the broken arm, the one I always sat on. Mum slid a plate of sausages and mash under my nose and poured gravy all over it; she knew it was one of my favourite meals and I couldn't help my nose twitching interestedly as it betrayed the indifferent look I had plastered onto my face when I walked in._

"_They've all gone," Mum said sitting down opposite me, in her usual chair. "I asked them to leave a while ago. Now what's this about being picked on love?"_

"_It's not important," I told her, stabbing at my mash with a fork, mixing the gravy into it angrily._

"_Yes it is," mum said, a hint of firmness drifting into her voice. "If it wasn't love you wouldn't have said it, so talk to me."_

_I took a few minutes to eat, cutting up my sausage and smothering it with the gravy enriched mash. I wasn't really that hungry, no matter how good it tasted, I was really just looking to kill time, and hope mum would take the hint and leave me alone. Unfortunately it looked like she wasn't going to bite._

"_I know what you're doing Naomi, and it's not going to work this time. I'm not leaving until you tell me what you meant by 'being picked on'."_

_I chewed my mouthful of food slowly, staring at her through hooded eyes; I wasn't happy but I was cornered, I guess I only had myself to blame._

"_You know what I mean," I said finally after swallowing and taking a sip of the water that mum poured for me. "I told you all about it."_

"_Naomi that was years ago, you never said it was still going on."_

"_What the fuck did you think was going on?" I snapped at her, feeling all the repressed emotions bubbling to the surface. "Why the fuck do you think I've got no friends, why the fuck do you think I spend all my time here or at the gym? I fucking hate living here, everyone's so fucking snobby and they think you're a freak. I get picked on every fucking day because of you and I hate it, I really fucking hate it."_

"_Why do people think I'm a freak?" Mum asked soberly, the daft grin that affixed her face falling into a frown._

"_Because of all this," I said gesturing at the posters the adorned the walls of our kitchen, "because of the protesting, the anti-smoking lobbying, the weird people that come back here…because we're not a rich as the other kids parents, because they say you haven't got a proper job, their parents tell them to avoid me because you let me do what the fuck I like and they keep telling me you don't care about me. I'm 'Naomi the loser', 'Naomi no mum', I'm nothing but the school fucking freak; I fucking hate it mum, I fucking hate living here and I hate putting up with this shit."_

_I was crying, the tears falling into the brown mess that was covering my plate. Mum was looking at me in horror, mortification all over her face. She moved around the table and knelt, dragging me into a warm embrace, the type of hug that I remembered from my youth, the type of hug I hadn't had for years._

"_Oh love, I had no idea things were that bad; they really pick on you because of me?"_

_I nodded, sniffing, knowing that I had made things worse, but that it had all started because of her and her somewhat alternative lifestyle in a place where being different wasn't acceptable._

"_You know I love you don't you Naomi," she said softly, stroking my hair with her hand, her touch gentle and calming._

"_I don't know that at all Mum," I told her honestly, "I've not been sure since you got involved in all this shit; you used to love me, then you went all weird and everything changed._

"_I went all weird?" she asked sadly. "You mean when I got back into politics?"_

"_I guess so, you started doing all this in your spare time and you never had any time for me any more….and then everyone started to pick on me because we're different, because everything that people think is normal around here isn't you. I mean look at me, I don't have any curfews, you never tell me not to do something, or ask me why I'm home late or anything; it's like you care about your causes than you do me."_

_Mum pulled me to her chest and kissed my forehead, I could feel her tears dripping onto my head as she held me before her soft voice, sounding so heartbroken at my words, echoed around the empty room. I felt so guilty for what I was doing, but it was more than time for me to express everything I'd been holding inside for the last few years._

"_Naomi love; Naomi look at me," she said leaning back and putting her hands on my cheeks. "My causes are important to me, of course they are, but they mean nothing next to you." Mum leaned forward and kissed me on the forehead tenderly before leaning back once more and looking me straight in the eyes._

"_All I've ever done is because I love you Naomi dear; all those things your friends may tease you for, I did them because I love you. I wanted you to be able to spread your wings and find yourself; which is something I never got to do when I was your age."_

_She let go of my face and pulled over a chair, sitting down and holding my hands earnestly. "My parents were very restrictive when I was young love, and I rebelled against them horribly. Everything they told me not to do, I went out and did. When I met your father they hated him instantly and that made me want him all the more." She sighed sadly, her eyes unfocussed, "they were proven right not long later though, when I found myself pregnant with you. He didn't stick around after I told him, my parents disowned me and we were off on our own."_

_She sighed, and squeezed my hands, "I promised you when you were born that I wouldn't be like my parents, that I'd love you for who you are not who I wanted you to be; and that, when you were old enough to, I would allow you the freedom to discover yourself in your own time. Looks like that backfired on me didn't it?"_

"_Yeah," I said not sugaring the pill, "I always felt the opposite. It always felt like you didn't care."_

"_I've always cared love, I've cared for you from the moment I found that I was pregnant with you; I'm sorry if you never felt that, sorry if my love for you has caused you pain."_

"_It wasn't your love Mum, it was that I thought you'd abandoned me, thought you'd stopped loving me because I was a bitch."_

"_I could never stop loving you Naomi, never! You're my pride and joy, and you always have been."_

_Mum and I talked for hours after that revelation, sorting out our confused and convoluted relationship. At the end, when we were far too emotionally drained to continue, was when I decided to pull my head out of my arse; the fighting had gone on for far too long and I knew it was time for a truce._

"_I do love you mum," I told her seriously. "I know I've been a bit of a shit, but I really do love you."_

"_I've never doubted it love, not once. Now," she said smiling and kissing my cheek tenderly. "If you're still hungry dear would you like me to make you a sandwich ? I'm pretty sure that dinner is ruined?"_

_I couldn't help but laugh at the bizarre normalness of her question; after a few seconds Mum started to laugh along with me. We sat at that battered old table and laughed, and laughed together._

_It was a start._

o+o+o

I was lost in my memory of that turning point in my life, that significant meal where so much changed; the meal when I found my best friend again, that I almost didn't hear the door open until Emily was already in the room and my nose was twitching at the smell of food.

"Hey you," I said quickly without turning.

"Hey, I thought I was being quiet."

"You were," I replied, smiling. "I've got good hearing."

"You were miles away babe," Emily said sitting down net to me and putting the plate down on my lap; wrapping her arm around my waist. "Good shower?"

"Really good," I said; thinking back. "I feel much better following it."

"Good," Emily said resting her head on my shoulder, "I brought you some lunch up; seeing as you've been up here for ages."

"Thanks, I'm starving," I said; picking up the crusty sub roll and taking a large bite, enjoying the flavour of the hot mustard that had been liberally applied to the warm beef. I might not relish the idea of sitting down and eating with the Fitch's, but I loved their food; it really was something special, even a humble sandwich tasted as good as if it had been cooked for the Queen

"Good?" she asked as I sighed in pleasure, placing her hand on my thigh and squeezing slightly, jumping slightly as I winced as she squeezed my wound.

"Yeah, delicious," I replied casually, trying to ignore the ache in both my scar, and elsewhere, at her touch.

"Won't you reconsider tonight Nomi? Come and have dinner with us again, Dad and Katie won't be there it'll be nice."

It was tempting, Rob had been a pain in the arse last night at dinner, simply by trying to make me guest of fucking honour; and Katie and her husband had been a pain because Gareth is, without a doubt, the sleaziest piece of shit it's ever been my misfortune to meet…and I was best mates with a bloke we called the 'goat-fucker'.

"You need time with your family Ems, time alone without distractions." I told her eventually, shaking my head. "Trust me, I know how important that is."

She stared at me solemnly as I took another bite of my sandwich and chewed happily. "You're not a distraction Nomi," Emily said finally, a wonderful smile lighting up her face. "Well you are, but only a nice one. Come to dinner with me, I really want you there."

"Thanks," I said swallowing and grinning back; "but no, I've a few things to sort out with the boys, and I might have a nap before I have to drive us back to London."

"Please, for me?"

I shook my head, my mouth full of the remains of my sandwich, chewing quickly so I could swallow and reply; my mum having taught me manners that had survived my spell in both the Army, and on the streets of London. "Ems, trust me on this; spend time with your family while you can, we'll be away for a while and the more time you can spend with your mum the better. Besides," I added reaching down and patting her hand, "I'm getting to be a bit tired of seeing you this weekend, and I could do with a bit of a break."

"Bitch," was the playful response that made me smile even more.

"Seriously though Ems, spend some time with your family, you won't regret it, we'll have plenty of time together on the drive home."

"You sure? Mum will be very disappointed, as will James I think; he's quite your little fan."

"Well, I can totally understand that," I told her, "I am brilliant after all." I got a wry smile and a flick on the nose for my troubles.

"James just wants you to teach him how to shoot, I'm sure he thinks it will impress the girls back at Uni."

"You sure that's all he wants me to do to him?" I asked raising a eyebrow suggestively.

"Yeah well, that's tough isn't it," Emily said, "there's only one Fitch you're allowed to be romantically involved with."

"Does Katie know this yet?" I asked, getting the aggrieved squeal and the amused slap I was hoping for.

"I'm positive Gareth will be very pleased at my relationship with Katie!" I remarked laughing at her as she hit me again and again as I pushed the joke further. Actually as jokes go there was probably a lot of truth to it; when I thought back to the numerous propositions and suggestions Gareth Fitch-Brace had made as 'jokes' during the evening. 'Jokes' that I'd bitten my lip at rather than give them the response they deserved.

"Will you stop teasing me Nomi," Emily said pushing the plate to the floor and straddling my lap, leaning forward to kiss me tenderly on the lips. "I'm sure there are better things we could be doing right now than talking about my brother-in-law and my sister."

"Emily," I said warningly, "we agreed to be careful, what if someone walks in?"

"It's ok Nomi," she said kissing me again, "it's not as if I was planning to pin you to my sisters old bed and shag you senseless."

I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed as I slipped my hands under her t-shirt and up the smooth skin of her back.

"Besides," she said smiling, our lips touching as she spoke. "I've locked the door."

"Oh," I said running my hands down to her buttocks, cupping them and pulling her into me; dragging my broken nails down her skin as I did so.

"Good!"

.

.

.

**Authors Note **– OK so I said I had a good excuse for being a bit late with this. Well I do if you count a 48K Naomily story set in post-apocalypse England as an excuse! I'm told it's a good read and well worth it taking over my head for 15 days, the only bad thing is I wrote it for the Skins Big Bang over on livejournal so you won't get to see it until September…sorry if that's a tease.

Still by September I might have had time to write the second part of it, so you can read even more (-:

Hope you enjoyed this chapter, I also hope that this gets easier to write!


	40. Moments of Revelation, Moments of

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness, a heavy case of writers block and a really bust working life right now!

Still nothing to do with Skins, (but then do we care about Skins any more? Well until that Gen 2 Movie appears anyway).

**Authors Note **– Hello again, right I'm back after finding that my computer had killed a weeks worth of work on Postcards from Paradise (yes I AM still writing that, the Dragons saga is still alive and kicking). I gave up and started writing chapter 40. As you can tell it got away from me as I tried to get to where I needed to be; hope you don't mind.

It's one of my "5" chapters so it better be important eh? Even if I am feeling rusty and this is probably as 'clunky' as all hell…ah well never mind; enjoy!

**Chapter 40 - Moments of Revelation, Moments of Realisation, Moments of Change.**

"Fucking hell Emsy, I can't believe the big bad bodyguard is scared of flying."

"Shut up Katie."

I gripped the edge of my seat as the engines of the huge plane revved up and we began to taxi out onto the runway in preparation for our flight. I was actually quite pleased that Katie was trying to wind me up, it made a nice distraction from the fear that had hold of my stomach with an iron fist, an iron fist that had spent the last few hours dipped in liquid nitrogen. Katie had been extremely amused to discover my little paranoia, my nerves betraying my attempts at staying cool. Still, I did have some teeth left in my head, and I was prepared to use them to defend myself; client or no client.

"Did you know that you're more likely to crash when you're taking off and landing than at any other point in your journey Mrs Fitch-Brace," I said grimacing as the plane sped up and then stopped, waiting at the end of the runway like a rollercoaster preparing it's victims for the big drop.

"What?" Katie said looking around at me, the smile dropping from her face.

"Oh yes, there are microbursts and downdraughts and all sorts of things like that, not to mention the chance of collision. Each and every one of them are positively lethal at that point in the flight, there simply wouldn't be enough time for the pilot to save us. We could be dead in a second and there would be nothing we could do about it, it would be over too fast; we wouldn't stand a chance."

I got an irritated elbow from Emily, sat in the window seat next to me, as Katie turned back and pulled her lap belt that little bit tighter. My colleague Tim, who had been assigned to shadow Katie, leaned around his seat on the aisle side and surreptitiously winked at me.

I heard Emily start to say something to me, but it was interrupted by the roar of the jet engines as the plane began to roll faster and faster down the runway. As I gripped even tighter on the armrest I felt my right hand covered by Emily's left as she looked excitedly out of her window; the soft skin of her hand pressing down on mine, newly freed from the plaster cast that had frustrated her for weeks. Naturally her doctor had insisted on a wrist brace, even more naturally Emily was refusing to wear it, despite my requests. Right now I was glad of her obstinacy, the warmth of her tiny hand giving me something to concentrate on other than the fear of the takeoff

"You ok Naomi?" she asked as I clenched my eyes tightly together. I couldn't reply, my mind was replaying the flight out of Bastion and the pain that the takeoff and landing caused my broken body, despite the medication. As the speed increased I felt my heart racing in my chest it's pace seemingly matching the aircrafts velocity, until, with a stomach churning lurch, we took off and headed for the skies. I put everything I had into the breathing exercises that Joanna had taught me, reaching out for my safe place with all my might. Happily it was made easy for me with Emily's close proximity, and I found it simpler than I'd imagined to immerse myself in that cool blue mental water and channel my mind away from the flight.

It wasn't long before my heart rate began to drop and the black dots that floated in front of my closed eyes began to fade. As I opened them once more, I felt Emily hand pat mine and I looked across to see her staring at me. "Worst bit over," she said confidently; I nodded in reply, not meaning it at all. Unfortunately, I knew for me, the worst was yet to come, at the other end of the journey.

"You ok now?" she said, finally smiling and making me feel better almost immediately.

"Getting there," I replied breathing in and out slowly. "Be ok in a minute."

The torturous climb into the heavens continued for an endless moment, the engines screaming as we powered through the clouds leaving England far beneath us. Finally, I felt the cold grip on my stomach ease as we began to level out for normal flight.

"How are you doing over there Katie?" Emily asked giggling at the sound of retching from the seat in front of us.

"Mrs Fitch-Brace is otherwise engaged Miss Fitch." Tim said, turning in his seat to look through the gap at her. "I don't believe she is feeling very well."

"No, she doesn't sound well at all," I said finally regaining the ability to speak as the engines throttled back into our high altitude cruise; I was interrupted by the sound of bongs from the cabin speakers, sending some secret coded messages to the cabin crew.

"That's probably your fault you know?" Emily said quietly, leaning across the luxurious seat towards me. I stared back at her impassively, too caught up in my own worries to care. "I'm kidding, but only just, she's not actually that good in planes…or boats actually. She's shit at travelling actually."

"I can totally fucking hear you Emily; you could always do me a favour and go fuck yourself," Katie said from the seat in front of her sister; the rest of her abuse lost as she retched again.

"It's not my fault you get travel sick and I don't Katie," Emily said, nudging me with an elbow. "She's been puking her lungs up like that every time we've travelled since we were six. Anyway screw her, how are _you_ feeling now?"

"I'll be ok," I said hoping that I sounded more confident than I felt right at that moment.

"You never did tell me by the way," Ems whispered.

"Tell you what?" I replied as quietly, knowing somehow exactly what she meant.

"December," she said moving her hand from mine and resting it on my thigh. "When we were waiting for the helicopter to mine that time; you said you'd been scared of flying since December. You never said why."

"No, I didn't did I?" I said evasively staring at the screen in the back of Tim's seat, concentrating on the facts and figures of our journey it was currently displaying; suddenly fascinated by our airspeed, position over England and the external temperature.

"It's ok Naomi, if you don't want to share," she replied sounding more like fucking Joanna Foster than Emily Fitch, which didn't surprise me that much; apart from the fact that we'd agreed that she'd leave 'therapist Emily' at home whenever we were together and leave the headfucking to Joanna.

"There nothing much to share Emily," I said quietly, trying not to let Katie and Tim overhear our conversation. "Thought I told you, my last trip in a plane wasn't a very good one, coming back from Afghanistan that is."

"No," she said thoughtfully, "you mentioned coming back injured; I don't think you ever mentioned the fear of flying with it though."

"Yeah, well my flight back wasn't a good one," I repeated as her fingers wrapped around mine. "Far too long, far too uncomfortable and far too much pain. We didn't have a very good landing either. Once bitten twice shy you know?"

"Understandable, are you going to be ok with all this? We're going to be doing a lot of flying over the next few months."

"I'll be fine Emily," I replied staring at the back of Katie's seat. "I'm the big, bad bodyguard after all."

"Yeah but…"

The pilots voice came over the cabin speakers, rescuing me for what would be probably the briefest of moments, Emily Fitch was a tenacious creature when she wanted something; her tireless hunting down of me was proof of that. In the end I was surprised when she didn't continue the interrogation after the cabin crew started their endless wandering around business class. Instead she simply ordered drinks for the four of us that were travelling together; and then, after a while, settled back in her seat like a seasoned flyer, putting on her headphones and closing her eyes. Around me the other passengers started to do the same, the little overhead lights going off all around me, shrouding the cabin in shadows.

I took a sip of my Pepsi and sat back myself, jiggling the sleeping pill, that Emily's doctor had given me, in my hand. I really didn't want to take it, I'd always hated taking things like that, but the idea of sweet oblivion throughout the rest of this flight sounded good to me.

"Why don't you put a film on or something Naomi," Emily said from beside me and I glanced over to see her smile at me and nod at the pill in my hand. "Try relaxing for a bit, not like there's anyone to keep an eye on up here; I think I'm safe. See if you can't just enjoy the chance to chill out and then try to go to sleep naturally. We have been up for fucking ages after all."

We had been as well, due to the fucked up schedule we were operating to we were taking the red-eye to New York where we would be picked up and taken to the hotel we were staying at. Unfortunately the red-eye meant that Emily and Katie had time for work and last minute shopping before we headed for Heathrow and our flight. We were leaving on a half past midnight flight and landing at about half past eight in the morning our time. However, that did mean it was going to be about half three US time that we landed about twenty four hours after I'd got up. My system was going to be utterly fucked at this rate, and it was feeling pretty bad as it was.

"I was hoping to take a nap myself," Emily continued, "but I don't want to sleep too long. That way I can get some sleep when we get to the hotel and still be fresh for my lunch meeting. Is Cook still taking you to his gun club tomorrow afternoon?"

I nodded, "yeah, he insisted on picking us up from the airport as well. I told him that between Tim and me, you and Katie would be ok; but oh no, that's not good enough for James Cook."

"You sound like your feeling a little bit offended there Naomi," Emily said teasing me. "Most unlike you."

"I told him that he shouldn't come out to meet us, that we could get a cab or hire a car or something, but he insisted. Hope he hasn't got anything as silly as that convertible of his over here, or me and Tim are walking to the hotel."

"Cook has a convertible?" Emily said, taking a sip of her drink and sniggering. "Actually that's so him isn't it? I thought he'd have a big truck like yours, but I can totally see him with a sports car."

"Yeah," I said smiling, thinking back to my one and only trip in his BMW; "he's quite fond of it as well, didn't shut up about it on my first day."

"Poor you," Emily said smiling and leaning her head back into the headrest of the plush seat. "I'm sure you were heartbroken. I mean, it's not as if you even like cars is it?" she added sarcastically.

"Yeah, well I was kind of distracted at the time. I'd just been attacked on the streets and found out that Effy wasn't really a client, just Cook's girlfriend."

"Busy day;" she joked, closing her eyes once more. "Effy said you were quite violent."

"Yeah, I don't think she likes me, not after I hit her fucking brother anyway. Like I was supposed to know who he was!"

"She does you know," Emily said a yawn punctuating her words. "Like you that is; well I think she does, she spoke very highly of you when they stayed at ours anyway."

"I'm not really bothered about what she thinks of me Emily. She was a package then, now she's my bosses girlfriend; doesn't really affect me if she loves me or hates me."

"You're such a hard ass aren't you Naomi," Emily joked, reaching up to turn off her cabin light.

"Yeah, I guess I am." I replied smiling a and relaxing for the first time since I'd sat down. "I'm sure it suits me though."

"Go to sleep Nomi," Emily said, forgetting our deal of no pet names in public; thankfully no-one in front of us seemed to notice. "Or at least try to," she added, resting her hand on my leg and squeezing gently.

I settled back and plugged in my headphones into the seat, flicking through the channels on the tiny screen looking for something to divert my attention. After half an hour of flicking back and forth between music and movies I gave up, reached up to my cabin light and tried to let myself sleep.

I woke an hour and a half later, almost to the minute. My right arm was feeling quite numb and I looked down to see Emily, fast asleep, leaning her head against it. I watched her as she slept, muttering to herself softly; her lips moving without a sound coming out. I grinned and settled back in my seat carefully, trying not to disturb her. As I looked up at the screen I saw a pair of brown eyes staring at me from the seats in front, Katie Fitch-Brace was looking at me appraising.

"Comfortable?" she asked, her voice cool.

"Not really," I replied carefully.

"Good," Katie replied, sitting back into her seat, her all too familiar face vanishing from view. I allowed myself a small sigh of relief at her reaction, before being alarmed by a loud intake of breath and the sudden appearance of her eyes between the seats once more.

"I'm not fucking stupid Campbell, that is my sister and I know her better than anyone else, as much as neither of us like to admit it. I know what she is up to, what _you're_ up to; I also know what she's like and how hard she can fall; fuck _her_ up and I'll fuck _you_ up," she said coldly, her eyes flicking between me and her sleeping sister. "Don't think I won't!"

She held my calm and collected look for a few, long, seconds before smirking unpleasantly and vanishing once more.

"I think you can call that a blessing babe," Emily's low voice said from my side as she snuggled further into my arm and reached out a hand to take mine.

"Call it what you like," Katie said without turning back towards us, "I call it a warning though. Now shut up, I want to go to sleep."

I looked down at Emily, who's tired eyes blinked back up at me. "Sounds like a plan," she said twisting her head and kissing my arm before nuzzling in and closing her eyes again.

I had to admit, she was absolutely right.

o+o+o

"Naomikins!" James Cook's voice echoed across the arrivals hall as we walked out into vast space, tired eyes staring into the harsh light. I raised an arm in salute only to be wrapped up in a gigantic bear hug.

"Jesus Naomi, you look like you've been ridden hard and put away wet; rough flight?"

"Rough landing James," Emily said, disentangling herself from Effy and getting a hug from my boss. "You know Naomi doesn't like flying, well she likes landing even less."

"Yeah well, I have my reasons," I replied shortly. I'd napped for another hour after Katie's little revelation, but I'd been awake for far longer than I'd like and I was hoping that my hotel room wasn't too far away.

"Nice to see you too," Elizabeth Stonem said, holding out her hand to me. "Welcome to America. Please excuse James' enthusiasm, he's been pumped up for this little reunion all day."

She looked across at her boyfriend affectionately as he pulled the twins towards him, one in each arm and led them away. "That, and a few other things, have been making him quite excited for days."

"Is that right?" I replied yawning and grabbing hold of the trolley that held our bags.

"Oh yes," Effy replied falling in step besides me as I followed James and the twins; Tim trailing behind us guarding the rear. "Though I suspect you'd understand; I hear a rumour that someone has been making you smile recently."

She stared at Emily's back pointedly, before looking back at me.

"No idea what you mean" I said, my poker face in full effect. Effy merely raised a knowing eyebrow at me in response.

"Really?"

"Really." I said flatly, ending the conversation there. Effy smiled knowingly and quickened her pace, skipping up to Cook and placing her hands on his shoulders.

"Hey little darlin'" Cook said, dropping the twins and turning to wrap her in a hug. "Ladies, let me introduce you to the future Mrs James Alouicious Cook."

"You got engaged?" Emily squealed, wrapping her arms around the entwined couple. "Congratulations!"

"Yes, congratulations boss, Miss Stonem," I said, getting a wink and a broad smile from a happy looking Cook.

"Time for this later James," Effy said hurriedly as if embarrassed by the attention. "We should get these guys to their hotel before they fall asleep on their feet."

It was strange, but Effy seemed very reticent about the whole thing. I would have thought as a minor celebrity she would have been lauding in the moment, soaking up the adulation she was receiving; instead she seemed to want to shrink away, hide herself and avoid the attention.

I hoped it wasn't a bad thing, for Cook's sake.

As we walked outside the humidity hit me like a smack in the face. Despite the late hour it still gripped you, you could taste it in the air; the all pervading, all infusing sense of warm dampness; like you were living in a shower. I hated it, at least in the desert it was a dry heat; most of the time anyway.

Within a few short minutes we were packed and tucked up in the large people carrier that Cook had brought to take us all to the hotel in. The journey was strangely quiet, Emily and Effy chatting intermittently as we drove through the night. I was sat in the back, next to a snoring Katie; her head falling onto my shoulder as she slept. I noticed Emily smiling at me as she chatted and I looked down at Katie before looking back, rolling my eyes dramatically.

"This should be your job Tim," I told my colleague, who simply grinned in reply. If I looked bad, Tim was looking worse; I can only imagine the running around Katie had put him through in the previous 24 hours. It had been bad enough with Emily on the run up to leaving; meetings and packing and everything else taking up our time. Despite my nap on the plane, I was feeling like shit and looking forward to my bed; wherever it was.

Thirty five minutes later we pulled into the covered canopy of the expensive looking hotel and piled out of the people carrier, dragging our luggage from the back. I was surprised to see Cook taking a couple of bags out of the car and hand his keys over to a valet.

"Effy and I thought we'd stay for a couple of days as well Naomi," he said to my raised eyebrow. "It's a lot more convenient here, and we thought it would be nice to stay with y'all for a while."

"Oh," I replied yawning, wishing we could hurry up and go inside so we could get through the rigmarole of checking in before I collapsed.

"You ok Naomikins?" Cook asked, taking my bag from my hand and throwing it onto a trolley Tim had appeared with.

"I'm fine boss, I've just had about two hours sleep in the last twenty four hours that's all. I'm just tired, I'll be fine once I've had some shut eye."

"Well, lets get you guys checked in before everyone else collapses as well," Cook said nodding over my shoulder. I turned to see the twins sat, leaning against each other on a sofa in reception, both looking like they were fast asleep.

"Yeah boss, that sounds like a plan," I said dragging my tired ass inside. "A really good fucking plan."

o+o+o

"Morning Nomi," Emily said brightly as I walked out of the bathroom after a long hot shower to see her sat on the end of my bed. "How you feeling?"

"Like someone has kicked me in the head. You?"

"About the same, I'm starving as well, _and_ we've missed fucking breakfast."

"That doesn't sound good, you're a total bitch when you're hungry." I said towelling my hair dry.

"Yeah, and you're a total bitch when you're tired," she replied smiling up at me. "Did you get some sleep?"

"After I put you to bed I did, I got to sleep about half-four."

"You put me to bed?" Emily asked sheepishly, "I wondered how I got there; what happened?"

"We checked in, you and Katie fell asleep in reception. Cook thought it would be better not to wake either of you, so Tim and Effy took Katie, and James and I took you."

"I hope it wasn't James that took off my clothes and tucked me in," Emily said smirking at me.

"I'm sorry to say he didn't seem interested," I told her, sitting on the bed and towelling dry my toes. "So I had to do it."

"You put me into bed, in my underwear and you didn't join me Nomi," Emily said nudging me with her shoulder. "I'm very disappointed in you."

"Yeah, well for one we're supposed to be being careful and not getting caught; though it seems like every member of your family knows," I said, adding the jibe probably a little ungraciously; "and for another, we're also _supposed_ to be taking things slow." "Finally, " I said patting the white sheets of the large hotel bed; "this was calling my name from the second I saw it. Anyway, how long have we got before your meeting? Do we have time to stop for food?"

"Yeah, if you get ready quickly," she said jumping off the bed and heading to the other room in our little suite. "I'll call James and let him know we'll be ready in a bit."

o+o+o

We met up with the others in the reception area, Katie Fitch-Brace being noticeable by her absence; both James and Emily looking at their watches as they paced back and forth across the carpeted floor impatiently as we stood waiting for our car and Katie.

"Where the fuck is she?" Emily said finally, as it became patently obvious Katie wasn't going to appear any time soon; our deadline for leaving having well and truly been and gone. Within moments I was on the courtesy phone to her room, listening to the phone ring out as Emily ranted about her sisters behaviour.

"What?" came the short reply, after the phone had rung for what felt like five minutes.

"Mrs Fitch-Brace," I said formally. "Miss Fitch is wondering where you are, she is waiting to leave for your meeting."

"_Her _meeting Campbell, it's fuck all to do with me. Now fuck off and let me sleep so I'm ready for tonight's gala event. I am not turning up with bags under my fucking eyes."

I bristled at her inconsideration as the phone went dead in my hand, I placed the handset down onto the receiver and received a glare from Ems.

"She's not coming is she?" It wasn't really a question; I shook my head in reply, waiting for the fireworks.

"What did she say exactly?"

I could hear the cold fury billowing through Emily's voice, the bitch that had been held in check for a few days coming finally to the surface. I knew whatever I said would probably light the touch paper, and opted for nothing but the raw truth.

"She said _what? _The fucking_ bitch._" Emily exploded before the words had finished falling from my mouth. "I will _kill_ her, give me five minutes James; I'm going to drag her down here by her hair."

"She won't come Emily," I said softly, placing my hand on her shoulder; "and you know we don't have time for this. Do you really need her for the meeting anyway?"

"That's _not_ the fucking point."

"I know hun," I said soothingly, trying to calm her and stop her making any more of a scene; she was already getting angry looks from the team on reception. "But you're used to it aren't you? You don't need her, she'd just be a liability; you've said it a dozen times."

"That's _still_ not the point Nomi," she said quietly, "she's supposed to be helping me here, it's not a fucking holiday we're on."

"I get that Ems, but you know what she's like. You've always known, why is it such a big deal today?"

"Because what happens today could be the biggest thing to happen to Fitch Industries babes; because my deal last month was a start, it was an 'in' to the big time."

"Big time?"

"Yeah, big time. Major league stuff. I've been working on this deal for the last year and a half. The deal with the Border Security Force, that was the prelude; I'm trying to get a supply deal with the whole fucking Indian Army."

"Jesus Emily," I said utterly flabbergasted.

"Yeah, it's pretty exciting. A deal like this could put Dad right on top of the map, business wise. Might even give me a chance to get the fuck out of this shitty fucking industry; if Dad had that kind of deal behind him, he'll be made for life, and then hopefully I can leave and do something _I_ want to do."

"That's great Ems," I said without meaning it, a ball forming in the pit of my stomach. I caught James' eye as I led Emily out of the hotel and into the waiting people carrier; he looked at me quizzically and I tilted my head. After closing the door on Ems, I followed Cook around the back of the car, using the opportunity to grab a quick word.

"We need to talk Boss," I hissed as we rounded the car. Cook didn't say a word, merely raising his eyebrow and nodding; opening the side door for me. As I slipped into the back seat with Emily I could feel the pressure, and I longed for a chance to talk it out.

o+o+o

"So what's up Naomikins?" Cook said chewing on a snack bar he'd bought from a vending machine. I'd escorted Emily to her meeting room, checking the place was safe and secure before nodding professionally at Emily and her guests, leaving and closing the door behind me. Taking up my usual position guarding the doorway.

"Did you hear anything this morning?"

"Well apart from you and Emilio having a domestic, nothing my dear." His grin practically bisecting his face. "Glad you took my advice Naomi, I very much doubt you'll regret it; from what Effy tells me you guys are very good together."

"How the fuck does Effy know anything about me and Emily," I said, forgetting momentarily about the pressing matter at hand. "She said she'd heard a 'rumour'."

I realised my mistake as his grin broadened into a genuine smile, "So she was right then? She never fails does my Effy, she can read people like a book you know?"

"Obviously," I said simply, "or she spent the drive to the hotel talking to Emily."

"Well that might be true as well, " he said taking another bite of his snack. "So Naomi, what's the problem?"

"Emily told me that she's in meetings today to start supplying weapons to the Indian armed forces."

"Naomi, I hate to bring you to the party a little late, but that's what started all this shit in the first place; and gave me the best deal of my life."

I gave him my best 'don't fuck with me I'm a Sergeant' look and smirked as he blinked and tilted his head. "OK, so you knew that already. Come on Campbell, spill, what the fuck's going on, and why do I need to know about it?"

I leaned back against the wall and recounted what Emily had told me that morning, Cook's face falling inch by inch as I explained. Finally he let out a long sigh and wrapped up the remains of his snack bar and tossed it into a nearby bin.

"We're going to have to go and talk to JJ about this," he said seriously, the cheeky smile and joking demeanour gone in a second. "The girls should be safe over here, but when they're back home, well that's a different matter."

"I'm not going anywhere James," I told him, steel forming in my voice. "_You_ go talk to JJ and put the UK team on alert, I'm not letting Emily out of my sight. Get Tim on the phone as well, tell him he's not to let Katie out of his sight either."

James eyed me sympathetically and I snorted in disgust. "It's not like that Cook," I told him sternly. "This is all business."

"Just business?" he replied raising an eyebrow.

"No James," I sighed, admitting defeat, "not _just_ business, there might be more to my motivation than just business; but it doesn't make my plans any less valid. I would give the same orders if Emily and I weren't…"

"…involved?" James finished as I struggled for a word that would describe Emily and I.

"Yeah," I said accepting it, "if Emily and I weren't involved. You know I'm right James, better safe than sorry."

"You're right Naomikins, you don't have to convince me; I'm not one for taking risks for no reason, not when my reputation, and someone else's life, is on the line anyway. Give me an hour or so," He said looking at his watch, "I'll go call JJ now and discuss it, I should just catch him before he leaves the office."

"James, it's after seven in the evening in the UK," I told him glancing at my own watch, a present from Emily that she'd bought me from the duty free shop at Heathrow.

"Exactly," Cook said grinning, "you know JJ is a sad fucker that works too hard. This way I can put him on alert and bollock him for not being at home with Lara and my godson. It's a win-win situation for me."

"Play nicely James," I admonished him with a smile. "Don't pick on the LT, he's a good bloke…for an officer."

"He's one of the best Naomi, that's why I poached him when he was looking to leave the Army. He also brought me you so…"

He winked at me and grinned, "I'll catch you in an hour or so and when you're ready to leave I'll take you to my club, I've arranged a private part of the range for you to practice on, and I believe Emily's shipped some goodies over for you to play with. I have to say though blondie, I'm looking pretty good, I really don't think you're going to win that bet."

"We'll see," I said shrugging my shoulders at him noncommittally. "I haven't handled a real gun since Afghanistan, so you might be right."

Cook smiled again and sauntered off, whistling cheerily, "Then again, you might not be," I muttered as his back disappeared around the corner, my fingers twitching at the thought of the game. "You might not be right at all."

o+o+o

The sun was baking down on the car as Cook drove us away from the convention centre, that we had made our base of operations, and out into suburbia towards his range. Emily had insisted that we stop off at the hotel to get changed from our smart clothes into something more suitable. To my surprise we'd bumped into Tim and Katie as they were leaving, Emily spotting her sister as we crossed the car park and making a beeline for her.

It hadn't gone well.

I sat in the back of Cooks car with my seething girlfriend trying to emit an aura of calm and quiet as she bubbled inside. I held her hand as we drove, Emily having grabbed at it the moment I'd clicked my seat belt into place. I'd shushed Cook with a glare as I noticed him about to say something, and we drove the next half hour in near silence.

"I'm going to need that intact Ems," I said quietly as she gripped my left hand tightly, crushing the fingers. "Unless James has bribed you to injure me before we start."

"Huh?" Ems said turning towards me and blinking.

"My hand hun," I told her and she looked down as if suddenly realising what she was doing.

"Shit, sorry babe," she said releasing my hand allowing me to flex the fingers to get the life back into them. "It's Katie, she's got me a bit annoyed."

"I'd noticed," I said sitting back in my seat. "I think calling her a 'stuck up, self absorbed, bone idle, scrawny fucking bitch' was what gave it away."

"It was really impressive though Emily," James announced from up front. "You totally owned her on that car park."

"The truth hurts James," Emily said, obviously still fuming. "She _is_ a selfish cow, it's just as well Nomi was there otherwise I might actually have killed her…'had to get a fucking manicure' indeed…bitch."

"Emily," I said softly, "professional remember?"

"Sorry babe," she whispered back. "I forgot."

"Don't mind me ladies," Cook said, twisting in his seat to look back at us. "I am the soul of discretion; nice to see you finally caught her Emily dear."

"Thanks James," Emily said squeezing my leg. "It's nice not to have to pretend for a change."

"We still need to keep things professional Emily," I said, gesturing at James to watch the road. "bit of decorum and all that. Let's not lose the habit ok?"

"Fucking hell blondie, you don't let up do you?" James said with a loud guffaw at my words. "Live a little girl, I told you, it was the best thing me and Effy ever did. I know you can do your job perfectly well, you don't need to keep up an act for me."

"It's not for you James, it's for Daddy," Emily replied sadly. "Naomi thinks, and I agree, that if my father found out about us that it might have repercussions; especially on your deal with him."

"Remind me to give you a raise Naomi," Cook said, dramatically wiping his brow. "Though I do have a signed, sealed and watertight agreement with Rob, if he pulls out there's a pretty hefty penalty clause that I doubt he knows about."

"Well we'd still rather he didn't find out about us James."

"So does anyone else know about you two, besides me and Effy that is?"

"My mum does, and my brother suspects, but that's it," Emily replied.

"and Katie," I said, thinking back to the conversation on the flight. "I guess she worked it out as well."

Emily sat up with a jerk, "Shit, I had totally forgotten about her knowing…bitch better hadn't say anything. Naomi can I borrow that phone of yours to call Tim?"

I handed over the phone that James had given me on our arrival and listened in as Emily had a discussion with her sister. She made a few veiled threats that I didn't even pretend to understand, as well as some quiet muttering in what sounded like a foreign language; eventually sitting back with a smile.

"She'll play ball," Ems told me confidently as she handed back my phone. "I told her that if she even drops a hint to Dad about us, I'll tell him and Gareth a few home truths about her."

"That's blackmail Ems," I said sniggering.

"That's payback Nomi," she replied with a smug look, "it's about time I used what I know about her to my advantage."

o+o+o

Cook signed the two of us into his shooting club as official guests, our temporary membership cards good for the rest of the month. He pointed out the facilities proudly before ushering us down a corridor to a private part of the range he said he often used for entertaining clients. As we entered the private suite I heard Emily give an excited squeal as she saw a wooden crate on a table in the open shooting area, separated from the room by thick glass.

"Looks like it all arrived then, excellent!" she said happily. "I'll take it from here James, you can go away now."

"What?" Cook said incredulously, you're not going to let me watch my competition?"

"Not a hope James Cook, you can piss off for an hour or so and leave us girls to it. Naomi needs practice and she doesn't need any comments from you along the way."

"Fine," James said smirking at her bossiness. "I'll just head down to the combat range and get some _real_ practice in then, seeing as I'm not welcome here any more!"

They were laughing amicably as Emily finally shooed James out of the private area closing the door firmly behind him and clicking over the lock as she did so. She practically skipped over to me and wrapped her arms around my waist and kissed me passionately, her hands sliding up my body and twisting into my hair almost painfully as our tongues danced.

"God I've wanted to do that all day," she said as she slipped off her tiptoes, releasing me and revealing the disparity in our sizes; my combat boots giving me an extra lift over her bright red Converse.

"Well, I'm glad you restrained yourself," I told her, breathing slightly heavily. "I think it might have raised a few eyebrows along the way."

"Do you fancy going out later Nomi, just you and me? I don't fancy hanging around with everyone tonight. I think I'd like to be alone with my girl."

"Sounds good hun," I replied smiling down at her, a warm feeling flowing through me at her words. "Do you think we can give everyone the slip that easily?"

"I'll tell them straight if I have to, don't worry about that." Emily looked around the room and then stared at the mysterious crate. "Can I _please_ give you your present now?"

"I thought you just had," I said running my hand down her back as she turned away from me.

"Cheeky," she replied, skipping girlishly over to the box. "Don't tease me Naomi, I've been waiting for days to see your reaction to this."

"Then I am at your immediate and perpetual disposal Miss Fitch," I said, walking over and sitting in one of the chairs next to the table.

"I spent ages looking for weapons that would give you an advantage in the competition babe," she said fishing around in the crate. "I really want you to win. I could have got some really nice prototype stuff, but the rules say you can only use weapons that are commercially available; I called in a few favours though and got a nice little package put together for you."

"Thanks," I said genuinely pleased that she had gone to so much effort for me.

"To start with, you need a pistol," she said sounding all business. "Now, I believe that you used to shoot a Sig226 in the army; that really is a nice pistol, but it's a bit heavy. So I thought about your injuries and I thought that this might be a bit better. It's not a 9mm but you should be ok with it, and it has a lightweight grip frame made of glass reinforced nylon. Naomi Campbell, I give you the Ruger LCP."

She handed the pistol over to me with a dramatic flourish, as if she were a hostess on a game show. Despite the joking around, she was right, it was a lot lighter than my old Sig, almost featherlike in comparison; it was really small in the hand as well, but it was still nicely balanced. I quickly checked that it wasn't loaded and held it out, carefully aiming it down range.

"It only holds six rounds and uses a .38 round but it's quite effective; we sell loads to people looking for a light concealable weapon. I splashed out a bit and got you the lasergrip model, it's got a built in laser sight, I thought you might like it."

"Nice," I said activating the laser. "It's a neat little unit. Shame I can't carry it around with me, could come in handy to scare off all your admirers."

"Oh yeah, would you do that for me Naomi? They do get so tiresome you know?" Emily joked laughing as I raised a finger to her.

"Anyway," Emily said, slipping back into 'sales' mode, "this is a real beauty. The Heckler and Koch HK417 assault rifle, pretty similar in function to the M4 you used to use, but one hell of a lot better. Genuine gas blowback with a fluted bolt that is nearly impossible to jam. To give you another advantage over James I've had it fitted with a C-Mag and had the whole thing worked on by one of the gunsmiths I know. This baby is match tuned for you and with a few little tweaks will fit you like a glove."

"Sold!" I said, getting up and putting the pistol onto the table, taking the sleek black weapon from her. It looked like a lovely tool and I couldn't wait to test it out. I was a little apprehensive about the C-Mag though, they didn't have a good reputation in the field and I'd heard a lot of stories about the revolving feeds jamming up during trials in Iraq; during a timed competition, that would be the last thing I needed.

"Can I get a normal magazine for this Ems?" I asked, "I don't want to sound ungrateful but the C-Mag isn't always that reliable."

"I've got you some normal ones as well Nomi," she said with a smile. "But trust me, I've been assured that this thing will fire and fire and fire without jamming. It's one of the most reliable weapons on the market, you can even shoot it when it's been covered in sand, soil or water."

"I told you I was sold hun," I joked, lifting the rifle to my shoulder. She was right, it did seem well balanced, even with the bulky twin drums of the magazine and the barrel which was longer than the rifles I was used to. Still it felt right as I swung it around, getting a feel for her; having a girlfriend that sold weapons for a living was proving to be a real advantage.

"I've got you a shit load of match grade ammunition as well babe, the best I could get. You're going to have every advantage that I can give you…not that you'll need it," she added hurriedly.

"I'll take everything I can get Ems, everyone is going to have an advantage over me, so anything you can give me that will help balance the scales is fine with me."

"Well you'll love this," she said pulling a large box from the crate, placing it on the table in front of me and clicking it's catches before stepping back. She gestured for me to open it and I lifted the lid revealing something from a science fiction movie.

"What the hell is this?" I said, running a finger lovingly over the smooth metal.

"My competition for your affections by the looks of things," Emily said sounding a bit huffy. "This is the CheyTac M310R 'Intervention', its one of the finest sniper rifles money can buy, and I have every bell and whistle you need to beat an ex-sniper at his own game. Advanced rangefinder, ballistic computer, everything. This thing is accurate up to one and a half kilometres and at the range you're going to be shooting at it's almost unfair to use it."

A sudden thought popped into my head, what if I couldn't use these toys in the competition? There's no point getting used to a weapon if I'm not allowed to compete with it is there? Quickly I asked Emily the same question.

"Give me some credit Nomi, I checked. All the rules say is that it has to be commercially available, and Fitch Industries is selling all of it, for a price. Trust me it's all ok."

"You've thought of everything haven't you Miss Fitch?" I said, desperate to play with the weapons, find out if they were as good as they looked.

"I try Miss Campbell, I really do try."

"You really do," I told her smiling, lifting the huge rifle from the box and placing it onto the shooters table. "I think this might actually be fun."

Three hours later the crate had been repacked, sealed and locked away in the clubs armoury. We had grabbed drinks from the hotel bar and were watching James training on the combat range. I had to say I was impressed, I suspected that he was a good soldier, spotted his talent when we had led the Fitch's across their car park on our way to that first meal. Watching him in action was a revelation, he was smooth and accurate; every movement perfect.

"He looks good," Emily asked watching through the window, "he looks very good doesn't he?"

"He's very, very good Ems," I replied soberly, taking a sip from my Pepsi. "He's going to be incredibly hard to beat."

"Well if anyone can do it you can babe; I've seen you do the same thing remember, he's not as good as you are."

"He's doing it with a real weapon Ems, as good as those paintball guns are, they're not going to be the same as the real thing. The weight, the balance, the recoil; they're all going to have an effect on my performance. I ache now and all I've been doing it target shooting."

"Then you're going to need more practice babe, every day until the event. I'm going to push you until you're perfect," she squeezed my arm tenderly, "more perfect."

"Not today though," I told her firmly. "No more shooting for me today."

I meant it as well, as much as I'd loved handling the weaponry, as much as I'd thrived on the beautiful simplicity of connecting with a weapon and shooting at the paper targets, feeling like I was whole again as the bullets ripped into the centre ring again and again. As much as all of that gave me, I wanted nothing more than go back to our hotel and take a long hot shower and then go out with Emily; have something to eat as a proper couple with no-one to hide from.

I wanted nothing more than to spend time in her company and relax, relax for the first time in months.

"No," Emily said, no more today. Want to get a taxi back? We can get an early start on the night."

"Yeah," I said smiling, "that sounds like a plan."

o+o+o

I closed the door to my room and began peeling off clothes, heading for the shower. The evening had been great, Emily and I taking a cab to a restaurant for a meal, followed by drinks and dancing at a nearby club. We were both quite sober when we got back to our suite, and with a tender goodnight kiss we went our separate ways to bed.

I was feeling incredibly sticky after the club and I knew that I would have to cool down if I was to have any chance of sleep; I was burning up and not just with the heat and humidity. I could feel my flesh burning from every touch, every kiss we'd shared that night; it was all getting to be too much and I stepped into the cascade of cool water looking for blessed relief.

I stepped from the shower, wrapping the towel around my dripping body; I was cooler certainly, but I found no relief in that falling water, no escape from the thoughts that were ravaging my mind. As I stepped back into the bedroom, I was shocked to see a towel clad Emily sat on the end of my bed, the evidence of her own shower present in her soaking wet hair; hair that was plastered to her neck and shoulders in a most appealing way.

"Er…is everything ok hun?" I asked lamely, barely able to take my eyes off her for a second.

"Not really Nomi," Emily said, blinking slowly at me.

"What's the matter?" I asked, suddenly concerned. I watched as Emily stood and shook out her hair, walking over to me.

"Nothings the matter Nomi, she said holding out her hands for me to take. As I slipped my worn and calloused hands into her soft and delicate ones, she stepped right up to me, sliding her hands up my arms, placing them around her waist before releasing me and slipping her own arms around my waist. She toyed with the towelling at the small of my back nervously, "nothing's the matter at all, not now I'm with you."

Emily stood on her tiptoes to kiss me, our lips barely touching before she pulled away. "Nomi," she said lifting a hand to touch my face. "I don't want to spend the night alone tonight. I don't want to take it slow anymore, I don't want to spend another night apart from you ever again."

She stepped back and allowed her towel to fall to the floor, revealing her perfectly toned body, her perfectly flat stomach and her perfectly formed tits. I felt my mouth go dry as I stared at her, totally dumbfounded by the goddess before me. After seconds that felt like hours I spotted her chewing her lip, waiting for me to make the next move.

I was frozen in place, my pulse pounding in my head as I stared at the lowered eyes of the woman before me. I heard myself take a deep breath and suddenly my path was clear. I ran my hand through my wet hair and dried it on the towel that wrapped my body, the one thing that separated me from Emily. With one swift movement I tugged at the end and stepped out of that last barrier and wrapped Emily up in my arms, claiming her lips for my own. As I felt her melt into me I slipped my hands down to her buttocks and lifted her, her lithe legs wrapping around my waist as I carried her to my bed. As I lowered her to the cool cotton sheets, our lips never more than a millimetre apart, I realised that I wanted this more than anything else in my life. I wanted nothing more than Emily Fitch and, accepting that truth, I lowered myself onto that perfect body and gave myself to her utterly. I knew I had fallen for her, and I didn't need to guess how hard.

Emily Fitch owned me body and soul; and for the first time in my life, it did not scare me one little bit..

.

.

.

**Authors Note **– Sits back and waits for the flames!


	41. No Regrets and No Surprises

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness, a heavy case of writers block and a really bust working life right now!

Still nothing to do with Skins, (but then do we care about Skins any more? Well until that Gen 2 Movie appears anyway).

**Authors Note **– I get the feeling that you guys are happy about Emily's little decision then. Well that's good, I'm glad we're all pleased to get our girls over that little hurdle, (I know I certainly am). Hope this chapter hits the mark as well, enjoy it…I'm not going to make a habit of it.

(-:

**Chapter 41 – No Regrets and No Surprises.**

I woke to the most wonderful feeling you could possibly imagine, the feeling of Emily Fitch placing kisses across my naked body. Last night had been everything I could have imagined it would be and a lot more besides. I had a suspicion that our first time together would be spectacular, as I woke to the feeling of those lips tracing patterns across my tingling skin, I knew I was right. My mind was filled with flashbacks of entwined bodies and passion beyond anything I had ever known before. It truly had been a 'fireworks' moment, and I don't believe in that kind of thing; perhaps I was wrong, perhaps I'd just not experienced Emily Fitch before.

"Mmmmm," I heard myself moan as her tongue flicked across my nipple; I groaned again as her wandering mouth retuned to the same, sensitive spot before tracking their way up my body before placing themselves onto my lips.

"Good morning you," Emily said as she pushed herself up on her elbows to look down at me.

"Certainly is," I said, sliding my arms up her torso and onto her shoulders, pulling her down to me once more. "It most certainly is."

Wanting to take the lead I rolled Emily onto her back, running my hands over that perfectly beautiful body; allowing my fingers to drift over her flat stomach before stroking her firm thigh, tightening my fingers in her flesh and gripping tightly; pulling her into me.

"Oh fucking hell," Emily cried as I took her nipple into my mouth and slid my fingers between her legs once again, loving the fact that I could have this effect on her. "Oh fucking, fucking, fuck…"

I silenced her with a kiss, feeling her groan into my throat as my fingers went to work on her, returning every touch that had sent me floating into orbit the night before. I felt like a virtuoso musician, playing a rare and expensive instrument, as I teased her through the scales to her climax.

"Jesus Christ," Emily said snuggling into me as her breathing returned to normal, "tell me why the fuck we waited so long to do this?"

I didn't make a reply, simply holding her tighter and kissing her forehead.

"We're going to have to get up soon Nomi," Emily said after a few minutes of closeness.

"Yeah," I replied, closing my eyes.

"If we want to have breakfast we should get up now," she continued, making as much effort to move as I was, none at all.

"Yeah," my only response.

"Do you want to get up and have breakfast?" Ems asked snuggling in further and kissing the bullet wound in my shoulder, her fingers reaching down to stroke the one in my thigh gently. Emily hadn't been kidding when she'd told me that she found tattoo's and scars interesting; she'd spent a lot of the night when we weren't making love, tracing each and every one of my scars, each and every one of my tattoos. With fingertips and lips she explored all of my wounds, asking me softly to tell her the story of how I had earned it before kissing each and every one of them 'better' and moving on to the next.

In those breathless moments between passion, we shared something even deeper, we shared ourselves; and for the first time in any relationship I'd ever had, I felt connected.

"I guess we should," I said as I felt her hand trace its way up my body, lightly tracing across my hip; she scraped her nails sensuously across my stomach, sending a shiver through my entire body. "Not that I'm all that hungry," I finished, chewing my lip as my body began to hum once more under that expert touch.

"I thought you might say that," Emily said as her lips tracked their way down my body, her hands gently pushing my thighs apart.

"Fuck me," I cried as her tongue found me once again, finding myself gripping the bedclothes as the sensation overwhelmed me.

"Babe," she said throatily, releasing me for just a second. "I have _every_ intention of doing just that;" and to my lasting joy, Emily Fitch wasn't a liar.

o+o+o

I was dragged out of the shower by a hard pounding on the door and the sound of raised voices from the shared room of our suite. Reluctantly we had eschewed the idea of a joint shower, knowing that it would be quicker and simpler to head into our own rooms and use our own bathrooms. In hindsight it was another good idea in a series of good ideas.

"Where the fuck were you last night?" I heard Katie bellow from the joining room as I dried myself off.

"Where the fuck were you yesterday morning?" Emily retorted, sounding as angry as her sister.

"You know where I was, I was trying to get ready for last nights Gala, a fucking Gala _you_ were supposed to attend."

I winced slightly, I'd forgotten about the fancy do Katie had planned for their clients in preparation for the Expo. I'd had little or nothing to do with it, James having managed the little amount of security that been needed. I kicked myself at missing it, I not only should have known, but should have reminded Emily when she suggested going out alone. I'm not her secretary, but it is part of my job to know her itinerary, and Emily had come to rely on me along the way.

"Well I didn't feel like attending your fancy fucking Gala Katie; I had a long day and wanted to go out for food and some drinks and have an early night. _Some_ of us didn't get to sleep the entire fucking day away. _Some_ of us had to start a series of meetings on their own because the person that is supposed to be helping couldn't be arsed!"

I quickly pulled on my working clothes, hoping to get out there and avoid world war three breaking out between the twin; as it happened I was about thirty seconds too late.

"Now, now…ladies, please…what on earth is the matter?"

I heard Cook's drawl as I pulled on my boots and relaxed slightly; knowing that, at least, a punch up was out of the question right now. The voices in the room lowered and I strained to hear them as I laced up my boots hoping that things were calmer. I opened my bedroom door to see Emily and Katie still squaring off, neither looking happy.

"Good morning," I said casually as I walked out into the suite, waving a hand at Cook who was lounging on one of the sofas.

"Morning Naomi, sleep well?" Emily asked, looking over at me.

"Like a log," I replied simply, lying through my back teeth. "I think I needed it though, I didn't get much sleep on the flight over, and we had a fairly early start yesterday morning."

"You're looking better for it Naomi," Cook said his eyes glancing cheekily between Emily, Katie and myself. "You look almost human today."

"Thanks boss, I appreciate the vote of confidence," I replied grinning, spotting Emily smiling too out of the corner of my eye.

"You're welcome Ma'am," Cook said standing up and bowing. "anyway ladies; I won't stay, I only called to see if y'all wanted to join me and the future Mrs Cook for breakfast?"

"That sounds good James," Emily said glaring at Katie before looking away. "I'll go finish getting ready and I'll be right down."

"Wrong door Emsy," Katie said knowingly as Emily walked across the suite to her room. "I'm sure you left your things over that way."

Katie smirked at her sister as her eyes flicked across to me; Emily missed the look, but I'd caught it and unless I was very much mistaken Cook had caught it too. I had the sinking feeling that we had been utterly busted and I waited for the blow.

"What _are_ you on about Katie?" Emily asked, maintaining our cover as best she could, her voice saying better than anything that she genuinely didn't understand what Katie meant.

"Oh, nothing," Katie said turning on her heels and walking to the door, "room service is fucking awesome in this hotel though, that's all I'm saying."

Emily stared at Katie's back as she strutted from the room, a confused look all over her face. As the door closed she looked over at me as Cook burst out laughing. I glanced across at the doorway to Emily's bedroom, and spotted in a second what Katie had undoubtedly seen and understood; a perfectly made bed, all military corners and smooth sheets. As the door closed, I shook my head, a huge grin on my face at the stupidity of the moment.

"What?" Emily said seeing my look.

"Good night Emily?" James said nodding towards her room. Ems just looked back at him in confusion.

"I think they know hun," I said, sitting down next to James who patted my knee affectionately.

"Well, it's not that difficult to work out ladies" James said, "especially if young Katie there could see it, and it's not exactly a surprise."

"Know what? See what James?...and what's not a surprise?"

"Ems," I said pointing toward her room, "what's wrong with that picture?" She looked across at the open doorway blankly, as Cook sniggered to himself on the sofa kicking me with his foot.

"Do me a favour boss," I said to Cook as he looked across at Emily's confused look, "fuck off and give us a minute. We'll see you downstairs in ten for breakfast ok?"

I got a broad smile and a wink from my overly happy looking boss as he got up from the sofa and wrapped Ems up in a hug, whispering something in her ear before leaving, waving at me over his shoulder.

"Bed?" Emily said to me, closing the door after Cook and walking over to me and forcing herself onto my lap, placing her arms around my neck and kissing me again.

"Nice offer Ems," I replied jokingly, "but I did say we'd be down for breakfast in a bit."

"Funny," she replied running her fingers down my cheek. "What the fuck did he mean bed? What has everyone noticed apart from me?"

"Your bed hun," I told her, wondering how on earth she'd missed it.

"What about it? Unless you're suggesting we should go and occupy it for a bit and miss breakfast?"

"It's perfectly made Ems," I told her, smiling as I tried to explain what everyone else seemed to have understood. Emily looked into her room at her bed.

"I don't get it," she said looking blankly at her room; "so what?"

"If you'd slept in it babes," I told her stroking her sides softly; "it wouldn't be perfectly made now would it?"

Emily looked over my shoulder at the doorway again, as if seeing her room for the first time. "Fuck," was her only response.

"Yeah," I said simply, placing a soft kiss on her neck. "I think that's what caught us out."

"Regrets? " Emily said quickly, far too quickly it seemed to me.

"None, you?"

"You're fucking kidding right?" she said grabbing me, and holding me tightly.

"No," I said nuzzling into her and laying kisses along her throat, "Not me, just checking, that's all."

"Good," Emily said pulling at my hair until she was looking straight at me, before easing me forward until her lips met mine.

There were no regrets for our night of passion, no regrets from either of us.

o+o+o

Breakfast was, to coin a phrase, interesting. Katie spent most of the it eating silently, sending pointed looks at Emily and me throughout the serving. Cook, however, was on top form, distracting everyone with stories from his youth and his time in the army and beyond. The more I listened, the more he reminded me of Paul; they weren't the same by a long chalk, Cook having a streak of seriousness when required that my best mate had often lacked, but they both had a devil may care attitude. A devil may care attitude that Paul used to tell me I needed to find in myself.

"So anyway, he didn't want to jump so I clapped him on the shoulder and said, 'look Sir, a little bit of water never hurt anyone, but bullets do,' and I shoved the fucker out. He made one hell of a splash I can tell you, he was a seriously fat bastard."

"I imagine he wasn't very happy about that James," Emily said with a smile, shovelling in the pancake she'd drenched in an almost indecent amount of syrup.

"No Ma'am," James said chuckling, "I didn't get an extension on the contract after that. I don't think he was too pleased about ruining his thousand dollar suit and ten grand watch."

"Kept him alive though didn't you?" I said snorting, "ungrateful bugger, what's a few quid to people like that?"

"I'll drink to that Naomikins," Cook said tilting his glass of orange juice towards me. "They just don't deserve us do they?"

I caught a look from Katie, and held her glare until she looked away. As I turned back to Cook I saw Effy looking at me closely, a sly smile on her lips. She squinted her eyes and looked towards the balcony. "I'm going for a cigarette love," she said to James, pushing away her plate. "Emily, would you mind if I borrowed Naomi here? I need to discuss something with her about the security for tonight's meal."

Emily frowned but nodded, I looked at Effy in surprise. We were indeed all going out for a meal this evening, but there wasn't any special security required; as James had pointed out, this was probably one of the safest places for the twins. Confused I followed her out onto the hotel balcony where she lit a cigarette and looked at me as if for the first time.

"I didn't think you'd have the courage you know," she said cryptically. I looked at her unflinchingly as she took a deep drag and exhaled slowly. "You and Emily that is, you did sleep together last night didn't you?"

"I don't think that's any of your business really Miss Stonem," I said formally. Effy stared back and me and nodded, taking a long drag on her cigarette.

"I'm going to miss these," she said holding the cigarette out and looking at it closely before taking it back and inhaling again. "I'm going to have to give them up you know, James hates me smoking anyway, and when he finds out I'm pregnant I think my smoking days will be over. Shame really, I do love them."

"It's not as bad as you think, giving up that is," I told her, Effy's news shocking me slightly; "and congratulations. Why are you telling me this, shouldn't you be telling Cook?"

"I'm telling him later, before dinner. He'll want to make a big thing about it."

"and you don't?"

Effy smiled sadly at me, "you really don't understand me do you Miss Campbell," she said quietly. "I'm afraid you didn't see a good side of me when we first met, you saw the public me; I'm not in the slightest bit like that really, James will tell you that."

"I got the impression you weren't happy with me saving your life either," I said sarcastically, glancing over my shoulder to ensure we weren't overheard.

"You hurt my brother Naomi, then I was attacked…it was just a little bit stressful; how did you expect me to react?"

I tilted my head noncommittally, Effy just grimaced and continued. "Anyway, back to the point of this little meeting. I happen to quite like Emily and I was wondering what your intentions are?"

"Are you for real?" I asked her, shaking my head in annoyance. "My intentions? Fuck you Stonem."

I walked away, only to be held back by Effy's hand on my shoulder. "I mean it Naomi, are you just fucking about with Emily, because she doesn't deserve that."

"Like I said, I don't think that's any of your business Miss Stonem."

"Naomi, please; Emily's a sweet girl, she doesn't deserve being hurt."

I paused in the doorway, looking back into the dining room where Emily was joking with Cook. I spun on my heels and walked up to her, pulling the cigarette from her fingers and flicking it into a convenient flowerbed.

"James doesn't deserve that either," I told her forcefully, "and nor does the child you're carrying. Tell him Miss Stonem; I like Cook, he's a good person as well as a good boss. Don't fuck him around or you will answer to me."

She stared at me unblinkingly before nodding with a grin, "and Emily?" She asked, not letting the matter drop.

"Emily and I are fine, we will be fine," I told her forcibly. "As long as people keep out of our business. The last thing we need is our relationship causing anyone problems because of someone's big mouth."

"I'll speak to Katie for you if you want," Effy said, "I'm sure I can convince her not to make problems for you two; Emily told me what she can be like."

"When?" I said, curious despite myself.

"When she was very drunk at her party, the night I knew she was really interested in you. The three of us were drinking for a while and there were only two people she mentioned the whole time; you and Katie, and she only had nice things to say about one of you."

I nodded thoughtfully, "what makes you think Katie would listen to you about anything?" I asked callously. "It's not like you're friends or anything."

Effy laughed and took out another cigarette, lighting it absently and taking a drag before I had chance to grab it from her hands and throw it to join its partner in the flowerbed.

"Stop that," she said indignantly as I took the pack off her and crushed it for good measure. I looked at her impassively as she attempted to stare me down, before smiling again.

"Katie will play ball because can offer her something she desperately wants, but isn't getting…fame. Katie wants to be famous, wants it desperately; trouble is her husband isn't everything she wanted, fame wise that is. You know I'm right, I'm sure you read the report on the Fitch family."

I nodded, "so where do you come in?"

Effy smiled and raised an eyebrow, "I'm famous Naomi darling," she said in her posh it-girl voice, "Katie hangs around with me for a few weeks, gets into the _right_ bars, gets seen in the _right_ places with the _right_ people and she might get what she wants. She might not like it mind you, but she'll get it."

"What's the catch?" I asked suspiciously. "Why would you do that for me and Ems?"

"No catch Naomi, no catch at all. I told you, I like Emily. Actually, I kind of like you as well, even if you are an overly violent bitch sometimes."

"I do what I'm trained to do, and what your fiancée pays me for," I said still looking at her carefully; "I am what I am." Effys eyes narrowed in thought before she smiled and waved over my shoulder at someone in the room.

"Speaking of whom," Effy said, brushing past me as she walked back into the dining room. "Coming?"

I watched her walk back into the room and sit down next to Cook, kissing him on the cheek as he leaned over to speak to her. I saw Emily glance over in my direction and smile, winking at me as Katie said something to her before turning back.

Perhaps things would be all right after all.

o+o+o

The day that followed was boring in the extreme; after breakfast we all went our separate ways. Katie announced that she was spending the day with Effy shopping, causing an eye roll from Emily. We spent most of the day in meetings, well Emily did. I spent most of the day stood outside rooms, twiddling my thumbs and waiting to move onto the next venue. It was all becoming so tiresome, and I longed to hit the range once more and try out my skills in preparation for the competition to come. The expo itself didn't officially start until next week, and I knew that I needed all the practice I could get before the day.

"When you're _quite_ ready Miss Campbell," Emily's voice cut across my mental reverie bringing me back to reality. I stood and turned towards the doorway she had appeared from, a group of business people behind her.

"I am ready whenever you are Miss Fitch," I replied politely, nodding to the others.

"Good, we have one more stop and then I think I'd like some lunch, could you sort that out for me while I'm in my meeting?"

"Of course Miss Fitch, I'll ask someone to bring something along for you."

"Thank you Miss Campbell, that would be great. Gentlemen, ladies," she said turning and smiling at the others. As we walked away I heard Emily speak to me.

"I'm sorry about that Nomi," she whispered, "bunch of pricks, they've been fucking me around all morning and I needed to keep up the bitchiness to keep my credibility."

"It's fine Miss Fitch," I replied formally, "I am perfectly aware of my status in this relationship."

"Oh shush," she hissed grinning at me.

"Yes Miss Fitch, or course Miss Fitch."

"You're sleeping on your own tonight if you keep this up Miss Campbell," Emily joked as we walked into her temporary office and I checked that it was secure, as usual.

"Indeed Miss Fitch," I said cordially, "whatever you say Miss Fitch." I bowed formally and closed the door on her, taking up my usual position outside the doorway. Within seconds the door had opened and I found myself being dragged in and pushed up against the door, slamming it closed.

"Will you stop that, I said I was sorry," Emily said, pushing her head against my chest and hugging me tightly.

"You also said I would be sleeping alone tonight," I teased, running my hands over her hips, her tight pencil skirt having taunted me all morning.

"Yeah, well I totally lied," Emily said quickly. "You think that I'm going to let that happen after just finding you, not fucking likely."

"Yes Miss Fitch," I said getting a dig in the ribs for my troubles.

"Training this afternoon Naomi," Emily told me forcefully. "I've got one more meeting then we can head over. I've given us the afternoon off again, we can have lunch at the club if you want."

"Whatever works for you hun."

"Watching you shoot works for me Nomi, you have no idea how hot you are when you get all serious like that."

"Don't say things like that Ems," I said disentangling myself from her and placing a kiss on her forehead. "You'll make it very difficult to concentrate if I'm running around with a gun knowing you're thinking filthy thoughts."

"There's nothing filthy about my thoughts," she said indignantly as she walked back to her desk, her backside swinging deliberately as she walked, taunting me once more. "I'll have you know they're always very clean, mostly; its just that persona you strap on every time you pull on your gear, I can't help it if it turns me on, I told you I liked that about you from the moment we met."

"Emily…" I said warningly.

"Shush, babe, I'm allowed remember?"

She sat down at the chair in the rented office, a far cry from her desk in Fitch Industries. Almost immediately she jumped up again with a cry. "Shit, Naomi we're running late, I need to be in my meeting in like five minutes, I've got no chance…fuck"

"Let's go then Ems," I said opening the door, "it's not that far to the other complex, if we hurry we can just about make it."

"Yes Ma'am" she said rushing past me, running her hand across my stomach as he did so.

"Oh shut up," I said as she practically jogged ahead of me; "and don't call me Ma'am, I work for a living."

"Yes Sarge," she said sniggering, and vanishing around the corner; "whatever you say Sarge."

One day I'm going to get the last word.

o+o+o

We made the meeting, if only by the skin of our teeth, and as far as I could tell it went well; Emily appearing an hour and three quarters later with a satisfied looking smile on her face.

"Got them," she said as we sat in the back of the chauffeured car, heading over to the gun club. "I'll let the team haul those guys in now, but they've well and truly bitten."

"India?" I asked, not actually knowing who the hell she had been meeting and thinking that perhaps, once again, I should have been more aware. America had made me complacent, and I didn't like it.

"No, not this time; I'm meeting with them again next week. That meeting's going to be a big one, there's a pretty good chance they'll sign as well."

"Cool," I said encouragingly, before my doubts locked in again. "Just a thought, has anyone done a background check on the people you're meeting this week?"

"Oh Naomi, can't you step off the clock for just thirty seconds?"

"Not when your safety is involved Ems," I said seriously. "Not before and certainly not now, I've been getting lazy and that's going to stop."

"Aw, sweet," she said sliding along the seat and putting her hand on my thigh. "Thanks Nomi, it really does make me feel safe knowing you're with me you know. I don't think I've told you that before, but it's true."

"Just doing my job Ma'am," I said doing my best impersonation of James Cook. Surprisingly Emily didn't bite.

"I like you doing your job Naomi, I really do."

"I have to say, so do I, didn't think I would at first; but it's kind of grown on me over the weeks, bit like you."

"Good."

o+o+o

Weapons training was more than worth it, I pushed myself perhaps a little harder than I should have done, but the competitive nature that plagued me kicked in once again. By the time I was done I was utterly exhausted, but I was also feeling pretty good. The HK that Ems had bought me was proving to be a superb weapon, I'd fired und after round through her and she hadn't blinked, let alone jammed. The C-Mag with its hundred round capacity was giving me a real advantage as I negotiated the combat course, the precious few seconds I gained not having to reload helping offset my rustiness. By the end of my session I was even managing to put in some pretty respectable times.

I was feeling more positive for the competition than I had before, the old skills were there, the only thing I still needed to get sorted was the one thing I'd always bee terrible at, the distance shooting. Even with all the technology that Emily's super-sniper rifle brought to the game it still needed a steady aim and a careful eye; it still needed patience, and that was something I'd never had. It was my weakest area and I knew I was going to have to dedicate a lot of time to getting it right. Cook really did have an advantage on me there; there are some things you're just good at, and he was obviously going to be good at that.

I was pretty sure I was better than him with the pistol though; I'd always been good with handguns, so all I needed was a chance. From what I understood about the scoring for the competition that Cook had entered us into it was your combined total that gave you the trophy; so it was all about balance, doing enough in each round to make sure I didn't embarrass myself or the company.

Emily was still telling me that I stood a real chance of winning, but then she would; she seemed to believe in me even when I didn't, she reminded me of mum in that respect.

I put the HK onto my table at the start of the course and removed the magazine, ensuring that the weapon was clean and clear before re-entering the building. As I field stripped and cleaned the rifle Emily walked in through the glass doors with a broad smile on her face and a bottle of water in her hand.

"You were great Nomi," she gushed enthusiastically. "That was your best time yet, you were only two seconds off James' time yesterday."

"Really?" I said surprised.

"Really, and you've been getting faster each run, well until you start tiring. That last run was about four seconds slower than your best."

"Takes it out of you Ems," I said mopping my brow and slotting the fancy bolt back into the receiver, carefully lining everything up before closing the grip frame with a clean sounding thunk. "It's hot work out here."

"You had enough then babe? Ready to go back to the hotel?"

"More than ready Ems," I said as I laid the rifle down, the cleaning complete. I took the bottle she offered and downed it quickly before pouring some over my head; the cold water a blessed relief after my exertions. "I think I need something to eat and a shower. Actually, I don't think I need a shower, I _know_ I need a shower."

"Yeah, you are a bit ripe," she said crinkling her nose, "want me to scrub your back?"

She winked at me cheekily, and couldn't help but smile back. "You know what?" I asked remembering the last time she had used those words. "I think that sounds just lovely."

o+o+o

I didn't get my back scrubbed, not by Emily anyway; our plans for some bath time fun were spoilt when we returned to our hotel to a message from home. Rob Fitch had been on, demanding a call from Emily as soon as she returned. It was with an apologetic smile that she headed off to her room to make the call.

"Go get a shower Naomi," she said as I opened the door to her room and checked it out. "You really do stink."

"Yes Miss Fitch."

Emily flopped down on her bed laughing and threw a pillow at me as I went to leave. Quickly I closed the door and grinned as I heard the heavy object thump against the wood.

I walked into my room, throwing my clothes onto the floor, before having a great idea. I walked back into our suite and opened the mini bar, taking out a small bottle of wine. It would probably cost a small fortune, but as Fitch Industries was picking up the tab, I didn't really care. I poured the white wine into one of the glasses on the side table and knocked on the door to Emily's room.

"Just a second Daddy," I heard her say before her voice raised, "Yes?"

I opened the door and walked in, watching as Emily nearly dropped the phone at the sight of me. Wearing nothing but a smile I handed her the drink, bent down and silently kissed her on the cheek; before turning and walking away, attempting to move my hips in the same seductive way she did so well.

"Thanks Naomi," I heard her call out as I left the room once more, rolling my shoulders to make my dragons dance..

"Any time Miss Fitch," I replied carefully, wondering if I was having the desired effect.

"Just Naomi, Daddy, she brought me a drink; it's been a tough day today Lots of things to sort out. Yes daddy," I heard her say as I closed the door, "twenty four hour as you asked for, Naomi has barely left my side for days. It's quite inconvenient you know."

There was a long pause before, "yes Daddy, I _know_ it's for my own good. Don't worry, I'm not doing anything to put myself at risk, and Naomi is taking very good care of me as usual. Now do you want to hear about this deal or not, because I've got things to do and I need to get ready."

I left them to their conversation, made sure that the door to our suite was locked and walked into the bathroom and straight under the shower, scrubbing off the sweat disappointingly by myself.

I was standing under the warm water when I heard a noise behind me and turned to see a diminutive red haired figure walking into the shower behind me.

"I told Dad to fuck off and go to bed," she said as she stepped under the water and tilted back her head, allowing the cascade to run over her face, the rivulets of water trailing down her neck and onto those perfect breasts.

"I'll have to get up early to go into the office for a conference call with him, but I convinced him that he should go to bed so I can get on with an important meeting I had planned. Besides," she said snapping her head back and staring me up and down; "after that little stunt, I couldn't wait to get in here and see if you'd scrub my back for me!"

I couldn't help but smile as she turned away from me, exposing her beautiful shoulders, the faint ripple of muscle clearly visible as she moved in front of me. I pumped the dispenser, placing a large amount of soap onto my hands. I placed them onto her shoulders, and rubbed down her back as ordered; my hands tracing soapy trails over her collarbones and down to her waist. I rubbed the sweet smelling gel into her back, before pulling her into me and sliding my hands over her flat stomach, cupping her breasts gently, soaping them too.

"I have to say," Emily purred as my hands roamed over her body; "this is one hell of a lot better than a telephone call with my dad."

"Way to kill a mood Ems," I said leaning down to kiss her neck even as I slipped my hands over her stomach and held her tight. Emily turned around in my arms, the shower gel making her slippery and hard to hold on to; she pushed us back under the water, the soap running from her body and lifted her lips to mine, kissing me softly. We held that kiss, nearly drowning as the water crashed down until Emily pulled back, licking her lips before opening her big brown eyes to stare at me.

"Still think I killed the mood Nomi?" she asked, pulling me out of the shower and into the bathroom; wrapping us both up in a towel, "because being served wine like that puts me in one, very specific, mood and _I_ don't think it's gone away."

"I thought you had a meeting to go to?" I teased as our bodies pressed together and she led me into the bedroom. "Plus we have a dinner to attend in a couple of hours don't we?"

"We do…but it doesn't take me long to get ready, you?"

"Not long at all, I'm very low maintenance." I said as she pushed me backwards to sit on the bed, before straddling me, her arms around my neck.

"Good," she said kissing me passionately, "because I have some very important negotiations I need to conduct right now; and they may take some time."

"I believe we may have a little time for your meeting, what was it you wanted to negotiate?"

"First thing about negotiations," Ems said throatily, pushing me all the way back until I was lying down with her lips at my ear, "never, ever, give away what you want right from the start. Always work your way up to it."

"Are you good at negotiations Miss Fitch?" I asked, running my hands over her smooth, soft buttocks, nipping gently at the soft skin of her throat.

"I'm the best Miss Campbell," Ems replied as she adjusted her position, pinning my arms to the bed above my head and lowering her face until it nearly touched mine; "and I always get exactly what I want."

Her lips flicked against mine as she spoke and I licked my own carefully, my tongue touching her lips as it moistened my own. I had my own tactical plan for this 'negotiation', my very own secret mission; and, like her, I wasn't used to losing, wasn't used to failure. As I ran my tongue along my bottom lip and hers, I heard a groan from above me and Emily's lips fell upon mine, and her body along with them.

Mission accomplished.

.

.

.

**Authors Note **– I do believe I've just passed the word count for Avalanche with this latest chapter. All this time and you've only now got some "smut" (I still don't write smut you know!)…I'm so proud of you all for sticking with this story, despite my games; thanks to all of you and I'll see you next week, (probably). (-:


	42. Deals over Dinner

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness, a heavy case of writers block and a really bust working life right now!

Still nothing to do with Skins, (but then do we care about Skins any more? Well until that Gen 2 Movie appears anyway).

**Authors Note **– Evening folks, time for a slight change of pace, a simple chapter this time…but see if you can spot the two hidden plot points (that'll make you think won't it?) (-:

Enjoy peeps, see you next week.

**Chapter 42 – Deals over Dinner**

"Ladies and Gentlemen, tonight I am a doubly happy man, a triply happy man perhaps. I am here with the most beautiful woman in the world…"

"The second," I whispered to Emily who was sat next to me, looking as radiant as ever I'd seen her; the 'freshly fucked glow' really suiting her.

"The third," she whispered back, her lips twitching.

"…who has not only done me the very great honour of agreeing to be my wife," Cook continued, completely oblivious to our little conversation; "but has also just told me that I've been blessed in yet one more way."

"You forgot about Katie, that would make Effy the fourth."

"I was including Katie."

"Oh, thanks," I tilted my head in mocking salute for the slight, as James continued to drone on, announcing Effy's pregnancy to the rest of the people at our table.

As it was old news to me, I spent my time surveying the building, the old habits being hard to put behind me. Emily and I were stuck in a rather posh restaurant, sat around a table with some clients of both companies, and frankly I was as bored as I could be. It was only Emily's presence that kept me here, that and my respect for my boss.

To be perfectly honest, I'd rather have been down the road at the diner we'd passed; or even better, back in our suite with room service. In fact I'd rather be doing anything rather than being sat here, all dressed up and having to pretend to be interested in the conversations that were going on around me.

"Cheers," I heard people say around me and I picked up my glass and tilted it towards a proud looking Cook and an embarrassed looking Effy.

"They make a lovely couple don't they?" The old woman sat next to me said, "are you friends with them, or are you a client too?"

"Neither, really" I said politely, "actually I work for Close Protection."

"Really? How fascinating." She said looking over her glasses at me. "What is it you do for James, do you work in the offices or something?"

"Not quite," I said, holding back my indignation at her unintentional insult. "I'm a CPO, that's a Close Protection Officer. Currently though I head up the protection detail for the Fitch family, I'm also personally responsible for the safety of Miss Fitch here."

"Oh," the old woman said, not quite catching my eye. "That's a lot of responsibility for someone so young, you must be very good."

"She is Amelia," Cook called over from where he must have been listening to our conversation. "She's one of my best, and I was lucky to get her as well; she's going to give me a run for my money next week, I can tell you."

"Me too," Emily said, getting a slight look from her sister, who was busy schmoozing a tall, tanned, grey haired man whom Emily had introduced as head of a manufacturing company that supplied them with rounds of all sizes. "I thank the day James found Naomi here, she's saved my life more than once since we met."

"Only the once Miss Fitch," I corrected formally; "it was only the once really. The second time was a false alarm remember?" I caught Katie's eye as I said it, and got a hidden sneer in reply.

"She's annoyingly modest as well as talented," Emily said leaning over me and offering the old woman her hand, "Emily Fitch, I'm the Sales Director for Fitch Industries."

"Amelia Laverty, pleased to meet you Miss Fitch. I'm one of James' clients, well my daughter is anyway; she's out in LA right now, so I get to take James up on his invite much you my own pleasure."

"Please Ms Laverty, call me Emily," Ems said already into schmooze mode; "tell me have you known James a long time?"

Their conversation carried on across me at a pace, and I was left, sipping my drink and politely pretending to listen. It never ceased to amaze me how Emily could strike up a relationship with someone so easily, her charm offensive in full effect. It was all so different from how she had treated me at the beginning of our working relationship, but then she _had_ said that was born of her true feelings for me.

She's a complicated creature my Emily, sweetheart and bitch, friend and enemy, lover and hater; the more I got to know her, however, the more the enigma began to unravel. She was a creature totally driven by desire, I know that now; desire to be wanted, a desire to be needed, but most of all a desire to be accepted. Everything she did for Fitch Industries was done purely and simply to get some sort of positive reaction from the man she called Dad or Daddy. She drove herself ever harder in an attempt to get him to realise that she was better than her sister, more worthy of his love.

If anyone got in the way of that ambition…well they became collateral damage along the way; I hoped and prayed that I wouldn't become a victim of the force that drove her, I hoped that almost as much as I hoped that one day she would get what she truly wanted.

"Naomi…_Naomi…_"

I blinked and left my internal dialogue, glancing at Emily who was regarding me with an exasperated look.

"Yes Miss Fitch?"

"Amelia here was asking you about the competition."

I turned my head to the old woman to my left, catching a glance from Cook. "I'm terribly sorry Ms Laverty," I said switching on the professional soldier act again. "I'm afraid I was thinking about just that; it has been occupying my mind just a little recently."

"Please, Naomi, call me Amelia. James tells me that you're going to be stiff competition for him this year."

"I hope she will be," Effy said, appearing by my shoulder. "James was simply insufferable last year after he won, I swear his head was bigger than that monstrous trophy they gave him."

"I don't know about that Ms Laverty," I replied simply, ignoring her request for first name terms as usual. "Six months ago I'd have said yes, I probably I had a chance, but at the moment I'm not totally sure."

"Don't let that modesty fool you Amelia," Emily said confidently, "I've seen her train and she's very good. By the time the competition comes around she'll be more than a match for James over there."

"I really wouldn't put any money on that though Miss Fitch," I said provoking a chuckle from Effy.

"Really Naomi, is it possible you could put yourself down any more," she said. "Emily, would you mind if I borrowed your reticent friend here for a second? I fancy a bit of fresh air and James has gone all protective since I told him I was pregnant and I could do with five minutes away from him."

"Please, take her away before I'm forced to slap her for her negative thinking," Emily said laughing. "Congratulations by the way, I was really happy to hear your good news, both bits; James is a lucky man."

"Thank you Emily," Effy said leaning down and accepting Emily's hug. When she rose again it was with a strange smile on her face. "I guess it's been an interesting few days for all of us, don't you think?"

"Yeah," Emily said her face faltering for a second, "indeed it has."

"If you ladies would excuse me for a second," I said standing quickly to save Emily's acute embarrassment. "Miss Stonem?" I gestured towards the hotel doorway and without a further word Effy took the hint and walked off.

"What was that all about Miss Stonem?" I asked coldly as I closed the door behind me.

"Nothing Naomi, just having a little fun, you should try it sometime."

"If having fun means trying to embarrass a friend Miss Stonem, then I don't think I want any part of it."

"Is that what you thought I was doing? Interesting."

Effy took a pack of cigarettes from her clutch bag and lit one, inhaling deeply. I watched her carefully, but ignored the challenge in her action. I'd managed to quit cold turkey, but I knew other people found that difficult or impossible to do.

"Not really," I replied, holding the contempt in my voice, letting her know how annoyed I was at what she had done to Emily.

"Naomi," Effy said apologetically, lightly touching my arm. "I wasn't trying to embarrass you or Emily, I was just playing, teasing her a little that's all. I'd just Like it if you two would act a bit more normally around each other, it's not as if you're working tonight, it's ok to show you're a couple amongst friends."

"Of course I'm working," I snapped, reacting to the stupidity of her statement. "This isn't the quiet evening out we were expecting you know. Neither Emily nor I knew that James and Katie had invited clients, how the fuck else am I supposed to behave?"

"I guess that's true," she admitted thoughtfully. "I never thought about that kind of thing. Still don't see what difference it would make. James' clients know that he used to work for me, it's never bothered them that we're together; and I know Emily hates the fact that you're so fucking formal all the time."

"Emily and I have discussed the matter Miss Stonem." I replied coldly, still angry at her for even considering teasing Emily about our relationship, let alone giving me a fucking lecture about it. Remembering my situation, I took a deep, calming breath and continued in a more even tone.

"Not that it's got anything to do with you, but we've discussed it at length in fact; at the moment we're not prepared to make our relationship public and I would appreciate it if you would respect that. Now, what exactly did you want me for?"

"I just wanted a chat Naomi, it was getting a bit cloying in there and you're someone I knew wouldn't treat me like a china doll or some sort of cripple. Everyone's treating me with kid gloves for fucks sake, I'm pregnant not dying."

"They're doing it because they care," I told her as I remembered my mother complaining of the same thing once when she was sick. Mum had hated being treated differently because she was undergoing treatment for her lung cancer, _'I'm sick not incapable' _she used to rant at the nurses and visitors that seemed to assume that her mind had gone along with her hair, _'stop treating me like I'm different'_. Effy seemed to want to be treated in the same way, but for very different reasons.

"I know that, doesn't make it any less annoying though. James has been a fucking pain in the arse since you I told him I was pregnant; if he could find enough I'm sure he'd be trying to wrap me up in cotton wool. I'm my own person Naomi, I was doing well enough before I met him; I don't need a ring or a fucking baby to define me, I don't need to be protected or isolated or anything else. I'm fucking Elizabeth Stonem, not Mrs James fucking Cook."

I looked at her, holding her glare unblinkingly until she looked away. I knew we'd hit the root cause of the problem, the sudden fear of anonymity that Effy was feeling. For someone so independent to go from being Elizabeth Stonem, to 'the future Mrs James Alouicious Cook', to "Mother to be"; well it must be hard to take.

Trouble is, I have no idea how to deal with it at all. One thing the Army did well is remove your need for individuality. I was an individual sure, I was 'Snowy', 'Campbell', or plain old 'Sarge' to all of the guys in the CPU; but more than all of that I was a soldier; a member of the Close Protection Unit, of the Royal Military Police and ultimately of the British Army. I was a tiny part of a greater whole and everything I did I did with that in mind; it was never about the individual glory, always about the greater good. What Effy was going through was as strange to me as I assume marching in close order drill would be to her.

"Perhaps you should talk to Emily," I blurted finally, taking the easy option.

"Why?" was the simple response.

"Because she's good at this kind of thing," I told her, with a definite sense of confidence at my words. "Better than me anyway, she'll understand."

"Understand what?" Effy asked challengingly.

"You," I said flatly getting a snort in response. "No, she's really good at this kind of thing, she managed to help me along the way and I'm a fucking mess. Would you like me to talk to Cook? Tell him to back off a bit?"

"Like he'd listen Naomi, you have no idea what he's been like. All fucking day he's been…"

"…like an expectant father?" I interrupted.

"Yeah," she said with a resigned chuckle, "I guess, an expectant father…yeah. I guess that's to be expected isn't it? Do you think I'm overreacting?"

"I don't really know, I have no idea what your normal reaction would be; I'm not you." I said meaningfully. Effy stared at me in shock for a second before starting to laugh, and after a few moment I found myself joining in.

"_I'm not you_…" she repeated sarcastically, "you utter twat Campbell. I can see why she likes you, even if you are kind of stupid."

"Not too bright, I think you called me last time."

"Perceptive aren't I?"

"Fucking annoying, that's what you are Miss Stonem. Can we go back in now?"

Effy stared at me, her lips twitching, "missing the little lady already."

"Oh absolutely," I said rolling my eyes, "I can't live without her."

I got another appraising look for Effy who went to say something; I raised a challenging eyebrow and she paused, smiled and presumably changed her mind.

"I think I like you Naomi," Effy said finally, tossing away her cigarette, taking my arm and leading me back inside. "Would you have a word with James for me? See if you can calm him down? Manage that and I'll be your best friend for ever."

"I think I like you too Miss Stonem; so don't fuck Cook over and I might just let you."

o+o+o

All eyes turned towards the two of us as we walked back into the restaurant, two sets of eyes especially looking at us; one with amusement, one with suspicion.

"Ah, the wanderers return," James said looking at Effy strangely, "you ok love?"

"See what I mean," Effy whispered before looking over at James, "I'm fine James, stop fussing. Excuse me Naomi, I'm going to steal your seat for a bit."

As James looked on she sat down next to Emily and Amelia, taking my seat and joining in their conversation. Emily furrowed her brow at me questioningly and I raised mine in reply, trying to tell her with a look that I didn't really know the answer to her look.

"What was that all about Naomikins?" James asked as I sat down next to him, pouring myself a glass of sparkling water from the unopened bottle in front of him.

"Oh nothing important, just you boss," I said sitting back and taking a sip.

"Me?"

"You, you're being a bit intense and you're scaring the shit out of your girlfriend," I said casually.

"Fiancée," he corrected with a broad smile.

"Not for much longer if you keep this shit up boss."

Cook eyed me seriously the smile slipping from his face. He sat back in his chair and looked at me. "Explain?"

"I don't know Effy as well as you Cookie," I said, using his nickname tactically, trying to re-emphasise the bond of brotherhood we shared. "But I do know you've got her worried about something. This is all a pretty massive change for her; and I think she's scared of losing her identity and you're not really helping her."

James eyed me carefully, his eyes flicking across to Effy as she chatted happily to Emily and her new 'friend'. He sighed, his shoulders sagging as he did so.

"Go on then Naomi, tell me what I'm doing wrong."

"Do you love her boss?" I asked, staring over at Emily.

"Yes Ma'am, I surely do."

"Then let her be herself, stop making her out to be some kind of an extension of you. I read the file you gave me, I went out with her; she's famous in her own right remember?"

"Naomikins, Effy hates being well known; I thought you knew that. She hates the person she plays…that's why we're so good together; she doesn't have to play Lizzy Stonem with me, and over here she can be herself, no idiots to chase her."

"That's as maybe boss, but I know she's freaking out a little bit, all the 'future Mrs Cook's' the big focus on her having _your_ kid, it's a huge change boss and she's struggling to adapt. Back off a little, give her some room to be herself, to find herself; this is something the two of you should be sharing, not something you should brag about all the time at her expense."

"I'm just happy Naomi, does she not understand that? I want to tell the whole fucking world how happy I am."

"She knows boss, " I guessed, hoping that it was as true as I thought it was. "Look, why don't you just talk it through with her? Work things out together, it'll do you both good."

Cook took a deep breath and stared at me, letting it out slowly before speaking. "When did you get so clever Naomikins? It's really not in a squaddies nature to think that much. We're supposed to be simple people."

"Since you stuck me with Emily Fitch boss, she's sort of a bad influence."

Cook stared over at his girlfriend and mine, chatting away amiably with Ms Laverty, and smiled. "She's an influence Naomikins, but I'm not sure it's necessarily a bad one. Thanks for the honestly, I owe you one blondie, I won't forget."

He tilted his wine glass to me and we clinked them together with a smile; prompting our respective partners to look up at us.

"Think it's going to be ok boss?" I asked winking at Effy as she smiled weakly at me.

"Will if I've got anything to do with it babe."

"Don't call me babe Cookie," I replied, only joking a little bit. "There's only one person here gets to call me that, and it isn't you."

"Fair enough blondie, you think that you and young Emily are going to be ok too?"

"We will be, if I've got anything to do with it boss."

"Touché."

o+o+o

I woke up the next morning, a discarded pillow and rumpled bed sheets separating me from my red-headed bed mate; who was still fast asleep and snoring lightly.

I climbed out of the bed with an ache, glancing at my alarm clock and wincing at the time. I wasn't used to sleeping late, and eight in the morning is late for me. America was definitely making me soft, either that or the last two, pretty late, nights with Emily had totally worn me out; more than likely it was the latter that was really to blame.

I left my room, leaving my girl behind me, and walked through the suite and into her room; heading into her bathroom for a shower so as not to disturb her. I smiled as I saw her cosmetics and toiletries scattered all over the counters, every available surface covered in crap. It was a far cry from the disciplined precision of my own bathroom; a place for everything, and everything in its place as it should be. I cranked on the shower and jumped under the powerful jets, easing the aches and pains with the watery massage; what I really needed was a morning swim and a workout, something to get my mind and body focussed. I was missing my flat, and the convenience of the facilities and I made a mental note to investigate the hotel properly, a place this posh was bound to have a pool tucked away somewhere; and a long swim would be a lot cooler than going for a run, and a lot better for me.

Feeling much more awake, I walked back into the suite wrapped in a towel and a towelling robe to find Emily sat on the sofa watching the television; a large breakfast tray on the table in front of her, a cup of coffee in her hand.

"Morning Nomi, sleep well?" She said patting the sofa next to her.

"Too well," I replied, sitting down and being pulled into a soft kiss, morning breath and all. When finally she released me I poured myself a glass of orange juice from the jug on the tray and continued my thought. "If I'm honest I'm a bit annoyed with myself, I should have been up hours ago."

"Why?" Emily asked looking puzzled. "I don't have a meeting until eleven so there's no reason to get up that early."

"I'm not used to sleeping in Ems, I'm usually up at six at the latest."

"Jesus, well at least you're quiet getting up, I hate getting up early."

"So how come you're up then?" I asked grabbing a piece of toast from the rack. "You could have stayed in bed."

"I was hungry, thought I'd order us some breakfast," she said stating intently at the television avoiding my smirk.

"Well I'm glad you did," I told her, meaning it as well. "I'm starving; dinner sucked last night."

"Really, just don't get me started…"

"I don't think either of us had been impressed with the fine dining we'd been served last night. Katie and Cook had obviously been out to impress their guests, hence the posh restaurant; however it lacked a little something for me, and that something was substance. Emily and I had exchanged glances as the main course had arrived, and I was pretty sure we were thinking the same thing; where the hell was it?

"_Worst thing about fancy dining Nomi,"_ she'd whispered to me as we all tucked into the tiny meal. _"Never gives you enough to be satisfied when all you are is hungry."_

She hadn't been lying, fancy it was…and tiny.

"What did you order hun?" I asked looking at the covered plates with undisguised interest.

"Bit of everything babe, a good hearty breakfast is what we need today."

"You're planning on missing lunch again aren't you?" I chided shaking my head at her. She'd done the same thing yesterday, the desperate rush between meetings meaning that she'd not eaten until we'd got to the range in the late afternoon; and then it had only been a club sandwich. Emily justifying the lack of food by saying she needed to eat something light so as not to spoil her appetite for the evening meal.

"I might have to babe," she said pulling a face. "Today's meeting is a really important one, it's with the heads of one of our biggest suppliers; they're trying to fuck us over on unit price per round." She started shovelling food from the platters onto her plate, sausages, bacon and scrambled eggs being piled up haphazardly.

"I'm telling you, there is no fucking way they're going to screw with me. What those twats don't know is that there are people queuing up to deal with us, I think the rumours about next week have hit the circuit, I'm going to fucking murder them in there, however long it takes."

I chuckled to myself as she began shovelling in food at a ferocious rate, her hackles well and truly raised. I felt sorry for whomever would crossed her, I suspected that the bitch-Fitch would be making an appearance today; and I prepared myself for the fall out, suspecting that I'd have to play along again.

"…and what's so funny Miss Campbell?" Emily asked between mouthfuls of food.

"Nothing, Miss Fitch; absolutely nothing at all."

"Oh shush up and have some breakfast Nomi; you need to eat as well. You need to keep your strength up."

"Oh really?" I asked, raising an eyebrow at her comment and thinking back to the night before. Emily choked on her mouthful of food, requiring me to pat her on the back until the fit passed.

"Not funny Nomi," she said taking a mouthful of my juice and swallowing quickly. "I meant_,_ for your _training session,_ as you very well know."

"Oh," I said, smiling at her embarrassment. "What a shame."

o+o+o

Emily pushed both herself and me to the limits over the next few days. She was engaged in meeting after meeting, sometimes back to back and occasionally long into the night; sidebars to the endless stream of parties that Katie seemed to organise or insist that we attend on behalf of the company.

I say we, I mean of course Emily; despite her pseudo-blessing on the plane I'm not sure she'd quite come to terms with the fact that she'd discovered that Emily and I had slept together.

Emily had taken time out of her busy schedule to make sure I trained though; every afternoon there was a hole in her diary which we filled with combat training, range shooting or pistol work. She pushed me harder and harder until finally it all started to pay off, my times went down, my accuracy went up and with every round I shot I felt better and better.

It was late on Sunday afternoon when Cook came over to see us. He'd been absent for a couple of days, busy with his own projects for the expo and, I suspected, sorting out things with Effy and his own training. I'd literally just tucked away the sniper rifle, and it's all knowing PDA, when he appeared next to me grinning.

"Naomikins, your little lady friend told me you'd be down here, you trying to get good enough to give me a run for my money?"

"Actually boss, I'm trying to get good enough that I don't embarrass you next week."

I slapped his hand as he tried to lift the lid on my rifle box and he gave me a cheeky look as if he'd just been caught with his hand in a sweet jar. "Emily said that's what you were worried about, you're a twat you know that?"

"So I believe, Emily tells me frequently." I said picking up the rifle case and carrying it inside to be locked away again.

"Do you really think you'll embarrass yourself and the company blondie?" Cook pressed as we walked inside.

"It's always a possibility," I said sliding my weapons across the counter to be locked away safely.

"Well from what I've seen girl, it's not even close to being a possibility, I get the feeling that you're going to give me a real test."

"You've been watching me," I said accusingly as I put my hand on one of the doors and pushed it open, heading for the bar where I knew Emily would be waiting.

"Have to buddy," he said following me up the stairs, "gotta check out who I'm up against; and as you seem to be the main threat to my inevitable victory, I've made it my business to see how you've been doing."

"She's been doing fine James," Emily said, leaning over the stairwell and looking down at us; "and I told you, Naomi doesn't need your comments about it."

"Hey, Emily; a man's got to try and get an advantage you know," James said as he followed me up the stairs.

"Not with my girl he doesn't," she said as I reached her, taking my hand in hers and kissing me on the cheek, "Anyway, I'm here now to make sure your not taking advantage of her."

"Not a word James," I said warningly, watching the cogs turn over in his head at Emily's innocent faux pas. To his credit, at first he didn't say a word, he just stood there with his lips just twitching as Emily flushed bright pink as she realised what she had said. Finally though, the temptation was far too much for him to resist.

"Let me assure you Ma'am, I'm far too much of a gentleman to even _try_ and take advantage of your girl Miss Emily," he said grinning, southern charm in full effect. "Besides, I'm far to scared of both of you to do that!"

"I didn't mean it like that," she said pouting as we both sniggered at her slip. "You pair of fuckers…that's not nice; I was _trying_ to be protective."

"It's ok Ems, I appreciate the role reversal, perhaps James here should give you a job at Close Protection as well."

"I doubt he could afford me, and I doubt I'll forgive you for laughing at me Naomi Campbell."

She pulled on my arm, placing it around her shoulders and wrapped her arm around my waist; snuggling close despite her words. Cook gave us his best cheeky grin and winked at her.

"Looking good Emily Fitch," he said as he walked past us towards the bar. "I do believe Naomi there suits you."

"See," Emily said as the door slammed on Cook and he vanished from view. "Even James thinks you suit me, I think I should keep you around."

"Well you have me for the next eleven months hun," I told her seriously. "Unless your father finds out about us and fires my ass."

"Well if he does babe, I'll fucking hire you myself," she said squeezing my hand emphatically.

"I doubt you could afford me Ems," I said kissing her forehead and laughing as she wrinkled her nose at the smell of honest sweat I was emitting. "I'm not a cheap gig you know?"

"I'd find the money babe," she said letting go of my hand and opening the door; "but I'll have to make you shower more regularly."

"Fuck you Fitch," I said still laughing at her face.

"Hmmm, tempting, but not until you shower Campbell," she said allowing the door to close behind her, getting the last word once more; another point to her in our game of one-upmanship. I allowed myself a rueful grin at the door before taking a sniff of myself and heading of to the toilets for a freshen up.

o+o+o

There was a nice cold drink waiting for me when I finally met up with Emily and Cook, sat thick as thieves in a booth at the back of the club bar. I felt a bit better after having a wash, but I wished that Cook's club actually had a proper changing room and shower complex. As lush as it was, it wasn't exactly a country club; it was a range for people that weren't bothered by the niceties of life. If it wasn't for the fact that I was hanging around with a classy red head, and not a bunch of sweaty squaddies; I wouldn't have been in the slightest bit bothered. As it was her wrinkling nose had told me that I needed to grab my kit bag and get clean.

"Oh good, you're here; what kept you?" Emily said, sliding along on the comfortable looking two-seater bench for me to sit down.

"Needed a wash didn't I?" I said winking at Cook as I grabbed my Coke. "Someone kept hinting that I was stinking up the place and wouldn't let it go."

"Aw, did I hurt your feelings Naomi?" Emily teased, holding out a laminated menu. "Want to choose something from the a'la carte," she flipped the menu over to show me the other side; "or the table d'hotel menu? It's James' treat."

"I think I'll have the house special," I replied feigning contemplation. "The 'fromageburger en bun avec fries' sounds positively divine this afternoon."

"Blondie, I have no idea what you just said, but I'll order you the cheeseburger and fries anyway." Cook said shaking his head and laughing. "Emily?"

"Can I have the cheese salad please James?" Emily said looking at the menu in my hand.

"You not hungry Ems?" I asked confused; knowing that, like me, she'd skipped breakfast in favour of a rare long lie in before we'd headed off to training. "You need to eat something decent you know."

"Just the salad James please," Emily said and James vanished to the bar to order. "Don't look at me like that, I'm not hungry babe."

I continued my worried frown, she'd been eating barely anything for the last couple of days and I was starting to get really concerned. I'd been skirting around the issue all weekend, but now I decided it was time to deal with the issue head on. The last proper meal I'd been her eat was lunch on Thursday and I wasn't happy about it. I looked around to make sure Cook wasn't in earshot and turned to look straight at her.

"Ems, what's going on? You've not eaten properly for three days, it's been all salads and sandwiches and fuck all else. What's the matter?"

"There's nothing wrong with eating salads Naomi, why would you think something's the matter?" she asked defensively.

"Hmm, let me see…" I said feigning thoughtfulness, "In fact, hold on for one second while I put all of my investigative training on this; you're distracted, irritable whenever Katie is around, you keep demanding I train harder and harder and you're not eating much. Now I can accept that there's lots of reasons for most of those things, especially Katie, but for someone that can destroy a Chinese dinner for two almost single-handedly the appetite loss is concerning. You're worrying me hun and you're not supposed to be doing that ok?"

She stared at me, biting her cheek before sighing. "You're far too fucking clever you know that?"

"It's what I get paid for hun; brain _and_ brawn remember? Now what's wrong, is it something to do with us?"

"No, it's just me. This is what I'm like when I'm nervous and I've got a shit load on my mind ok? Next week is going to be fucking massive and I get like this."

"Like what?" I asked putting my hand on her knee and leaning against her casually.

"Like I was before the last big Indian deal, the day after you saved my life. I'd been like this for days, not hungry, irritated with my bitch of a sister…"

"…distracted, nagging and annoyingly driven?" I finished.

"No, that's all new, I think they're your fault Miss Campbell." To my relief I got a broad smile as she sat back next to me and leaned her head on my shoulder.

"All my fault eh?"

"Yeah, all your fault."

"Can I make up for it by taking you out to dinner tonight, somewhere nice; just you and me?"

"Sounds lovely," Ems said taking my hand and squeezing my fingers tenderly.

"But you have to promise me you'll eat something decent." I finished. "A nice steak, or some pasta or something. No more eating fuck all! I like you just the way you are ok?"

"Is that the deal?" Emily asked, smiling again as I made a very big deal of staring at her tits, making sure she knew exactly what I was doing.

"That's the deal!" I said firmly. "I take you out, you eat some proper food and stop me worrying about you; and these guys." I gestured at her chest, "…well, these guys stay the same and don't get any smaller, because that would be a tragedy."

"Nomi," Emily exclaimed flushing slightly and smiling. "You're such a pervert."

I raised an eyebrow as I saw Cook heading over towards us and looked at her expectantly, not allowing her diversionary feint to distract me from the mission at hand.

"Ok," she said finally, "you win. I'm not promising anything, but I'll try ok?"

I winked at her, satisfied with her reply, as Cook slid into the booth opposite us and immediately began distributing knives and forks and the little sachets of ketchup that he'd brought with him.

"Ladies, I have had an absolutely fabulous idea, well if I'm honest Effy thought of it last night, but I'm claiming it as my own because I surely inspired it. The four of us should go out tonight, a double date if you like. Time to relax a bit before next week's mayhem."

Emily and I shared a look as our food was delivered and we were spared from the incessant babble as he dived into the massive double cheeseburger that had been placed in front of him.

"Er…James," Ems said tentatively, lifting up her fork and stabbing at her salad. "Naomi and I sort of have plans."

"So I was thinking we could all head into town," Cook continued as if he hadn't even heard Emily speak. "We can…"

"James," Emily said more firmly, cutting him off in mid flow. "Normally we'd love to, but Naomi and I have plans this evening."

"But.." James said looking a little crestfallen.

"But nothing boss," I said interrupting, "it's been a tough week, and there's worse to come next week. We'd like a bit of time to ourselves you know?"

"Sure, he said slowly. "I get it, time to yourselves…right." He winked and took a huge bite of the burger.

"Fuck off boss," I told him shaking my head. "We're going for dinner and a quiet drink, that's all."

"and hopefully an early night," Emily said from beside me. "It's going to be a really difficult day tomorrow and I really need to get some sleep."

"…and an early night," I said nodding, "we've got a stupidly early start tomorrow."

"and big day on Thursday for you blondie," Cook said dropping his idea for a night out as fast as he'd brought it up. "You better get that burger down you, keep your strength up you know? You're gonna need it to stand a chance against me."

I picked up the cheeseburger and looked across at Emily as she picked at her rabbit food. "See, even Cookie thinks I'm right, you need to eat properly to keep your strength up for the competition _you've_ got coming."

"Shut up Naomi," she said waving her fork at me and pouting. "Don't nag, I said I'd try."

"Yes Miss Fitch," I replied, taking a big bite out of the burger and chewing in silence.

"Blondie, you are so whipped," Cook joked as I swallowed.

"Actually boss, I'm just a total professional; after all, that's what you pay me to be. Even if you do keep trying to ruin my image in front of Miss Fitch here."

"James can't ruin my image of your professional behaviour Naomi, you serve wine wonderfully; like you were born to it."

I nearly choked on my burger at that and gulped down my drink gratefully.

"Something I'm missing Emily?" Cook said, obviously amused at my antics. To my relief, before Emily could embarrass me further Cook's phone rang and he fumbled in his pocket to dig it out.

"Yeah…you're kidding?" he said answering it. "No, it's ok; I'll be there in an hour." He hung up and shoved the phone into his pocket; grabbing his keys from the table and sliding out of the booth.

"Ladies, I'm really sorry but I gotta run, problems at the office. Look, Effy really wants us all to go out; can I promise her we'll do something after the expo? Friday night perhaps?"

"That sounds perfect James, things should be quiet by then, I should be able to relax and enjoy it. We're not flying home until Sunday, so we've got Saturday to recover as well."

"Then it's a date ladies, I'll look forward to it. See you on the range Naomikins; always a pleasure Miss Emily."

I felt a certain sense of peace as Cook left us to our lunch, he's a good guy but he is my boss and as much as he tells me to just 'be' with Emily, his being around doesn't make it easy for me to do that.

"What's the plan for after lunch Nomi?" Emily asked, pushing away her half eaten salad.

"I hadn't given it a thought Ems, I assumed you'd had a meeting today with the earlier start here."

"Nope, I told you last night I actually have a day off today. It's supposed to be so I can relax before the madness, not that I can actually do that of course."

"Want me to teach you how to shoot that pistol you got me?"

I couldn't help but grin as she shuddered dramatically; I never actually expected her to say yes, I know how much she hates guns. I do, however, know the right answer; he one that will win me brownie points.

"Shopping then?"

"I thought you'd never ask," she replied grinning like a child faced with a bag of sweets. I felt a little warm surge of pleasure at seeing her happy, but I had one request to make before we braved the rigors of the local mall.

"Can we at least go back to the hotel so I can have a shower and get changed before we head out?"

"I thought you'd never ask that either," Ems said, slipping her hand up my thigh under the table, sending a shiver up my spine. "Mind if I join you?"

"I thought _you'd_ never ask," I replied teasingly, mimicking her accent as best I could. "You want to get out of here?"

"Definitely, I'm anxious to clean those dragons of yours."

Perhaps shopping wouldn't be too bad after all.

.

.

.

**Authors Note **– Next stop the Expo itself, and a bit less filler and a bit more action, it can't be far away from that competition.


	43. Weebles Wobble

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness, a heavy case of writers block and a ex I could happily put in 'The Basement' with Naomi right now!

I still nothing to do with Skins, (but then do we care about Skins any more? Well until that Gen 2 Movie appears anyway).

**Authors Note **– Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you..Happy Birthday Close Protection; Happy Birthday to you!

Wow, one whole year since I started this fic in fire…can't believe you're still reading it. Thank you all for sticking with it, it makes it more special because this is a big chapter in the story and until I realised I didn't have a good excuse why it isn't on a '0' or a '5'.

Anyway, enough rambling, please enjoy peeps, see you next week.

**Chapter 43 – Weebles Wobble…**

"Well that is excellent news, I look forward to meeting with you and your team," Emily said shaking hands with the large man in the flashy uniform, covered in braid and medals. "If you get your people to contact my PA General Kazir, we'll set something up for when you're in London."

She smiled warmly as he walked away, her face falling the second he disappeared into the crowd, I could see now why she had once told me that she thought military officials were moronic twats; why she thought that some of them seemed to think that she should use sex as a bargaining tool. The oversized and over-dressed African General she had been talking to had hardly been subtle in his admiration for my girl. He reminded me of the dead guy from Gereshk, he'd looked at me in much the same way, with the same piggy eyes.

"What a twat," Emily mouthed to me as the stand cleared for a second; I winked my agreement to her, my face set. Within seconds she was whisked away again, one of the stand 'monkeys' calling her over to meet yet another man in yet another colourful uniform.

It had been an interesting week at the Expo, getting to see how the other half lived. As a soldier you heard about these events; huge get togethers where manufacturers and dealers laid on lavish stands, and flashy events; all designed to woo the people with buying power in the worlds official and private armies. They cropped up regularly; often, like this one, with a massive public face. Events like the Farnborough Air Show were fancy for the public with the displays and the flypasts; but the real deals were done behind closed doors, far away from the 'ooh's' and 'ahh's' of the great unwashed, out for a nice day in the sun.

This event was much the same, just bigger; a great public face where the average American could look at the very latest in weaponry they could spend their hard earned dollars on. Everywhere I looked, spread out over two big halls, there was stand after stand of shops, dealers and arms companies selling everything from a .50 sniper rifle to a replica 'Wild West' revolver. I'd even seen one stand selling working cannons, huge replica's of Civil War artillery! I mean really, the mind really does fucking boggle; I hated to think the damage that one of those in the hands of a nutter could do.

Away from the smaller stands, in the main hall, there was the main event, where the big players were schmoozed; the military, the police, personal protection units, security firms and anyone and everyone else that had the cash to buy big, they were all drawn here by the big stands, the pretty girls and the freebies. Each and every one of them was here looking for a deal, and nearly all of them seemed to be looking for someone to make them feel special enough to hand over their biggest part of their budget.

It was pretty much how all us mere grunts imagined these events to be really. Whitey used to tell everyone that our weapons were made by the lowest bidder, and sold by the highest briber. Emily had laughed when I'd told her what he had said over our dinner on Sunday night.

"He wasn't a million miles off if I'm totally honest babe," she'd replied. "I leave all that shit to Katie though; I do the deals and the hard negotiations, she does the pissing about and making people feel good. Well actually her team do all the real work, naturally she does fuck all herself."

This had become a running argument between them throughout the course of the week; the sibling rivalry threatening to erupt into violence as Katie flounced from event to event and Emily stressed over deal after deal. One thing I hadn't realised was just how hard these events were, Fitch Industries seemed to be a pretty big player in the market, yet it seemed to be down to Emily alone to organise the endless logistics of supply and demand. They may profess their affection for each other as sisters, but when it comes to work there is no love lost between them and I doubt that will ever change; and as Katie has been nowhere to be seen for most of the week, if it _was_ going to change, it wouldn't be now.

I was actually enjoying the rivalry between them, it was the only moments of excitement in what had become an extremely dull week. Not even my regular runs to the range, now first thing in the morning and again after the stands closed, could make up for the monotony of standing around with nothing to do; or even worse, dealing with the people Cook sent my way to _"see a Close Protection operative in action"_. I was only halfway through the week and I'd already had enough of 'being famous'. At least it was only half a day tomorrow, the big competition an excuse for many of the big wigs to decamp from the halls and take up residence in their touring palaces; tents and motor homes decked out to impress. With so many events taking place over the afternoon it had turned into a great big away day; no wonder James was so anxious to prove how good he was, by the sounds of things everyone and anyone would be there.

"Naomi?"

I turned from watching the faceless crowd as Emily called across to me. I'd tried to be discrete during the week, more or less hiding at the back of the impressive Fitch Industries stand. I'd spent my time watching the crowd that approached for any sign of trouble; I wasn't actually expecting any, I wasn't going to take any chances. Nothing was going to happen to Emily on my watch, for both personal and professional reasons; and it's definitely not going to happen when my boss is in the same room singing our praises to potential clients.

As I looked across at her, I saw her beckoning me over with a smile on her face. It wasn't a real smile though, I hadn't seen much of her real smiles during the last few days; even when we found a moment to ourselves she seemed withdrawn, a far cry from the happy person I had persuaded to have a nice, romantic meal with me on Sunday night. Everything had become so laboured between us with the stresses and strains of the Expo, she'd even resorted to sniping at me about my protectiveness; it was like we were back at the start again, back at fucking Fitch Manor. I didn't like it, but I was trying to be understanding; I knew she was stressed, and I know she was just taking it out on me. Because of that I took it all, but I couldn't help but feel that it would be nice to see that real smile back on Emily's face; and I made a note to see what I could do about putting it back where it belonged. Short of strapping her twin to a target and shooting her full of holes that was.

"Yes Miss Fitch?" I said professionally as I stepped up beside her, suddenly realising there was someone stood with her.

"Ah Naomi; this is Hayley, _apparently_ she has some forms for you."

"Forms?" I asked the tall brunette who was smiling at us both. She was clearly one of the hired models that were acting as runners for the organisers. I'd spent some time with a few of them and the other models that were working the stands over the last couple of days; well a couple of them _had_ come over talking to me at lunch one day and it _would_ have been rude to just dismiss them. Plus, Emily or no Emily, I'm not going to say 'no' to being surrounded by pretty girls; just because I'm not interested in them doesn't mean it wasn't fun.

To my great surprise, they were really nice, I really wasn't expecting that. I know it's shallow of me, but I didn't really have a high opinion of people in that business; how wrong I was. They had a real mix of personalities as well; some of the girls I met were students working their way through college, some were professionals making a living going from event to event looking good for the 'punters'. Some of them were exactly what you would think they would be, vacuous and shallow; but the majority of them were smart; book smart _and_ street smart. Despite myself I really enjoyed hanging around with them, in an event full of false formality they were a breath of fresh air; and they gossiped like squaddies, swore like them as well, behind the scenes of course. It made the boring breaks I took, whilst Emily was tied up in those seemingly endless business meetings, that little bit more sociable.

"Just a little formality for tomorrows competition Naomi," she replied casually all teeth and tits, "nothing too arduous". I stared back at her, racking my brains to remember if we'd actually spoken or if she was just doing the false friendliness that plagued the public arena. As I stared at her I got a nudge in the side from Emily and looked at her to receive a stern glare.

"The papers Naomi," she told me all hints of her good mood seemingly vanished, that false smile back on her face, "I doubt Hayley has got all day." I took the papers the brunette was holding out with a polite smile and a nod.

"If you could complete those and bring them with you tomorrow Naomi," Hayley said holding out her hand for me to shake. "We'll get you all sorted out ready for the afternoon; I'm really looking forward to seeing you in action. Have a nice evening, if you need anything let me know; my numbers at the top of the paperwork."

Her handshake was lingering and with a gently squeeze of my fingers she said her goodbyes and strutted off, her arse waggling as she went, getting second glances from all the men she passed. I shook my head in disbelief and looked across at Ems with an amused smirk. Emily, however, was no longer smiling, Emily was just standing there staring at me; if looks could kill I was deader than a dodo, something told me I was in trouble.

o+o+o

"What the fuck was that about Naomi?" Emily hissed as we got into the back of the car we've been driven around in all week; heading back to our hotel.

"What was all what about?" I asked, guessing what she was referring to, but wondering where she was going with it; I didn't expect that she would react this badly though.

"You and that fucking Hayley girl. Jesus Naomi could you have flirted any harder with her?"

"I was _not_ flirting with her Ems," I said quickly, trying to defend myself. I replayed that conversation in my head and concluded that I was right, I _hadn't_ been flirting with her. Fucks sake, I wasn't even the slightest bit interested in her, she reminded me far too much of someone else, someone that wasn't Emily.

"Naomi, I was stood next to you for fucks sake. I saw it all, Jesus I fucking _watched_ you doing it..."

"Ems," I interrupted as calmly as I could, trying to reassure her. "I'm telling you, I was not flirting with her; she _might_ have been trying to flirt with me, but I have no interest in her at all. For one thing…" I started, staring into the brown eyes that were looking hurt, brown eyes that turned away to stare out of the cars window, I could see her blinking furiously in the reflection and I pressed on regardless.

"...for one thing, she's too much like my ex; and for another, very important thing," I said leaning across and cupping her chin with my hand; tuning her head and drawing her towards me gently. "…I happen to be very happy with a beautiful, if a little short, red head of my acquaintance."

"I am _not_ short," she replied swiftly, her eyes softening slightly from the agate rocks that they had been moments before; "but you _have_ been spending far too much time with those girls for my liking."

"Ems," I said, running my fingers down her cheek, "are you jealous or something?"

"No, no I'm not. She said folding her arms across her chest, but not removing me hand. "I'm not jealous. Why would I be jealous?"

"I have no idea," I said closing the distance between us and kissing her cheek, "no idea at all. But you seemed ok before I came over to speak to that girl, and you've been angry with me ever since."

"Well I'm not," she said huffily leaning back and folding her arms. "I just think that you spend too much time with them that's all. It seems whenever I turn my back you fuck off to hang around with them, and I'm not sure I like it."

"Who _else_ can I hang around with babe?" I asked her, sliding across the bench seat in frustration; leaning against my own door. "_You_ don't take a break, _Cook_ doesn't take a break; apart from Effy or Katie, who are never around, I don't know anyone else here. I went for lunch one day and got chatting, it was just nice to have someone else to talk to you know?"

She looked at me, those expressive eyes hardening one more as I bit back. For some reason that annoyed me more than the jealousy and the suspicion. Before I knew what I'd done, I'd used a line that seemed to haunt me through my last relationship and finished it with a slap.

"A little bit of trust wouldn't go amiss Emily; Jesus you're acting just like Amy used to."

I held her gaze for a second and watched as her jaw fell in shock and surprise; after a second she looked down at the hands that were now wringing each other in her lap. I turned away, staring out of the window myself, mimicking her posture from moments ago. I was actually more than a little annoyed with her, I don't mind the idea that she was jealous, at least she was jealous of the right thing; unlike Amy. But the idea that she thought so little of me, that she didn't actually trust me, hurt more than a bit. It was a weird feeling actually, one that I wasn't really used to. I don't do feelings, not like these anyway, and I grumbled inside my head at the effect she was having on me.

"Naomi?" Emily said, reaching out to touch my shoulder. I stared out at the passing shops, banks of mini-mall's and liquor stores and everything in between, passing by as we drove back to our hotel. "Naomi, it's not a question of not trusting you, it's just…"

"Just what?" I said, staring intently at a passing fuel station, avoiding the need to turn around and look at her.

"Nothing, nothing important anyway, just me I guess," her voice trailed off and I felt her hand leave my shoulder. I wanted to turn around and see what was the matter, but the stubborn part of my mind kept me staring out of that window, staring out at the passing snippets of Americana.

We lapsed into silence for the rest of the journey; I was lost in my own thoughts, but there were far too many to contemplate. What I really needed was some time alone; I needed was some time in the hotel pool where I could get my head together and come to terms with what was going on. Our relationship had hardly been rushed, not by my standards anyway; but it had taken some pretty big steps recently, and I wasn't at all ready for another bout of living with a jealous bitch. I needed some time on my own, of that I was sure. My decision made, I picked up the phone Cook had given me and flicked through the contacts until I found the name I needed.

'_Hi its Naomi if u rlly want 2 b a frnd I need a favour'_

I stared down at the pidgin English, my thumb hovering over the send button, I took a slow breath and pressed it, before sitting back and waiting for the reply that might never come. To my shock it was mere seconds before the phone buzzed in my hand

'_What do you need, RU ok?'_

'_Sort of. I need time alone, can U distract E for me? Wthout her knowing?'_

There was a short delay before the phone buzzed again.

'_Done'_ came the reply lifting my spirits, _'girlie time at the hotel spa shd do it, if you need me, call me ok?'_

I sighed mentally in relief, already feeling the tension easing. I know that the whole thing is silly but right now? Right now I need it like I need a hole in my head.

o+o+o

I sat on my bed in our hotel room, wondering what the fuck had happened between us; I mean I'm hardly an expert at relationships but I did think things were going well between us. Certainly I didn't think I'd done anything that would have warranted her reaction, I didn't think I'd done anything wrong. I was sat going through my thoughts when I heard a knock at my door; calling out for the person to enter I looked up to see if it was Emily, instead I found myself looking into the smiling face of James Cook.

"You alright Blondie?" he asked, closing the door behind him. "Guess not," he finished, tilting his head at me and sitting himself down on the bed.

"Look James I don't…"

"…want to talk about it, I get it Naomi. Look, Effy told me you needed Emily distracted, and I thought I'd best tag along to stop you worrying your little head about her. I figured you'd want to know."

"Right," I said feeling a bit foolish; "thanks boss."

"That's ok kiddo; now don't worry about Emily, whatever the fuck is going on I'm sure Effy will sort it for you. If you need someone to talk to thought, well…"

"Yeah, thanks boss," I said smiling a weak smile. "I think I've got that covered though, I just need a bit of time on my own."

"I think JJ and I have been telling you that blondie; you and Emily, it's cute an'all but you've not been apart for longer than five minutes for weeks, and that ain't healthy."

"On the contrary boss, being apart for longer than five minutes seems to have been the problem."

Cook shrugged and shook his head at me, before he could reply there was a call from the other room and he stood up, patting my shoulder as he did so.

"See you later Naomikins, you take care now ok?"

I nodded and fell backwards onto the bed, staring up at he ceiling. I half expected Emily to poke her head around the door to say goodbye; but she didn't, and within seconds I heard the door to the suite close and all of a sudden I was alone.

It was a strange feeling, being alone. Strange and familiar, I'd been alone so many times in my life it was bizarre how quickly I'd got used to having Emily around, it was surprising how weird it felt knowing that she was out there without me.

I rolled across the bed and picked up the phone, dialling down to reception and asking them to put me through to the UK. I gave them the number I had memorised, and after a short wait I heard a tired, but familiar, voice pick up.

"Hello?"

"Joanna, it's Naomi Campbell," I said, feeling guilty as my brain did the maths and I realised how late it was over there.

"Naomi, this is unexpected," Joanna said, her voice suddenly alert as if a switch had been flicked on in her head; suddenly she was Dr Joanna Foster and I could almost hear her brain working as she switched modes. "What's the matter?"

"That obvious am I?" I joked feebly.

"Naomi you've rung me at quarter to eleven at night, on a number I told you to use if you needed me. Of course it's obvious, now tell me what's going on in that head of yours. Is it the nightmares again?"

"No," I told her emphatically, "the nightmares have been easier recently." They had as well, they hadn't gone away but they were manageable. The little revelation about Whitey's death taking the edge off my guilt.

"So it's Emily then, what's gone wrong between you two?" she said cutting to the chase immediately; I could hardly blame her that late at night.

"It's all been a bit weird," I said, trying to vocalise the thoughts that were running riot in my skull. "Emily and I have got a lot closer over the last few days…"

"ahhhh, you two took the plunge then. Took your relationship to the next level so to speak."

"We've been sleeping together if that's what you mean," I replied a little tersely.

"Yes Naomi," Joanna sighed, "that's exactly what I meant. So are you going to tell me what's bothering you, or are you just going to start fighting me again?"

"I have no idea what's going on, that's what's bothering me. Emily blew her stack at me today for hanging around with some of the girls from the show. She's spent every minute here in meetings and she's having a hissy fit because I found some people to talk to. It's fucking ridiculous, she's acting like my ex."

"Like Amy? How so?"

I outlined Emily's behaviour over the last couple of days, the distance, the sniping and of course the conversation in the car.

"So you appreciate she's stressed out about the exhibition?" Joanna asked when I finished recounting my side of the story. I just grunted my agreement.

"Naomi, you're just having a wobble."

"A wobble," I repeated stupidly, wondering what she meant.

"Yes Naomi a wobble. Let's face it, you both have issues, you've both been through a lot recently and you've just taken a pretty big step at a time that's not exactly relaxing for either of you."

"That's as may be," I told her, "but it's like she's trying to blame me for something, and I've done nothing wrong."

"..and you're trying to blame her for not being around when she's just doing her job. Jesus Naomi, I though we were making progress with you."

I bristled at her interruption, only to hear her laugh at the other end of the phone. "Look Naomi, this is nothing to worry about, everyone goes through this at some stage in their relationship. You've not because you've always had the opportunity to run away from..."

"I _don't_ run away from things," I nearly shouted down the phone, again I could hear the amusement in Joanna's voice.

"Oh Naomi, of course you run away from things, everything you've told me over the last few weeks tells me that. You might not do it literally all the time, like you did with Amy; but you do run away from things. Listen," she said as I went to interrupt her once more; "you used your attitude to run away from the problems you had at school and with your mother, you used the Army to run away from Amy, and you use that head of yours to run away from everything else."

"That's not true," I retorted feebly, knowing that it was.

"Let me guess," Joanna pressed, "you're sat alone, Emily's off somewhere else and you're already thinking of going swimming so you can think it all through."

I didn't reply, the fucking woman knew me too well. The silence continued to hang between us like a veil until finally Joanna spoke again.

"Naomi, it's late and I'm tired, but I want you to do this for me. When you go swimming, rather than just fume about Emily, I want you to think about the _whole_ situation, and how you're reacting to it all and more importantly _why_. I want you to be totally honest with yourself about everything ok?"

"Yeah," I said finally.

"Good," came the reply; "now if you don't mind it's quite late and my husband is giving me daggers for keeping him awake talking. Think about what I said Naomi, it's just a wobble, your first wobble with Emily, probably your first wobble ever. It's not that big a deal, but how you handle it is; you just have to think about what's important to you, can you do that?"

"I can," I said confidently, sitting up on the bed. "Thanks Joanna, I'm sorry to have disturbed you so late."

"That's ok Naomi, that's what I'm here for, call me if you need me ok? Just, see if it can wait until the morning please. Good night Naomi, good luck."

"Good night Joanna, thanks again."

The line went dead and I tossed the handset onto the bed. "Wobble," I snorted dismissively as I jumped to my feet rooting in my drawer for my swimsuit. "What am I, a fucking Weeble?"

o+o+o

Thirty minutes later I wasn't quite so dismissive. It was dinnertime at the hotel and their small indoor pool was now empty, there had been a small family in when I arrived, screaming and laughing as they splashed away together; but by the time I'd got changed they were gone. Presumably joining everyone else in the search for their evening meal.

I wasn't hungry, I was annoyed and for length after length I ignored Joanna's advice and stewed and fumed about the utter injustice of Emily having a go at me over just talking to some other girls. We were dating sure, sort of; we were sleeping together even, mostly She didn't fucking own me though, she couldn't dictate who the fuck I spoke to and how. With my mind racing, I dived headlong into the pool; cutting through the wavelets like a knife.

As the water surrounded me, enveloping me in it's cooling embrace I found the solace I'd been searching for and missing for weeks. Joanna's techniques were good, but they were no substitute for the real thing; they were no substitute for the sheer ecstatic bliss of submerging yourself in real water and just losing yourself swimming. As my pulse pounded away in my head from the exertions I bullied my way through the water, not even feigning the attempt to be graceful. I knew that I needed to clear out my anger before I could even attempt to follow Joanna's advice. With that in mind I pushed myself harder and harder until I could feel my lungs burning with the strain.

For length after length of the short pool I swam away my worries; as my anger passed through the cleansing effort of good, honest exercise, I came to the realisation Joanna had probably been pushing me towards. I thought about everything we'd gone through; how stressed Emily had been and how stressed I had become about everything too.

Perhaps I had, in turn, overreacted to her overreaction; perhaps I had been a bit unfair in saying what I had, chucking the Amy-bomb in her face and not even apologising for doing it. It's funny how you can hurt someone without meaning to, funny how you could be hurt without expecting it…and that was it wasn't it, the whole fucking truth. Emily had fucking managed to hurt me…me!

Just how the fuck had that happened? How the fuck did she sneak in under the wire and ambush me? When did she make me care that much?

It hit me hard as I swam; until now there had been only one person in my life that had the capacity to hurt me with just a word, with just a disappointed look; and she was long dead. The realisation was difficult for me to take, I cared about Emily, I cared about her a lot more than I had realised.

o+o+o

My swim was disturbed by the slamming of a door, the peace shattered by footsteps walking towards the tiny changing room. I ploughed onwards through the water, desperate to get those last few, glorious, moments of peace and tranquillity while I could; before the holidaymakers returned the pool to the screaming playpen it had been when I'd arrived.

After another ten lengths I realised that my little slice of American heaven was still intact; that whomever had walked in on me hadn't actually entered the water yet, that I was still alone.

Curiously that disturbed my concentration more than the splashing and screaming would have done; that gnawing curiosity eating away at me until I could stand it no more. Halfway down the length I saw something out of the corner of my eye as I took a quick breath; a flash of red flicked into and out of my vision as I completed my stroke and with a lurch I pulled up to see what it was I had seen.

I don't think it was much of a surprise when I saw that Emily was stood at the edge of the pool watching me.

"Hi," she said as I turned to face her, my arms and legs moving to keep me afloat. "I er...I didn't know where you were."

"Looks like you found me though," I replied, calming my breathing.

"Yeah, I guessed you might be down here," she said with what looked like tears in her eyes. "I wanted to come and speak to you."

I pulled myself out of my swim lane and paddled over towards her, pausing a few feet from the edge. We looked at each other in silence for a while before Ems took a deep breath and let it out, screwing her eyes tightly closed.

"You were right Nomi, I was jealous…I _am_ jealous," she blurted out, a sob in her voice. She opened her eyes and looked up at the glass ceiling. I felt the water lap against my neck as I floated there, waiting for her to continue.

"I admit it," she continued, another tear falling, "I'm a jealous bitch and I'm really, really sorry; I didn't trust you and that wasn't fair of me."

"Thank you," I said simply, treading water carefully.

"I don't have an excuse, but I do have an explanation; I think you need to you need to know why I acted like I did," she said, kicking off her sandals and sitting down on the edge, her feet making waves as she dunked them into the water. "It's only fair; you've shared so much of your past with me, it's time I did the same."

"Only if _you_ need to tell me," I replied softly, glad that the pool was still empty. "Don't do it for me."

"I _want_ to do it for you," she replied, the words spewing out through her falling tears, "I need you to understand ok? I don't want to be like Amy, I'm _not_ like Amy, I'm not jealous because I want to control you like she did, I'm jealous because I don't want to lose you."

"Lose me?" I asked, paddling a bit closer to her. "What are you on about?"

Emily screwed her face up tight and rubbed at her eyes with her hands, smearing her make up as she did so.

"I was scared Nomi, so fucking scared that I would lose you so soon after I found you, it's not like it would be the first time it's happened to me."

I waited silently, the lapping of the water between us the only noise I could hear; apart from Emily's breathing that was, breathing that was punctuated by sniffles.

"When I was an undergraduate at Oxford, I fell in love with one of the older students. I mean proper head over heels in love, not just a silly infatuation. Her name…" she paused looking out across the pool. "Well it's not important what her name was, but she was the first person I fell for, and I fell hard. I was in my second year, and she was in her last; I won't go into the details, but she was the one that chased me and I loved it. For the first time in my life someone wanted me, not Katie; I was the centre of attention and it was for all the right reasons. I was going by mums maiden name when I was there, I didn't want any of the shit I got at Cheltenham Ladies, so she didn't know who I was. She certainly didn't realise I was the daughter of a multi-millionaire arms dealer that I do know. Anyway, we dated for a while, I held back because I wanted her to prove herself to me; you know, convince me she was serious. Finally though I gave in, she was my first and we spent a wonderful night together; anyway, it was all fucking bullshit, and in the morning she was gone and she never returned one of my calls."

Emily wiped her eyes with her sleeve and I placed my hands onto those dangling legs soothingly.

"Anyway three days later I saw her around campus with one of the freshers; to make matters worse it was a man as well, I had no idea she was bi, no idea at all. I realised then that she really wasn't in love with me the way she said she was, that the minute she got what she wanted, she was off to her next conquest."

Emily paused and sighed, the sound was almost heartbreaking, as if she was emptying herself with this little story, which in a way, I guess, she was. "I really did think she loved me you know, I thought we had a connection. Turns out that all she was interested in was the chase; once she had me I was old news and time to move on."

"That's shit hun," I told her, kicking myself for the stupidity of the phrase, she knew it was shit of course she did.

"Yeah, it was. Fucked me up for a while, more than a while actually. That's when I met Joanna and she turned me around, gave me a desire to help people that felt as bad as I did."

"Give me her name and she's dead," I said with feeling, hating this unnamed girl with a passion for fucking up the wonderful person I'd come to know.

"No need," she replied with a wry smile. "I told Katie about it once when she came to visit, when we were getting along that is. We got drunk one night and it all came out, she wasn't best pleased."

"I can imagine," I laughed running my hands up and down her bare calf's. "I get the feeling that this girl regretted her actions."

"Just a little, Katie got me to burn her at her graduation, I totally tore her apart…in public as well. I got payback in a big way, I guess that was the birth of the bitch, the one that's defensive and hateful and, well…jealous."

"Look Ems, I'm sorry too, I'm sorry that I said you were like Amy, I was angry…I was angry because it hurt that you didn't trust me; I was angry because I care. But you don't have to be jealous Ems, not of me, not like that, not because of some stupid fucking girls in a lunch queue; I love you too much to fuck you over, especially for something that cheap."

I felt the cool waters of that small hotel pool cover my head as I was ducked under the water by the flailing figure, I managed to take a fleeting gasp of air just before I was pulled under and a pair of lips pressed against mine. As we hit the bottom I opened my eyes and saw, through the watery blur, a vision of long red hair surrounding me like the tentacles of an octopus, drawing me in.

Finally I kicked with my legs and pushed us both to the surface, having to fight to keep us afloat as Emily's legs were wrapped around my waist, her arms around my neck. Taking a breath, as her lips briefly released me, I used my arms to scull us down to the shallow end where I could finally stand and rest my legs.

"You know the rules say 'no petting' don't you?" I told Emily as she buried her head into my shoulder, holding me tightly.

"Fuck the rules," she replied, her voice echoing around the bare building.

"I think you've ruined your clothes too."

"Fuck my clothes as well," came the amused reply. I felt the vice like grip around my neck ease as Emily leaned back; her hands coming up to my cheeks, her fingers caressing y cheekbones.

"I don't care about rules, or clothes Nomi. I don't care about any of that shit, I love you too."

"Oh…well...that's all right then." I said smiling at her, trying to keep the hint of fear and relief from my voice.

'_Oh shit, what the fuck have I done?'_

.

.

.

**Authors Note **– Competition time… (-: But before that, a little Es rant; because I haven't had a rant for a while and I was annoyed recently. As you may know, my mate Stunty recently announced a hiatus on her latest story "What If". I know her reasons for it, and I know that the attitudes of a few people around here were, in part, a cause of that need for a break. I was, however, pretty shocked to see that one person set up an account to leave this little review…

"_LikeIcare_

_Well fuck off then, yr fics are shit anyway you retard."_

Well then, it's made all the more funny to me because *I* know about an envelope that Stunty received about one of her 'shit fics' that refutes that argument. I also know that 'Anything to Declare' was a great story that I and others thoroughly enjoyed and 'What If' was original and had fantastic potential.

I also wonder if Stunty's fics are so shit why _'LikeIcare'_ not only bothered to read them, but bothered to create a username just to review to say how shit they were.

I hate this people, I really do. Bitter, sour grapes, nasty, call it what you will but it's all the same result; _'LikeIcare'_ I hope you're happy, I know you've reinforced Stunty's opinion of the darker side of FFN and I doubt we'll see her write again, (though I hope I'm wrong). I also hope you're actually happy, I hope that you feel a warm glow in your sad and pathetic heart that you've managed to deny us one more person that puts hours of their life into giving us all something to enjoy FOR FREE FFS; no charge, no bill. Just the hope of a nice word, a bit of encouragement and a coherent review.

So if you're the person responsible for the false account that is _'LikeICare'_ I don't want you reading _my_ stories either, any of them; so stop it, because they're probably shit too. Go away, and take your bile with you.

Rant over; sorry guys, see you next time! Don't give me a reason to rant again ok? (-:


	44. The 'L' Word

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness, a heavy case of writers block and a ex I could happily put in the Basement with Naomi right now!

I still nothing to do with Skins, (but then do we care about Skins any more? Well until that Gen 2 Movie appears anyway).

**Chapter 44 – The 'L' Word**

Morning came early to drag me from an troubled sleep. I woke up as the sunlight came creeping across the my bedroom floor; passing over the remnants of a room service dinner and discarded, still damp, clothes. As I lay there, my brain doing another panicked lap of the room, I watched its steady progression towards me, waiting for it to wake the snoring red head who was cuddled at my side.

"Ugh," Emily grunted as the light finally hit her face, making her hair glisten as it lay on the pillow, looking a bit bedraggled after its early evening dip the night before. "Fucking sunshine, I was having such a nice dream as well."

I couldn't help but smile as her hand slipped from my waist and reached above her head to drag down a pillow; pulling it over her face. "S'better," she said snuggling herself further into my shoulder. "We don't have to go shooting this morning do we love?"

"No," I said softly, hiding the fear that gripped me at her new favourite term for me. "No shooting this morning Ems, there's going to be plenty of that later."

"Good, because I don't want to move from here, I want a lie in today," came the muffled response.

"We'll have to get up for breakfast soon Ems, you still have that stand of yours to run you know?"

"Five more minutes Nomi, just give me five more minutes sleep ok?"

I looked across at the clock on the bedside table, it was still early, very early in fact; she could have her five minutes and then some. I closed my eyes, as her tiny fingers wriggled their way between mine, and tried to get a bit more sleep; today was going to be a very busy day. I'd been waking up regularly through the night, fits of panic taking hold of me over my impromptu admission in the pool. It's not the fact that I used the 'L' word, I've used that word many times before, genuinely to Mum, tactically to Amy, in affection to Whitey. No, it wasn't the word itself, it was the manner in which I used it that was causing me problems. I'd told Emily I loved her and I'd meant it.

I fucking meant it…

…and she'd told me that she loves me too!

Just how much shit am I in?

Joanna would probably tell me I was having issues with commitment, or some such shit; that it was perfectly natural and that I would just need to work my way through them. Whitely would have told me I was being a twat, and that I should be happy someone like Emily would be interested in me, let alone confess to loving me. Mum would probably pat me on the head like a five year old and say, _"that's lovely dear; now, how about a nice cup of tea while you tell me all about her."_

I don't love people, fucking hell I barely allow myself to _like_ people for fear that the Campbell curse would strike again. People I love die, people I like leave me _or_ die; it's all messed up. I can't love Emily, I just can't…

…and yet I do.

"Nomi?" Emily said tugging on my hand. I grunted in response, not opening my eyes.

"I asked if you were ok babe," she said, still muffled by the pillow that covered her pretty face.

"I'm fine Ems," I said lying casually. "Just thinking of going back to sleep, that's all."

"You can talk to me about it you know, I'll understand."

I felt myself tense slightly at her words, regretting the action as soon as it was done, knowing that she would have felt it.

"I get it Naomi, I really do," she said pushing up the pillow revealing her brown eyes, filled with affection rather than the hurt I had expected. I know that yesterday wasn't planned, but that makes it better for me; you told me how you felt and I did the same. It doesn't have to change things between us at all."

"I didn't say anyt…"

I started to deny it, but was shushed by a finger placed firmly on my lips. "It's ok Naomi, I said I understand and I mean it. I know that this is difficult for you and I don't care, no pressures and no more jealousy ok, not from me anyway? Let's try and just be, and see how far this ride takes us yes?"

"Yeah," I said sadly, feeling a bit guilty that despite my slip last night in the pool I wasn't sure if I could allow myself to accept how I really felt. I guess it'll be one more thing to discuss with Joanna when I get back to London.

"Yeah…I think I can do that Ems, I think _we_ can do that."

"Good," Emily replied, pulling the pillow over her eyes again. "Now hopefully you will be able to get some proper sleep now; you've kept me awake all night you know, and not in a good way I hasten to add."

I couldn't help the smile that passed across my face at her teasing, I felt her chuckle at my side, her tiny frame rocking against me before a loud yawn cut it off in it's stride.

"Time for that five minutes snooze," she said through the yawn, slipping her hand into mine again.

"Time for that couple of _hours_ snooze hun," I replied shuffling down on the pillows until I was comfortable, Emily glued to me like a limpet. I pulled the top of the duvet over our heads to block the invasive sunlight, and gently eased the pillow off her face.

"Mmmmm," she murmured as I pulled her a little closer to me with my trapped arm, the one that was attached to the shoulder she was using as a pillow, the one that had very little feeling left; "that's nice babe, thank you."

"Welcome," I replied yawning and closing my eyes one more, "night Ems."

"Morning Nomi," she corrected squeezing my hand once more; there was a short silence, punctuated only by our breathing before…

"I meant it you know; I wasn't just saying it…I meant every word, I really do love you Naomi Easter Moonbeam Campbell. I didn't expect to, but I really do."

I bit my lip, the words 'I love you too' catching painfully in my throat. Instead, I simply squeezed her soft, delicate fingers; so different from my own, and told her something that was both true, and safe.

"I know."

o+o+o

We were joined for breakfast by a grinning 'Cook family'; James and Effy winding their way through the tables filled with business people and holidaymakers over to the corner where Emily and I were sat placing our order with the waitress.

"Ladies," Cook said as he pulled back a chair for Effy to sit down on, "how are we this morning?"

"Good," Emily said smiling at Effy who had raised an eyebrow at her. "You?"

"We're fine Emily," Effy said looking at me pointedly. "We missed you two at dinner last night, I take it you settled your differences? Hope you haven't worn Naomi out too much Emily, she's got a big day today."

I poured a glass of orange juice from the jug on the table and passed it across to my blushing lover, who was busily staring out of the window.

"I'm fine thank you Eff, Emily and I had a chat and decided to have dinner in our room," I replied unabashed. "Strawberries and ice-cream are much more fun in private don't you find?"

"Naomi!" Emily exclaimed blushing even more fiercely, her cheeks now almost matching the colour of her hair. "We did not have strawberries and ice-cream," she said to a grinning Cook who looked like a boy who's Christmases had come at once.

"No," I said looking straight at Cook and winking, "but I'm not telling them what we really had."

"Oh blondie, if you're trying to put me off my stride with fables of your sex life it's not going to work," he said winking back. "The Cookiemonster will not be put off by anything today, the Cookiemonster is on top of his fucking game…fear me Campbell you don't stand a chance in this competition."

He pointed his fingers at me like a pistol and mimed the hammer dropping with his thumb. I rolled my eyes at Emily who was looking at him as if he had just eaten a baby.

"Enough posturing James," Effy said, casually taking a sip of her water, "I've seen it all before, Naomi and Emily aren't interested; and there aren't any men here to be impressed by your testosterone overdose."

The three of us laughed as Effy deflated Cook instantly, Even if Cook seemed completely unamused, he couldn't resist playing along. "Ouch," he said, sitting back in his chair and waving over one of the waiting staff. "Hit a man where it hurts why don't you? Not nice little darlin'!"

Effy looked across at Emily and did a creditable job of rolling her eyes dramatically. As I watched, I spotted Emily glance at me and look away quickly and I wondered exactly what they had talked about on their little spa visit. I also wondered what Emily and indeed Effy would make of the things I'd had done to me when I was dragged from the streets onto the world of girlie spas; I wonder if they would believe me if I told them what I'd let them do.

"So, blondie…are you ready to get your ass handed to you this afternoon?" Cook said with a broad grin on his face, ignoring our partners entirely.

"As I'll ever be boss," I replied coolly, "I could have done with six months more practice I have to say. I'm pretty rusty."

"You'll be fine," Emily said emphatically, "more than fine…don't forget you have your secret weapons."

"Secret weapons indeed," Cook said laughing, "that c-mag of yours is gonna jam harder than a stubborn mule and your day will be done Naomikins. Fitch Industries has sold you a lemon there!"

"You know nothing James Cook, less than nothing in fact…" Emily said indignantly, and they descended into a discussion of the pro's and con's of the weapons solution she had supplied. I shook my head as Emily began rattling off technical specifications, totally oblivious to the rest of the world; for someone that doesn't like guns, she knows one hell of a lot about them, but then I guess that goes with the job.

"Please tell me you can beat him," Effy said quietly, leaning across towards me so Cook wouldn't overhear. "I know I've said it before, but he really will be insufferable if he wins again, for some reason he sees it as being important you know? Like it actually means something!"

I shrugged in reply, reaching for my juice again. "I'll try, but he does have a big advantage you realise, I'm not kidding about the rustiness."

"Well his bravado should tell you something," she replied, showing once again that she was anything but a brainless bimbo. I raised an eyebrow in interest and she smirked at me. "Still no brighter I see; he's really worried Naomi, I think he knows you can beat him, and that's got him a little scared."

"I very much doubt I can beat him Eff," I said seriously. "Despite what Ems may say, I'm really very rusty; plus I think he wants it a little bit more than I do. Either way, I wouldn't put any bets on me."

"Unlike the Father-in-law then,"

"How d'you mean," I said wondering what she meant, but not whom; strangely for me I chose to ignore the sarcasm over my relationship with family Fitch.

"Don't you remember he bet on you to win, offered to match the prize money to a charity of your choice. Or was he joking that day at breakfast?"

"No," I said sombrely, "I don't think he was joking at all, though Jenna and Emily think he only made the bet because he doesn't think I can win; Jenna implied he a sexist bastard at heart, she reckons he doesn't think women can perform as well as men can."

"Well I'll vouch for the sexist part, I've always thought that about him. He used to eye me up something rotten you know, when James was first trying to get business with him. I do think he genuinely likes you though Naomi, certainly he respects you for what you do. Anyway, if it is true, don't you think that's a good enough motivation? Get out there and prove him wrong."

I tilted my head and shrugged in response, Effy shook her own head at me in disappointment.

"You really are terrible aren't you? Why don't you try having a little confidence in your abilities Naomi Campbell, really!"

"Glad you agree," Emily said, butting into our conversation; "you need to be more positive Naomi, then you can silence this clown!"

"Emily Fitch, I am not a clown," Cook drawled, "a jester maybe, but surely not a clown."

"You're an idiot James; but I like that about you," Effy said winking at me. "Now can we order breakfast and get started, I suspect these lovebirds have better things to do than listen to you brag."

The rest of breakfast was actually fun, James toned down his posturing, Effy eased up on her teasing and Emily stopped trying to get me to be something I'm not. With all that pressure gone, I could sit back and enjoy the meal, knowing it would probably be the last thing I ate until this evening. I've never really been the nervous type, certainly not with something like this competition; but this was different, this felt as strange as my first day at work, my first time at Fitch Manor.

I guess I spent so much time convalescing my brain has decided to betray me and make me nervous enough to know I wouldn't want to eat until it was over and done with.

I had the opportunity, as I ate, to listen to the conversations around me; the easy going banter between Effy and Cook, the pleasant exchanges they shared with Emily. It was all too easy for them it seemed, the social interactions like this; it was a far cry from the mealtimes I'd had in the Army which ranged from absolute silence of a team in mourning, to the raucous denouncement of the pervious evenings debauchery.

I felt like a stranger in their ranks once more, like I didn't really fit. It didn't even help that each and every one of them had welcomed me into their world; I still felt like someone would be showing me the door at some not to distant point, finally realising that I wasn't one of them, not part of the clique.

o+o+o

There was a shock waiting for us as I escorted Emily across the conference hall to the Fitch Industries stand, three figures were stood talking to one another as we walked up.

"Emily dear, there you are," Jenna Fitch called out, holding out her arms to her daughter for a warm hug. "and Naomi dear, so nice to see you too."

"Mrs Fitch," I said formally, keeping up my CPO role despite the stand being pretty much clear, "Mr Fitch, nice to see you both."

"Naomi," Rob said nodding his welcome.

"What are you guys doing here, I thought you weren't coming?" Emily said, stepping back and staring at them.

"Well, I couldn't miss the big showdown," Rob said, those whiter than white teeth on full display. "Besides, I wanted to see my favourite daughters."

'_Daughter'_ I thought to myself, still not convinced by his admission about Emily; seconds later he proved Emily's point by wrapping his huge arm around Katie's shoulders.

"Right well, I'd love to hang around and chat, but Katie here has arranged for me to meet with a rather important African General; looks like a promising partnership if we play our cards right, eh Katiekins?"

"Absolutely daddy, General Kazir is quite keen to do business with us; for a little accommodation or two if you know what I mean." Katie made a great play of winking 'conspiratorially' at Rob, who beamed proudly.

"Well I'll leave that up to you love, let's go land ourselves a fat one eh? See you later everyone, good luck for that competition Naomi."

I nodded as he walked away, one eye on Emily as she glared at Katie's back with hurt and tears in those expressive eyes, another deal she had worked hard for stolen from under her eyes. "Gently does it Ems," I said softly as I reached out to touch the back of her arm reassuringly, glancing worriedly at her mother. With a sad smile Jenna took a step closer to her daughter and linked arms with her.

"Ignore him Emily, you know he's totally blinkered when it comes to Katie, you also know he's an ignorant twat; and we both know she's a creeping little bitch when it comes to impressing him."

"Mum!" Emily said, blinking and turning to look at her smiling mother. "You can't say that!"

"I can when it comes to your father and your sister dear," Jenna said leading Emily across towards the little meeting room at the back of the stand. "After all, I'm saying nothing that isn't the truth."

She beckoned for me to follow as they went into the room, I shook my head and looked around me. People were starting to fill up the hall, staff making ready for the morning throngs; vendors opening and cleaning down their stands to make them their best and, everywhere I looked, people carrying gigantic cups of coffee. It was business as usual at Arms Expo 2010, and it was business as usual for Naomi Campbell; competition or not I had a job to do, and, stowing my kitbag in the back of the stand, I went about it like the professional I was. Love, jealousy, hate and tears had no part of what I needed to do this morning; and I left the mess Rob had made for Jenna to sort out. Perhaps it was cowardly, but I had faith that Emily would come to me if she needed me; for now, it was my job to keep her safe, and I would do that in the only way I knew how.

o+o+o

The morning dragged on inexorably as the great and the good of the military world strolled around the stands looking for that career making deal. Emily had appeared from the meeting room with a big smile on her face long before the hall officially opened, fifteen minutes spent talking with her mother perking her up no end after that unfortunate start to the working day. I even got a warm, if a little formal, thank you from her for organising her team to get set up in her absence; it wasn't exactly a difficult job though, they were well drilled in what to do, they just needed a little nudge from Sarn't Campbell to get them going. Once the hall doors opened though it was back to prowling the outside of the stand, standing unobtrusively at the back, or sneaking off for a break here and there.

This time though I didn't join the runners; not for any moralistic, Emily related, reason though, it was simply because my mind was too tied up on other things to be sociable.

I was relieved that Emily claimed to understand my fears, I'd be more relieved if I managed ever to explain them to her, or even better have them proven false; as false as Joanna had proved my memory of Paul's death to be. But even with that fear pushed to one side, I still had a competition to worry about.

I know nerves are a good thing, but they're still nerves; they're still uncomfortable.

"You'll be fine," Emily had said on one of her brief forays out of her room for a sit-down and a chat. "I have faith in you."

"Misplaced faith perhaps Miss Fitch," I replied as one of the stand monkeys came across to speak to her.

"Shush Naomi; we're all behind you, you know that don't you? Everyone here thinks you can win this afternoon. We all _want_ you to win."

I didn't care what _they_ wanted, but I did feel the pressure of Emily's expectations pressing on my shoulders. She'd arranged for the best kit she could buy for me, planned everything to give me the greatest chance of beating Cook, if not winning the whole fucking event itself; yet still I had my doubts.

I didn't know if I even _wanted_ to win this fucking thing, I mean..what would it give me? What difference would it make to my fucking life?

Except perhaps piss my boss off of course, he seems so anxious to win the damned thing, yet another concern to add to the pile. Emily wants me to win, Cook wants to win himself. Poor old Naomi Campbell, caught between the devil and the deep blue sea.

I glanced down at my watch as the 'monkey' leaned down to whisper in Emily's ear, only a couple of hours to go and we'd be out of here, heading off to the event location on the far side of the complex for the competition.

"Oh for heavens sake Dave, can't one of you guys deal with this? I was going to have a five minute break, I haven't stopped all morning."

"I'm afraid not Miss Fitch, Mr Erickson was most insistent to see you personally."

"Fucks sake, ok give me a second to grab a drink and I'll be right there."

The monkey nodded and vanished, as they left Emily let out a tired sigh. "Sorry babe," she said quietly, rubbing at her eyes; "I was hoping to finally have a break and try and have a coffee with you."

"Not in public Miss Fitch," I admonished her in my best 'plummy' English accent, knowing that no one was really near enough to overhear us. "Please, do remember where we are, and do try to maintain a sense of decorum."

"Quite so Miss Campbell, please accept my most sincere apologies." Emily replied faking her own accent, adding a slightly raised eyebrow and a smirk on her shiny, gloss covered lips for effect.

"Would you like me to get you a coffee while you go into your meeting Miss Fitch," I asked seriously dropping the accent. "I can pop over to the coffee stand and get you one, have it ready for when you get out."

"Would you mind Naomi? Oh that would be heavenly," she said getting to her feet and fluffing out her hair. "They always get the fucking client a drink, never think to bring me one when I go in though."

"You should train them better," I told her stepping away from my usual hidey hole. "Caramel Latte as usual?"

"Yes please, could you get them to shake some extra chocolate over the top, I feel the need for chocolate today."

"Yes Ma'am," I said slipping past her, "coming right up."

"Naomi?" Emily said as I walked away; I turned to see her beckoning me back. "A quiet word?"

I stepped up to her and bent down, placing my ear next to her cheek. "I've been watching you wandering around fretting babe, stop worrying about the competition; however you do I'll be proud of you," she whispered making my heart swell. "I love you," she added

I nodded and straightened, my heart deflating wrapped in an icy grip.

"I'll bear that in mind Miss Fitch," I said loudly, letting people think she'd just given me a warning or something. "If you'd like, I'll get that coffee for you now."

"Thank you Naomi, I'd appreciate that."

"You're welcome."

o+o+o

Three and a half hours later it was over, Thursday afternoon was upon us and for Emily the pressure of the Expo was all over bar the shouting, all that was left for her to do was shake a few more hands and take down the stand. For me, however, the pressure was building. I'd got changed, collected my weapons and set up in the staging area, the sound of gunfire already ringing out from the pistol range.

I was actually quite intimidated by what I'd found as I'd entered the fenced of competitors area; I'd expected this to be a small event, but there were about a hundred people here taking part. Not all of them were in the competition that I was entered in, the triple challenge, however; there were plenty of other events that people were here to show off in. Frankly, as someone that was ex-military, some of the events were just fucking weird.

Still, there was no time for me to consider the unimportance of a 'quick-draw' contest, or ponder the relevance of a trick-shooting competition whatever the hell that was; I had ten minutes to prepare for the first event, and it was one I was reasonably confident of doing well in. I used to be a pretty proficient pistol shooter back in the CPU, even managed to win a few merits for it during training. This was going to be different though; as good as the toys that Emily had got me in the UK were, they weren't the real thing, and I was hoping that I didn't embarrass myself with my lack of practice.

I read through the rules once more, though they were pretty much engraved into my mind. Each competitor had ten shots in the combat stance, ten shots kneeling and ten shots rapid fire and that was it. Thirty shots, best score takes the prize and a lead into the next round. In the event of a tie there was one more ten shot rapid fire round to decide the winner. It was simple and uncomplicated, something even my squaddies brain could understand; in fact it was just how I liked it.

We had faced one tiny problem with Emily's grand plan however, the Ruger subcompact pistol she had bought me had only come with the standard six shot magazine. It was Tuesday afternoon before we realised our error; the rules clearly stating that I needed be able to fire ten shots without reloading. To my relief though Emily came through for me again; a quick word with one of the 'stand monkeys' had seen him scurrying off into the exhibition halls and ten minutes later he returned with a handful of Promag Industries ten shot magazines rather than a new pistol I'd need to get used to.

"They could have got a fifteen shot one for you, but I didn't think the extra would help" Emily had said as she slipped the four magazines over to me.

"You're a very handy person to have around Miss Fitch," I said nodding my thanks to the 'monkey' as well. "Very handy indeed."

"You have no idea how _handy_ I can be Miss Campbell," Emily replied as the 'monkey' vanished, leaving us alone for the first time all day. "But I'll show you later if you're lucky."

"Behave Miss Fitch," I said grinning, knowing that we were safe for the moment at least

"Not a chance."

Carefully I stripped and checked the Ruger, removing the batteries from the laser sight, unfortunately banned from the competition. I had a smile on my face at the memory of how handy Emily had been on that Tuesday night, or I guess I should say 'handsy', that would be more accurate at least. Still grinning at the though of her touch, I shook my head and attempted to focus; those memories not really conducive to my concentration on the task at hand. Carefully I slipped those four special magazines into one of the pouches on my belt, securing them in place but making sure they were easy to access. That done, I dropped the pistol into my leg holster and fastened the Velcro retraining strap into place, testing that it was securely fastened before wiping my hands on a clean cloth to remove the grease and oil that had transferred to them. For the first time in days I felt a wonderful sense of calm overtake me, this was it; there was no more time for messing about, no more time for worry. It was me against, well, everyone else and for the first time since I arrived I felt ready; completely and utterly ready to perform.

"_Could we have competitors Naomi Campbell to lane number one, James Cook to lane three and Ben Deakin to lane five please?"_ the loudspeaker over the area sang out. _"That's competitors Campbell, Cook and Deakin to lanes one, three and five. Ladies and gentlemen the second round of the pistol shooting event is about to begin."_

Here we go…

I stepped into the small booth, placing my pistol on the surface in front of me. It was pretty much a standard outdoor range that had been set up for the event, the main difference being we were in the middle of fucking nowhere and there was a crowd of people around watching what was going on. Fuck knows who they were, as far as I could tell you'd have to be sad, or committed or both to want to watch a group of people shooting paper targets. Still there was a sizeable noise behind me as I tried to get ready, the fancy electronic ear defenders we'd been given doing their best to filter it out.

"On the sound of the first horn, you will load and holster your weapon, raising your arm to indicate that you are ready to continue, " the range officer shouted to the three of us. "On the sound of the second horn you will fire your ten shots in your own time. When you have fired all your shots place your weapon down on the table and step backwards, raising your arm to indicate your weapon is safe. When the third horn sounds the round is over. Does everyone understand?"

I signalled the range controller with a thumbs up, staring downrange at the series of coloured circles that constituted my target. The air horn signalled the start of the round and I stepped into the booth proper and slipped the oiled magazine into the receiver and slapped it home. With a smooth click I cocked the pistol and applied the safety before sliding it back into the cordura holster on my leg. I raised my right arm over my head to indicate my readiness, my left hand resting lightly on the grip. Within seconds the horn sang out once more and I closed my eyes to centre myself and went to draw the pistol.

It was a funny feeling that overcame me as I tried to slip the Ruger out of it's holster, I heard the loud sounds of shots ringing out from the booth along from me, Cook and the other guy already letting rip at their targets. I found that the signals from my brain weren't getting through though, it was like there was something in the way that was preventing me from joining in. As the shots rang out I could feel the old wound in my shoulder aching, as if new, as my left hand tried to work. My nostrils were suddenly filled with the stench of burning rubber and death, and I could see, as if it was real, Captain McClair's dead body lying on the range in front of me; a vivid memory of a terrible time. I froze as my mind went into total panic, the pistol only half drawn; my mind was filled with the sight of the insurgent , his clothes billowing in the breeze, his AK47 pointed right at me, and I lost myself in the fear I had experienced as I struggled to draw my pistol clear.

For a brief second I was once more in that tiny rocky hollow, by the side of a road, ten miles from Gereshk on a cold December day; a day when everyone died. I let go of the pistol, allowing it to slip back into the holster; I was ready to call it a day, the pressure had finally gotten to me. I'd not lifted a weapon in 'anger' since that fateful day; and now, with the added strain of having everyone watch my every move, it was all proving too much.

I was halfway through raising my right hand, indicating I was dropping out when I heard a single voice ring out above the cheering and jeering behind me. One single, unforgettable voice that cut through everything, including the sound of gunfire that reverberated around me…

"Come on Naomi, you can do it!"

…and with that one sentence everything around me stopped, the visions faded into the past and I was left with the sight of the range, and, in the distance, the thin paper target. I closed my eyes once more and took a deep breath, holding it for a second before releasing it through my mouth, forcing out the stale breath and clearing my lungs. The noise around me faded into nothing as I opened my eyes once more, staring downrange at the coloured circles. It felt like everything was moving in slow motion as I carefully drew the pistol and sighted it, thumbing off the safety as I did so. I brought the iron sights to bear on the centre of the ten ring, as I had done so barely seven months before on the centre mass of the insurgent that had nearly ended my life; and slowly, and carefully, I squeezed the trigger.

I didn't register the sound of the gunshot, I was suddenly so utterly focussed on what I had to do. I was saying a mantra as I repeated the actions I'd been taught to do so long ago, by a grizzly Corporal in an outdoor range half a world away. _'Acquire the target, line up the sights, squeeze the trigger,' _it had started; then, _'recover, re-acquire and fire again'_

"Recover, re-acquire, line up the sights, squeeze the trigger, I muttered to myself over and over again as I sent round after round after the first to perforate the paper target. Ten times I repeated this mantra, finding the repetition as calming as it had been when I first learnt it. Everything unfamiliar looks difficult to the layman, but really every task can be broken down into a manageable set of steps like these. As my penultimate round headed on its way I went through those steps one last time.

'_Recover' _I brought the pistol out of its recoil and began bringing it down to where it needed to be.

'_Re-acquire the target,' _I opened both of my eyes and spotted the sheet of paper still suspended from its frame in the distance.

_Line up the sights,'_ Carefully I brought the iron sights into a line with my eye and the ten ring, the dead centre of the target. I willed the pistol to become a part of my body, aiming it as though it were an extension of my hand; a single, stubby, black finger that dealt death and destruction.

'_Squeeze the trigger,'_ I gently eased back the sensitive trigger, trying not to jerk the pistol off its aim point as I fired it; allowing my body to relax so the bullet would leave the barrel on exactly the right trajectory.

As I recovered the pistol for the last time I noticed that the slide was locked open, the magazine clearly spent. Regretfully I placed the Ruger down onto the table, and stepped backwards raising my arm above me; almost immediately the horn rang out for the third time and the crowd cheered behind me.

"What kept you Blondie?" Cook called over from his bay, his ear defenders around his neck, a grin on his face. "I thought you weren't going to come and play for a second there."

"Can't rush things boss," I told him casually, ignoring the adrenaline fuelled heart rate. "I wanted to make sure things were just right before I fired, make sure I got the best score I could you know?"

I turned to the crowd and saw Emily near the front with her family, all of them applauding the competitors. Jenna waved at me as she looked at me and I waved back, feeling really good about myself. As my eyes met Emily's I watched as she mouthed _'well done' _at me; I smiled back at her and she took a quick sidelong glance at the rest of the Fitch's before mouthing _'that was so hot'_ as a follow up.

At least that's what I thought she mouthed at me, I wasn't totally sure; knowing Emily though I was probably right.

At a signal from the range controller we collected our weapons, holstered them again and then readied ourselves for the next stage. Once more we were given the drill from the controller and once more I loaded the Ruger. This time, however, there was no flashback, no bad memory to affect my performance. As the second horn rang out I cleanly drew the weapon and knelt, running through my mantra as I sent the bullets on their way, raining hot lead on the poor unfortunate paper. This time it felt good, it felt really, _really_ good; in fact I was on top of the fucking world, it was like Gereshk had never happened, banished by a loving word from a loving girl…

And for the first time since yesterday, I wasn't scared of how I felt about her; I wasn't scared at all.

o+o+o

The third round, that of rapid fire shooting, was over in a blur of cordite and noise. When the final round was fired, when the slide locked back for the last time I placed the Ruger down on the table and stepped away from the firing line with a palpable sense of regret; I really had been enjoying myself, doing something I loved; something simple and uncomplicated, something I could control.

The air horn blasted for the final time signalling the end of the first part of the competition for me. There would be other people to follow, but for now I could set myself up for the most challenging part of the competition, the marksmanship round.

"Nice work blondie," Cook said as we walked back to the staging area, our weapons safe. "Hope you had a good round there, because I don't mind telling you I was awesome."

"I did ok," I said casually, trying not to brag in the same way he seemed to find necessary.

"I'm sure she did better than awesome James," Emily said appearing at my side, her mother and Effy with her.

"Emily, Mrs Fitch," Cook said nodding his welcome after hugging his fiancée. "What brings you down here?"

"Robert and Katie are bored already James, they've gone off to the hospitality tent," Jenna said, a hint of displeasure in her voice. "Emily and I thought we'd come down to congratulate you both.

"That's a little premature Mrs Fitch," I replied as we walked back to our benches. "The scores won't be announced until all the competitors have finished shooting."

"Well that won't be long now," Emily said smiling warmly at me.

"Just enough time to get cleaned up and ready then," Cook said happily, my favourite round is coming up, and that li'l old rifle that Katie acquired for me is going to make my victory that little bit sweeter."

"James, behave," Effy chided linking her arm with his and leading him away, "you know this bragging of yours really is unbecoming you know."

"Just like _your_ reticence," Emily added nudging me with her shoulder. "Mum and I thought you'd frozen up out there, I was really worried."

"All good things come in time Emily, I just needed a few moments to clear my head that's all."

"Is your head clear now Naomi dear?" Jenna asked as we approached the secure area and showed our passes to get in.

"Yeah," I replied grinning stupidly, "thanks to my fan club here, my head is well and truly on straight."

"That's good, I'm afraid to say that my husband was most amused to see you pause like that," Jenna said frowning as I emptied my pouches and set the pistol down on my bench. "I think Robert hoped you were going to give up. I don't think he was the only one either; I didn't want to say anything with James around but I think he was a little annoyed that you managed to finish at all."

"Well I think he _really_ wants to win this, and Effy reckons he thinks I'm his competition." I said sniffing.

"He's probably right from what Emily tells me."

"Let's not count our chickens, we don't even know the scores yet Jenna," I replied, beginning the strip down the Ruger, removing its cleaning kit from the moulded carry case. "I might have done really badly in that round."

"I _very_ much doubt that Naomi dear, I've seen you shoot before remember? Without any practice you were extremely good, I'm sure you're a natural, and naturals always do well in everything they try." She smiled warmly at me before tapping Ems on the shoulder. "Anyway Emily, we should leave Naomi to get herself ready for the next round, and we really need to get over there to claim our seats."

"You go ahead mum, I'm going to stay here for a bit longer."

We chatted about nothing in particular after Jenna left, smiling indulgently at her daughter as she did so. I spent my time cleaning the Ruger, placing everything back in the case, exactly the way it was, preparing to return it. We were both stalling, waiting for the first set of scores, and we both knew it. The small talk and cleaning an obvious substitute for our shared nerves about the outcome; as the loudspeaker system crackled into life, I nearly dropped the barrel cleaning brush I was trying to use.

"_Ladies and gentlemen the results of the first round of the triple challenge have now been collated and here are the top three competitors. In third place, with scores of 90, 87 and 86 for each of the rounds giving a combined score of two hundred and sixty three points; Anton Du'Marche."_

There was a ripple of applause around the benches as the score was announced, the crowd then falling quiet as the announcer spoke again.

"_In second place with scores of 90, 92 and 90 for each of the rounds giving a combined score of two hundred and seventy two points; James Cook of Close Protection."_

I applauded as James waved to the crowd; I was feeling a little deflated, I wasn't in the slightest bit confident, but it would have been nice to have got close to Cook. I caught his eye as he winked across at me and gave me a thumbs up. I smiled ruefully and returned the signal, trying not to let my disappointment show.

"…_and in first place with scores of 90, 94 and 89 giving a combined score of two hundred and seventy __**three**__ points; Naomi Campbell, also of Close Protection. Well done to Miss Campbell for beating our current champion by the narrowest of margins. The next round will begin in ten minutes time at the main range, all competitors please be ready for your next call. Thank you."_

I watched as James raised his index finger to me, indicating the single point that separated our scores. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as the adrenaline pumped around my body once more, my head overwhelmed with feelings. As the realisation of what had just happened finally sank in, I heard a loud 'whoop' from behind me and arms wrapped around my waist. As Emily pressed herself into my back, I heard her voice, thick with emotions.

"I _knew_ you could do it Nomi," she said quietly, barely audible over the sound of applause and cheering. "I fucking _knew_ you could do it."

"Yeah, you did didn't you, thanks for believing in me Emily," I said turning to face her. "You believed even when I didn't."

"Yeah well, you keep me safe, that's your job; I believe in you, that's mine." With that little announcement Emily stepped away from me joining in the applause. "Congratulations Naomi, well done."

"Yeah, congratulations blondie," Cook said, coming over and wrapping an arm around Emily's shoulders, his face trying desperately to hide his obvious disappointment. "Pretty close though, only a point in it. There's a long way to go yet."

His voice was light and nonchalant, but I wasn't fooled. Years of working as an Military Police investigator taught me how to read people; and James Cook wasn't happy he lost to me.

"Oh James," Emily said oblivious of the subtext in Cooks words, elbowing him in the side playfully. "Naomi beat you fair and square, you could at least let her enjoy the moment you git."

"This _is_ letting her enjoy the moment Emily," James said squeezing her shoulders tightly filling me with an irrational pang of annoyance. "But I don't want her to get _too_ cocky, I am still determined to beat her."

"You better get moving then boss," I told him, hearing his name being called over the speakers. "Sounds like you're up."

"I do believe you're right; catch you later ladies," Cook drawled, dropping his grip on Emily and heading back to his bench. "Good luck Naomi," he called out as he shouldered his fancy looking sniper rifle and turned away; "I do believe you're going to need it."

"He's such an arrogant twat all of a sudden," Emily said shaking her head at Cook's back as he jauntily walked out towards the rifle range. "What?" she said as she caught me grinning at her.

"Nothing, nothing at all," I replied, amused at her comments. "Sounds like I'm up too."

"Yeah," Emily looked disappointed as I picked up the large case that contained the 'Intervention' it's computer, gadgets and ammunition. "Good luck Nomi, I know you'll do well."

"Walk with me?" I asked, to her surprise _and_ mine, as she turned to leave me alone.

"Of course," she said with a pleased smile, "as long as you don't expect me to carry anything that is," she finished with a fake scowl and a cheeky wink.

I shook my head and we walked out towards the firing station I had been called to, the sun beating down on the pair of us as we talked. I had a wonderful feeling running through me as Emily took me through using the technology of the rifle once more. I could barely take in the words as I was filled with warmth at the passion and intensity with which she was talking, she really was a wonderful woman; and I was so intensely proud that she would want to just be with me, that she would care about me so much she would want me to do well.

"Naomi…_Naomi!_"

"Yes?" I asked turning around to see Emily standing by a white marker, the number twelve painted on it in black.

"This is your spot babe," she said grinning back at me. "I think I'll leave you to it, as your mind is obviously elsewhere right now and you need to focus on something other than that!"

I smiled back, a little embarrassed, only to watch her break out into laughter at my face.

"Oh fuck off," I said as the blush crept up my cheeks. I placed the case onto the floor and unclipped it in an attempt to hide my flushed cheeks.

"Like I say, I'll leave you to it babe, good luck Naomi. I _don't _think you'll need it though. Give 'em hell lil'darlin." She finished in a terrible impersonation of Cook, "I love you."

"I will," I said as she turned away, heading down the narrow path towards the stands that ran alongside the range. "Thanks."

As she walked away I felt the sudden urge to reply, the sudden urge to add something important before she walked out of range.

"Ems," I called out quickly, watching as she paused and turned back to me. The words stuck in my throat for a second until a familiar smile broke down the dam walls and freed my trapped vocal chords. "I, er…well..I…I love you too."

The depth of her smile increased seemingly exponentially at my words, and my chest was fit to busting at the obvious pleasure that those three, infinitely difficult to say, words had given her. Emily bounced on her toes and bit her bottom lip, staring at me with eyes filled with pride and love. With a sudden intake of breath she turned and began walking away again, a definite spring in her step. Just before she disappeared behind a small hillock at the back of the range, I laughed as she threw two words back at me; two words I'd used as an avoidance, but she used as an affirmation, an affirmation of the new status of our relationship.

"I know."

.

.

.

**Authors Note **– No names here, just a polite request, call it payment for the chapter perhaps? No, I'm kidding, but I would like your help if you're game.

There's a certain someone in the UK who, despite never meeting and only knowing via long and often very silly PM's here on FFN, I'd like to count amongst my friends. She's not very well at the moment, not well at all; and if you would I'd appreciate you taking the time to pray to whatever you believe in for her speedy recovery. If you don't believe in anything, some positive thoughts sent in the direction of the UK would be appreciated.

One thing I do believe in is the collective power of mother nature's creations, even if it is in the shape of positive thoughts, best wishes and excellent medical care.

S I'm thinking of you, and I hope more people do the same thing, we will do our best to fix you, you do the same!

Es


	45. Winners and Losers

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness, a heavy case of writers block and a ex I could happily put in the Basement with Naomi right now!

I still nothing to do with Skins, (but then do we care about Skins any more? Well until that Gen 2 Movie appears anyway).

**Authors Note: **Ok, I'm not going to labour this, I know I'm a week behind; last week I thought it would be, inappropriate I guess, to post a chapter of CP with the awful events in Norway. I hope you understand that.

I have no words, none at all, only sorrow.

Anyway, on with chapter 45.

**Chapter 45 – Winners and Losers**

"_Jesus Campbell, are you a complete fucking loser or what? Look, let's make this nice and easy for you, something even your pretty little girlie brain can understand. Line up the crosshairs on the centre, squeeze the trigger and SHOOT THE FUCKING TARGET THIS TIME!"_

"_Yes Corporal,"_

"_Problem with you Campbell, is that you have no finesse, you do everything like you're a bull in a fucking china shop. You just rush ahead and do your own thing every time we ask you to do anything that requires thought and finesse. Just fucking slow down, control your breathing and fucking concentrate Campbell, can you do that?"_

"_Yes Corporal."_

The memory of my very first distance rifle shooting lesson came flooding back as I set up the sniping rifle on the firing line, little more than a thin strip of white chalk painted onto the grass. I clicked open the bipod, making sure it was locked in place before placing the rifle onto the ground and checking the sights were locked in place. I wasn't going to make the same mistakes that the young Naomi Campbell had made, when trying to learn the discipline of accurate distance shooting. Corporal Harper had been right all along, I _was_ a loser, I _was_ like a bull in a china shop; I _didn't_ have any patience at all. I had fucked up my marksmanship course by being impulsive, impetuous and pig headed.

Funny, but it was like my love life, everything was impulsive, like Diane the QARANC nurse I had met in Germany and dated briefly in the UK; like Amy and everything that happened with her. I had no patience…no patience at all, until Emily that was; hopefully that level of restraint would serve me well, if I could transfer it to the range that was.

I laid out the massive magazines onto the cloth of my jacket and set up the sighting binoculars with the integrated rangefinder, a wonderful gadget that made everything so much easier for a numpty like me. There had been an amusing incident when we had checked in my equipment, the officials insisting, once again, that the extra technology that I had was outside the rules of the competition. Emily pointed out, with a hard smile, that the rules said that any shooter could have a spotter to assist them with targeting if they wanted to use one; and that the equipment that I was able to use to make up for the lack of an experienced crewmate was not specifically excluded. After a few minutes of grumbling and checking the feisty red-head won her argument, though I suspected that the rules would be changed for next year.

Whatever happened in the future was a problem for another day, for now my gear was legal and permitted and I flipped the switch on the binoculars; sighting up on the target and reading off the data it provided. Carefully I began feeding in the tactical data the software on my PDA needed to work out the how to set up my telescopic sight for the perfect shot, this was almost too easy.

If I was totally honest, it really did feel a little like I was cheating, but then as Emily had reminded me, James Cook and most of the rest of the field had years of training and hours of practice over me; and the skill of both a spotter and the shooter to make that perfect shot, I needed every advantage I could get to level the playing field.

Like the pistol shoot I had ten rounds to fire, but this time it was ten alone. Two sighting rounds to check everything out, and then ten chances to send a bullet fifteen hundred yards downrange to try and hit a target the size of a dinner plate as close to the centre as I could. As I slowly punched in the data my gadgets were giving me, the computer started to take account of the variables that would affect the accuracy of the bullet. It was crunching my geographical location, the distance to the target, the temperature and humidity, the estimated wind speed and even the coriolis effect, that spinning of the earth that would alter the trajectory by a few tenths of a degree; a few tenths of a degree that could end up as the difference between ten points and none over the near kilometre and a half we were shooting at.

What I got out of the computer was the ability to 'cold barrel shoot' an accurate round onto a distant target; and that's what I needed; the chance to hit the 'ten ring' first time, and then every time after that. It cleverly did the job of the snipers spotter, though frankly it wasn't as easy to work with, I've never been that patient with technology and punching in numbers and waiting isn't as easy as shouting at your mate. Still, it was a hell of a lot better than guessing; which is what I would have been doing without Emily's help.

As I waited to get the go ahead to shoot I hunkered down on the grass and made myself comfortable. There wasn't a time limit to the shooting, well, not really. You could take the time you needed between shots, and I knew that being comfortable and in the right position would be crucial to getting a half decent score.

I slipped the butt of the rifle into my left shoulder, adjusting my position until my cheek rested on the pad, my eye peering down the sights. A couple of seconds of shuffling around and I was ready, everything felt right. With my right hand I adjusted the focus on the scope, adjusting the magnification until I had a clear sight of the tiny target, looming large as the telescopic zoom did it's job.

Repeating my shooting mantra in my head, I opened both my eyes, looking down the sights at the target. Out of the corner of my eye I glanced down at the computer, trying to interpret the data exactly as Emily had explained to me on those hours of practice at Cooks club. I saw a white flag wave at the end of the range and I slipped one of the seven shot magazines into the receiver and loaded the gleaming .408 cartridge into the breech. I stared down the sights and waited, after a few seconds the flag stopped waving and ducked down behind the huge earth bank that had been erected to protect the target teams. Taking one last glance at the computer, I adjusted my aim; adding a couple of mil to the windage and one to the elevation as the software dictated.

Knowing I was now free to shoot my ranging shots, I adjusted my position just one more time and began the process of controlling my breathing. I thought about Joanna and how she had created my happy place, that dark and dusty summerhouse at the bottom of a garden; a cool building with a hot girl. I immersed myself in the calm of that special place and allowed my breathing to ease. When I was ready, totally and utterly ready I extended my finger, wrapped it around the trigger and squeezed.

With a muffled thump I set the bullet on its way, reaching supersonic speeds in the blink of an eye. As I ran through my target shooting mantra one more time I looked through the sights for signs of success. For a cold barrel round it was pretty good, especially for me. I'd managed to hit the target, and not far away from the centre either. I adjusted my aim slightly and squeezed the trigger for the second time, a hole appearing in the target even closer to the pinwheel.

I clicked on the safely and waited, the target vanishing from sight and a red flag appearing in its place. I checked the computer and made a couple more adjustments to the sights, readying myself for the bit that mattered, the ten rounds that I hoped I could do Cheytac and Emily proud with; if I got anywhere close to their advertised grouping I'd be a very happy camper indeed.

Through the sights I saw the target reappear , fresh and unblemished, and the red flag vanish; a waved white flag appearing briefly, indicating the range was once again open.

"_Nice and easy Campbell, remember how we do things, pick your moment, pick your time and pick your shot, shoot when your ready; ok? Let's try and be a winner this time right?"_

"_Yes Corporal, shoot when I'm ready, try to be a winner, understood."_

"_Good, in your own time Campbell, don't let me down; take it easy, when it feels right make your move."_

With one last deep breath I peered down the sights once more, I allowed my breathing to slow; in, out…in, out…

Finally, like it had when I told Emily that I loved her in the pool, like it had when I told her that I loved her only minutes before, the moment felt right. With a simple pause in my breathing I settled the sights on the centre of the target and lovingly squeezed the trigger.

I had suddenly, for the first time in my life, become a winner in love; perhaps I could become a winner here too.

o+o+o

"Well that was shit," I overheard one of the other British competitors say as I walked back into the staging area, his accent different enough to stand out from the crowd. Fucking gust of wind on shot five, took it totally off target and only scored a three.

"Yeah, conditions were a bit blustery, out there" his spotting partner was saying nodding in agreement. "Ruined our score too, wish we'd had a fucking computer to tell us how to shoot as well." They watched me carefully as I walked past them, the long hard case containing the magic kit tucked under my arm.

"Absolutely, I wish I had a major fucking company giving me the best fucking kit money can buy," the shorter of the two said as I walked away, spitting on the floor as I passed. "Some of us had to beg, borrow or steal our equipment."

I smiled to myself and ignored them, heading back to my table with my expression set. I didn't care what they thought, though they were undoubtedly right; having Close Protection and Fitch Industries behind me had certainly given me an advantage, but then if it wasn't for Close Protection and Fitch Industries I would have had no interest in taking part of this fucking competition anyway.

"Cheating fucking bitch."

That, however was one step too far.

"Are you by any chance referring to me?" I asked loudly, setting my rifle case down on my bench with a thump and turning to face them. All eyes were upon us as I stared down the protagonist, a stumpy little fucker with a pronounced beer belly.

"What if we were?" he said sneering at me, looking at the crowd for support.

"Wow, you're really cocky with your mates around," I said nodding towards the taller guy he was stood with. "Want to take this discussion outside? I'm sure we can settle it out there."

"I wouldn't my friend," a familiar voice drawled lazily across the open ground as the fat guy balked at me. "The very last person that tried to take on my girl there ended up with fractured ribs and a broken jaw; she's feisty she is, trust me on that, she'd beat you to a pulp without breaking sweat."

"Stay out of this Cook, this is between me and your cheating skivvy there."

I covered the ground in a heartbeat, three swift steps bringing me right into the fat guys face. I watched him flinch as I came at him, his bravado failing, the taller of the two men stepping rapidly backwards out of reach.

"Firstly, I am not a cheat," I said jabbing him forcefully in his chest, knocking him backwards on his heels. "In case you're too fucking dumb to realise it, let me explain it to you in simple fucking terms. Cheating is where you break the rules in order to gain an advantage. I did not break any rules, therefore I. Am. Not. A. Fucking. Cheat."

I punctuated my point with hard prods to his chest, enjoying the feeling of power it gave me as the wannabe-bully flailed.

"Secondly, you're right, I _am_ a bitch; I'm a _nasty_ fucking bitch, in fact I'm a nasty fucking bitch that doesn't take kindly to abuse from jealous, overweight, talentless little dicksplashes like you. A gust of wind ruined your shot…blustery fucking conditions? What fucking wind? The conditions were fucking perfect out there, even _I_ could hit the fucking target. You're nothing more than fucking _pathetic_, you've got your excuses all lined up already haven't you? At least I have the courage to admit I can't shoot long distances and I needed all the help I could get." I stared at the short guys colleague meaningfully, "Especially as I didn't have my own spotter to tell me what to do"

"Did well enough on your own to come second though blondie," Cook said suddenly from the wall he was leaning against casually watching the exchange. "Beaten only by yours truly, naturally."

I had one of those 'what the fuck' moments, my relentless glaring at my abuser stopping as I blinked in shock and disbelief.

"Who did," I said, my eyes flicking over to Cook, a smug grin plastered on his face.

"You did, of course," he said walking over and wrapping his arm around my shoulders , second only to one James Alouicious Cook; a long way second I have to say, but second none the less."

He stared at my chubby antagonist in distain, his sheer size intimidating enough in itself. "Why don't you just run along and make your complaint official fatso, if you feel that strongly about it," Cook sneered. "If not, why don't you fuck off out of my sight and let me celebrate my victory with my fellow winner here."

"I kind of knew you would win that round boss, "I told him as he led me back to my table, the fight avoided neatly. "Pretty much your speciality really."

"Well yes," he said grinning, "it is as it happens. Now, can I finally take a look at that contraption Emily got for you? Anything that can assist a bum shot like you score seven points less than me has got to be a miracle in a box."

He spent the next ten minutes or so cooing over the 'Intervention', pointing out this and that to me passionately; things that were obviously important to a ex-sniper, things I didn't give a flying fuck about. After promising to let him have a play with all of the gadgetry at his club the next day, I managed to get him to let me put the rifle back into its case, and let me start preparing for the last event; the combat round.

o+o+o

"Great score Naomi," Emily said as I finished the loading and preparation of my HK, her vendors pass getting her past the security that made sure the public didn't just wander into the safe area. "You kicked arse out there again!"

"I kicked _arse_ did I?" I asked sniggering at how silly she sounded saying that.

"Yes, you totally did," Ems replied, shoving me playfully. "Cook's got a six point lead over you now, but you'll get that back in the next round I know it."

I looked over at Cook, lording it over the other guys as he'd been doing for the last half hour; playing up the Alpha Male role for all it was worth. I think his ego had taken a bit of a knock after losing the pistol round to me, but he seemed much happier now he was out in front, the defence of his title back on track.

"What's up?" Emily asked as I stared over at the little boys club in the corner. "What's the matter, you know you can win this."

"I know I can now Ems, I'm just not sure if I want to. It's not been an issue before, I never thought I stood a chance; now though, well look at him…he _is_ my sodding boss after all."

Ems looked over at Cook, regaling his near perfect shoot to anyone that would listen, hands weaving through the air as he lovingly described the trajectory of every shot. Her head whipped around to me, her perfectly painted lips open in shock.

"You're not seriously considering…" she started, understanding my thought pattern instantly.

"No, not really Ems," I interrupted quickly, hoping she would believe the half truth.

"You can't Naomi, not after all your hard work; you just can't!"

"I'm not going to Emily, it's just…"

She looked at me with disappointment and sympathy in her eyes. I smiled at her and winked; "don't sweat it Ems, just having a moment you know?"

"Well don't baby," she said, ignoring the fact that someone might overhear us, staring into my eyes. "Do this for yourself ok? Do it to prove how fucking good you are, to James, to Dad, to all of these fuckers."

"Yeah…yeah, you're right hun," I replied hoping to draw a line under things before they got out of hand. "We've both invested too much into this for me not to give it my best shot."

"That's the spirit, get out there and kick arse," she said putting her hand on my arm and squeezing gently. "Look, I need to be somewhere, but I'll come and see you before you go out?"

"You're going?" I asked a little surprised and disappointed, knowing that I was unlikely to be allowed into the boys club in the corner.

"Yeah, I've kind of got to," she said pouting. "Dad and Katie have promised that we'll meet a couple of prospective clients for drinks, we're planning to watch the combat event from one of the tents, they've put up some screens so we can see all the action."

"Oh," I said slightly deflated, "I thought you might have, you know…"

"Don't be silly Naomi of course I'll be there, I said I'll come down and watch you. I've already told everyone I was coming down to the front to cheer you on. A girl has to be seen supporting her big brave CPO you know?"

"Glad to hear that's the main reason for wanting to support me."

"Oh shush you know it's not; look I really do need to go. I'll be over as soon as I hear your name called ok?" I nodded and smiled. "Good," she said squeezing my arm once more, "now no more silly thoughts ok? You deserve to win this as much as James Cook, you're fucking awesome you know?"

"Yeah, thanks Ems," I said, spotting Cook looking over at the two of us. "I'll see you later yeah?"

"Course you will, wouldn't miss it for the world. Look, I wont be long ok? I lo…" she started to say the word and I cut her off quickly with a warning look. I'd come a long way, but there was a time and a place for statements that and this wasn't one of them. Not when we were surrounded by testosterone fuelled cretins on an adrenaline trip who would just love the _idea_ of two girls together, let alone see it in front of their eyes.

"I'll see you later Miss Fitch," I said as she got the hint and turned away. Eyes from the clique followed her as she weaved through the compound heading for the exit; eyes attached to chests that puffed out as she passed in order to look more impressive, chests that were attached to arms that nudged at their friends suggestively as Emily walked away. I caught Cook's amused look as his little gang leered away; right then all I wanted to do was flip off the safety on the HK and start firing, such was my anger at seeing them lust after my girl. I turned my back on Cook and the rest of the wankers and busied myself with my kit, trying to calm down; unpacking and loading the pistol and the spare magazines I had purchased for the HK, just in case Cook's wishes came true and the C-Mag jammed.

There was so much to do to get ready, and it seemed like there was no time left to do it.

o+o+o

Ten minutes after Emily went on her way, our names were drawn from a hat to determine the order for the combat run, personally I had no idea why we couldn't just go alphabetically, or in top to bottom order or something; but no, that wasn't sensible enough for our hosts. For some strange reason they wanted to add a bit of drama to the exercise, and so we all had to be paraded in front of the crowd; stepping up to the long table with the hideously tacky trophies on it and drawing a numbered ball from a drum.

As the leading competitor, Cook had the privilege of drawing first, with me drawing second. I drew the number nine, Cook had drawn number twelve; quite literally now the ball was in his court. Cook had a real advantage now, he would know exactly what he had to do to beat my score, and all he had to do was enough to keep his points lead. If I wanted to win I'd have to push as hard as I could and risk making a mistake; he could play it safe, it was that simple.

As was the choice that I was facing, put the hammer down, try to win and risk pissing off my boss; or take it easy, play it safe, lose and risk pissing off my girlfriend after all her efforts for me. A girlfriend that simply wanted me to do the best I could and bugger the result, a girlfriend that had told me she'd be proud of me whatever happened.

It was the rock and a hard place, I was definitely stuck between that same old rock and that very hard place. Either way this went down, there was a chance that someone was going to be mad at me. Happily for me the situation was solved fifteen minutes later as competitor number three was called to the arena.

"Hey blondie," Cook said as he walked over to my table, "buy you a coffee?"

"The coffee's free to us boss," I replied nodding over at the catering truck that was parked at the far end of our area; still a bit annoyed at his little gangs actions earlier.

"Jesus, I don't mean that swill, I mean buy you a proper coffee. Come on, grab your pass and follow me."

I dropped my HK and it's fancy magazine into the storage case Emily had given it to me in, and locked it closed. I'd spent a long time feeding those rounds into the twin drums and I wasn't going to risk someone fucking with it to give them an advantage; explaining my actions at Cook's raised eyebrow and impatiently tapping boot.

"You're fucking kidding me right?" I said staring at me in disbelief, as if it was impossible to consider that anyone here would fuck with my kit; I mean ten thousand dollars is nothing these days isn't it?

"Hey," I replied defensively as we left the compound and walked over to the spectators areas, our 'working clothes' drawing a few funny looks as we passed people in smart suits and expensive looking dresses. "Like you keep telling me it's a sensitive piece of kit and prone to jamming; Emily had it worked on by one of the factory gunsmiths to make it work better and I don't want it fucking up on me and giving you the win."

"About that," Cook said pausing as his eyes were drawn to a tall brunette in a short dress.

"Eyes front boss, or I'll tell Effy," I joked watching the girl as she passed. "I'm sure she'd love to know you're already looking at other women now you've found out she's pregnant."

"Effy would laugh in your face Naomikins, me and her are as straight as a die," Cook laughed, "she knows I might look but not touch; unlike your Emily. Besides, in my eyes Effy has never been sexier."

"My Emily is fine with me looking now Cook," I said snippily in response. "As long as I don't touch, or think about touching that is. We understand each other now."

"And would you?" he asked seriously, after placing our order with the barista behind the huge gleaming machine. "Touch or think about touching that is?"

"No, not really." I answered with a shake of my head.

"Gee, that's nice Naomikins, it must be love,"

I raised an eyebrow at his sarcasm and decided to shock the cheeky grin off his face. "Yes boss, it pretty much feels like it is; not that I'm an expert on the subject."

To my intense pleasure, my words had exactly the effect I was hoping for; Cook's mouth falling open as I spoke.

"Yeah, came as a surprise to me as well," I told him with a smile, "sort of came out of the blue you know?"

"Well fuck me sideways with a telegraph pole blondie," Cook said cuffing me with his shoulder. "This sounds like a serious cause for celebration; me Effy and our good news, you and Emily and yours. I'm telling you this Naomi, I think we need to make this Friday night one to remember!"

I groaned internally at the thought, the last thing I wanted to be was the centre of attention, it really wasn't something I was comfortable with. It had been embarrassing enough to be 'lauded' by Rob at his posh do that time; and that had been for something I did, not something I was. Fortunately he was distracted form further discussion by the arrival of our drinks and for a moment all was good in the world.

Cook handed me the steaming cappuccino and I added some much needed sugar and gently stirred it; listening carefully as the speaker system announced the time and score for competitor number five. It was taking a goodly amount of time between rounds, and the afternoon was already drawing late, they were going to have to speed things up or we'd be competing in the dark. Still the delays did mean that I had enough time to enjoy my drink before having to worry about going out again.

Cook and I sat down at one of the tables, far from the madding crowds that were drinking beer, and champagne and generally making an unholy noise in the spectators area, I felt conspicuously underdressed in fact I felt like some kind of a freaky Sarah Connor as I sat there, the gear I'd bought being more practical than smart. I'd opted for a similar set up to the gear I'd worn at Fitch Manor, boots, black combats and a webbing vest with my gear pouches. My concession to the American summer was I'd replaced the jumper with a matching black vest top and a soft 'crap hat' and glasses to keep the sun out of my eyes. Emily had looked at me, practically drooling, when she'd seen me; I have no idea why; really, there's nothing in the least bit sexy about boots and combats, no matter what she kept telling me.

"We need a chat Naomi," Cook finally said, taking a long sip from his drink. "It's important."

"What about boss?" I said tentatively, "Emily?"

"No, about you and this competition."

"What about it?"

"A little birdie tells me you just might be considering letting me win this thing," he said frowning at me.

"Emily told you that?" I accused, hurt that she'd grass me up like that.

"No," Cook said simply, "Emily's told me nothing, Effy on the other hand told me a lot."

"When did she talk to Emily, we've only just had the conversation; I told her I wasn't considering it."

"Naomi, stop thinking about Emily for one fucking second ok? Emily hasn't said fuck all to anyone as far as I know, Effy told me last night."

"Told you what," I replied, feeling happier now that I knew Emily hadn't betrayed my confidence; and a little guilty that I'd been so quick to accuse her. Something else to work on I suppose, trust and confidence; I should really have known better.

"We were talking about you and Emily, and Effy told me that she thinks you're the sort of person that would sacrifice herself for others, that you're the sort of person would put themselves in the line of fire for a complete stranger, let alone someone they cared about. She _also_ thinks that you're exactly the sort of person that would throw a competition to let their boss win."

He stared at me, his eyes boring into mine reminding me of his fiancée, of Emily, of Joanna even.

"I told her that she was talking out of her ass, that you'd never do something like that; looks like I was wrong doesn't it?"

"I wasn't completely serious boss," I defended myself quickly, "But I never thought I had a chance at first, now that I do…well…"

"Well what?" he pressed, "What's the matter, don't you want to win? There's a lot of money riding on this Naomikins, a ten thousand dollar cash prize you know?"

"Yeah, I know there is, but you want it more than I do Cook; the win that is, not the money. I just don't really care about winning this stupid competition and you do; it's as simple as that."

I took a slurp from my bitter tasting coffee, wishing it was as nice as the ones I'd shared with Emily, and stared at the table. We didn't say anything for a while, sitting in silence until;

"Look Naomi, I want you to understand something ok?" Cook said, and I looked up at him apprehensively. "I want to win, of course I do, I'm a competitive kind of guy, I can't help who I am. What I really want though, is to win honest. I don't want my closest rival to throw a competition because I'm a 'mouthy arrogant twat that happens to be their boss'; Effy's words by the way."

"But…"

"But nothing Naomikins, I want your best out there and nothing else. If I lose to you I want to know it's because you had more skill or a better day or something like that, ok? It would be more painful to know that I won because you let me, than it would be to lose outright."

"But.." I said again before being interrupted once more.

"No buts Naomikins," he interrupted me back, his face serious. "I want your word Naomi Campbell, your word as a soldier, that you'll go out there and try to win."

I stared across the table at my boss, he looked so boyishly sincere in his request; his eyes almost pleading with me to give him my word. The thing was, I understood exactly how he felt; I would have hated for someone to have let me win anything. I fought for everything I won my entire life; and if I lost, I lost because I wasn't good enough.

"My word?"

"Your word Naomi, your word that you'll do this right, that you won't fuck up the game babe."

"I've told you not to call me that Cook," I replied instinctively.

"Don't try to change the subject blondie; your word please. Let's do this with honour yes?"

He held out his hand waiting for me to shake it. It hung between us like a bad smell until finally I reached out and grabbed it.

"Your word?"

"Yeah, I swear on my mothers grave," I said shaking his hand properly, "you'll get my best out there, I'll play the game, I promise." I meant it as well. I gave him an oath on the only thing, apart from Emily's life, that meant a damn to me; and there was no fucking way I would swear on that; that's far too close to home.

"Good enough for me, more than good enough my friend," Cook said twisting his grip and grasping my hand. "May the best man win?"

"Or woman," I said squeezing his hand as tightly as he was squeezing mine.

"Or woman," he agreed winking at me. "Tell you what, you fancy a little wager on the outcome? Just between you and me?"

"I don't gamble boss," I replied seriously. "Besides, someone keeps promising me a pay rise so until then I don't want to lose any more money than I have to."

"I wasn't thinking money kiddo, I was thinking dinner. I win, you're buying dinner on Friday night; you win, dinner is on me. How about it?"

"You're on" I said spitting in my palm and holding out my hand. Cook repeated the age old gesture and shook it, sealing the wager.

"Done; Effy knows a fabulous restaurant for us all to go to, it is rather expensive though."

"That doesn't matter boss, "I replied smirking at him and wiping my hand on my trouser leg. "You know if I have to pay I'll be putting it on my company credit card anyway; and I'm sure JJ will sign it off as entertainment expenses when he sees two clients and my boss on the form. If not I'll have a chat with Lara, I'm sure she'll _persuade_ him to sign it for me."

Cook's laughter at my statement drew some unwelcome attention from some of the snooty looking fuckers that were walking by, looking down at us as if we didn't belong in 'their' area. Cook blithely ignored the stares and the mutterings and finished his drink, still sniggering to himself.

"Right, I think we'd better be getting back blondie;" he said finally, dropping his oversized cup onto its saucer and standing up. "It can't be long until you're up. Sooner you get going, the sooner I can beat your limey ass and show you who's the boss."

"Yes James," I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm, "whatever you say."

o+o+o

Cook and I headed back to our tables just as competitor number eight was called, to my amusement it was the chubby little fuck that I'd nearly come to blows with earlier and I mouthed a quick prayer to the Gods for him to fall and humiliate himself in front of everyone. Not one more word about the possible outcomes of the competition was said between Cook and I; Cook, true to his word, seeming happy with my promise.

It didn't take me long to get myself sorted out, the preparation work already done. I spent a minute or so stuffing my spare magazines into my chest pouches, arranging them carefully so that they didn't rattle and distract me; but stacking them carefully, making sure they were easy to remove with the loop of string I'd attached. I hoped I wouldn't need them, hoped that I'd have more than enough rounds in the C-Mag to do the job. It as a risk, but if it performed as well as it had in training then it would be more than worth it, the time I would save not reloading giving me a real advantage.

Still one thing the Army had taught me, never take anything for granted, always be prepared for something to go wrong, _especially_ when your weapon was made by for a Government contract. Being prepared cost you nothing and gave you everything; out in the field, no one ever dies from things going right, they die from not having the right preparation for when things go wrong.

Finally ready I slotted my back-up pistol into its holster, hefted the HK onto my shoulder and headed down towards the start gate just as my name was called. I could still hear the gunfire of my predecessor followed by a round of applause from the spectators that signified the end of the round. As I walked up to the start slot, getting ready to prepare myself for the run to come, I saw a familiar face waiting for me.

"Hey you, you ok?" Emily said leaning over one of the metal rails that separated the competitors from the spectators.

"Fine," I replied grinning, "a bit nervous though."

"Why? You've got nothing to worry about, unless you're going to be a twat and let Cook win."

"I don't know," I said shaking my head, "and no; Cook had a word with me about that. Apparently Effy is all fucking knowing and I got a warning; he made me promise to do my best to win."

"Good," Ems said authoritatively, "I really want you to win this."

"I thought you said it didn't matter how I did?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Shush, it doesn't; but that doesn't mean I don't want you to win as well. You're doing fantastically Naomi, you're right on James' tail you know? That was an incredible last round, you shot beautifully."

"Your _rifle_ shot beautifully Ems," I told her. "I would have had my head handed to me on a plate without all that gadgetry."

"Well, I imagine it might have helped, but then lots of the others had help too didn't they? _You_ were the one that managed to make the shots count, and six points difference is nothing."

"You say that Ems, I'm still behind though; and this is going to be a tough round. Cook's definitely got the advantage."

"Yeah, well I know you can do it, just do it like you did back at home, and I know you'll be great!"

I shrugged my shoulders in reply, causing her to aim a fake swing at my head. "Anyway, she said smiling and digging in her pocket, "I've got something for you."

With a broad grin she held out a stick of chewing gum, sliding it out of the silver wrapping to make it easier for me to take.

"Does my breath smell or something Ems?" I joked as I popped the minty stick into my mouth and chewed happily. "Is that what you're trying to tell me?"

"I'm trying to tell you that I want you to multitask Nomi," she said quietly. "You told me once you could chew gum and shoot people. Prove it to me now, get out there, chew that gum and shoot those targets, no mistakes! I want a clean fast round Nomi, can you do that for me?"

"I can do that Miss Fitch; wish me luck?"

"Always Miss Campbell, but like I said you don't really need it babes, you'll be awesome."

Our conversation was interrupted by the announcer calling my name, and one of the stewards began waving at me frantically to head out into the arena. I got a slap on the back from Emily as I walked away; and, with my heart beating rapidly in my chest in anticipation, I walked past the barriers to the entrance.

It was a strange feeling as I stepped through the concrete block 'doorway' and out into the sunshine of the combat arena, rusting cars, barrels and fake walls laid out in front of me. I sensed, rather than saw, the spectators on their raised bleachers safely behind me, all sitting waiting for the next competitor to run the gauntlet for their pleasure. There was a ripple of applause as I slipped on my shooting glasses and cocked the HK, grasping onto the fore grip tightly; I'd added the vertical grip to the picatinny rail earlier in the week, much to Emily's amusement. She told me that evidence proved that didn't make much difference to a shooters accuracy. I didn't care though, it made me feel better and that's all that mattered; it was a familiar grip on an unfamiliar weapon, and sometimes that kind of psychology is important.

I had no idea what I was about to face in the arena. All I knew was the basic layout of the course, but I had no idea where the targets would appear from, friend or foe. My eyes, however, were scanning the course in front of me for the bullet holes that might give me an indication of where the targets would appear from; untidy patterns of splintered wood a dead giveaway to the experienced competitor. I was surprised to see them to be perfectly honest, it was a sign that the previous shooters hadn't been controlled in their actions; presumably just 'spraying and praying' and hopefully missing the target along the way.

It was the little things that made the difference I'd been taught, the little things like looking for hints and controlling your shots. The one thing that I knew for certain about this competition was that it is a game of nerve and skill, I just hoped I had enough of both.

I could feel the familiar adrenaline coursing through my veins as I stared down the course, waiting for the sound of the hooter to begin the game. I pulled the stock into my shoulder and thumbed the safety off, setting the fire selector to burst. As it had done so many times before, time slowed down as I waited. I could take in everything as my peripheral vision kicked in, my mind and body tuning themselves in for the ordeal ahead. I could smell the familiar aroma of grease and oil from my weapon and the dry heat of the sun baking down on my face. If it wasn't for the cheers of the crowd behind me I could have been back in the deserts of Iraq or the barren foothills of Afghanistan, everything felt so familiar.

It was a good sign.

At the end of this round there would be a winner and a loser, and for the first time since I started this competition I wanted to be the winner. I wanted to win this thing outright and make Emily proud, make Rob eat his words, and show the world that Naomi Campbell was the real deal. Tell everyone that was watching that, like a phoenix from the flames, I was back in the game; a warrior reborn.

"Ready?" the controller called from his booth, little more than a table with a cover for shade. It was time, it was more than time, time to stand up and be counted. Time to become a winner, or a loser; time to see if I still had it. I nodded and began to breathe deeply, filling my lungs with precious oxygen, calming my racing pulse, readying myself for the chase. Within seconds of my nod the red light in front of me blinked into life, and I waited for it to go out.

Game on; time to be a winner.

.

.

.

**Authors Note **– Thanks for the thoughts for S guys, I mean it. The last I heard she's a very, _very_ sick little girl, she might not even pull through; but I know we can make a difference one way or another.

Es


	46. Game Over

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness, a heavy case of writers block and a ex I could happily put in the Basement with Naomi right now!

I still nothing to do with Skins, (but then do we care about Skins any more? Well until that Gen 2 Movie appears anyway).

**Authors Note: **Hi guys, back to conclude that alleged cliffhanger, bit of a long one this…sorry for that but I just couldn't break it up. Wonder if Hawke will notice the changes (-:

Hope you enjoy it…

**Chapter 46 – Game Over**

It happened like every other time the shit hit the fan in my life, in the blink of an eye. Between one racing heartbeat and the next the red light went out and I was off; rifle in my shoulder tracking the course with my eyes, hunting down the signs that would tell me that something was going to appear in front of me.

It was exactly as I told James back at Fitch Manor, it was a balance between running the course fast and finding the accuracy that meant you didn't miss a hostile, or hit a friendly. As I stepped across an invisible line, things started to happen, the first stage appeared in front of me, tall grey 'hijacker' targets popping into view; some of them fixed, some of them moving. I brought the sights up to my eye line, the sight's bright red dot making things that little bit easier in the afternoon sun. I lined up on the nearest target as I sprinted over towards the first 'cover' spot, letting of my first burst and knocking the target flat; all three shots falling clearly in the kill zone, splintering the patched plywood. I knew it was important to make sure my shots were true; hitting the wooden target wasn't enough; you had to make sure you hit the figure as well, guaranteeing the 'kill' or risk losing points.

As I moved methodically from one spot to another, two more of the 'bad guy's' fell to the HK's beautifully accurate fire; two bursts of fire, six clean shots and I was through and clear. With the close targets eliminated I began to concentrate on shooting the more distant targets; the slightly longer barrel of the HK being a real advantage over my old C8CQB here; I flicked the fire selector to single shot and began picking off the targets, using the increased range to shoot without having to move again until they were all 'dead'.

I was really beginning to enjoy myself again as I fell into the regular rhythm; run and shoot, run and shoot, that's all there was to my life at that very moment, my nerves forgotten as the focus on the task consumed me. Run to the next spot, where I could get a clear shot, and squeeze the trigger, putting a burst of fire into the centre of the target. Run and shoot; it sounds so simple and looks so easy, but it's a combination of speed, reactions and nerve. It was a real skill, and it was a skill I had discovered in myself once more. Again and again the silhouettes appeared in front of me causing me to fire, or pull away as an innocent figure appeared; and again and again I sprinted from one place to another, my footing sure on the dusty surface.

With one final, three shot, burst, I smashed apart the wooden backing of the last 'hostile'; and I ran through the markers into the next section, a whole new set of targets magically appearing before me. As I dashed around a set of barrels, I had a real déjà vu moment as I brought up my rifle up to fire at the target that span around in front of me. It was just like that very first run at Fitch Manor, when Jenna had flipped the switch and shocked me into shooting the 'friendlies'. This time, however, I was better, sharper, more prepared; and I switched my aim instantly, shooting past the 'good guy' to the 'killer' beyond.

This section was more of a challenge, there were more 'friendlies' and more of the 'hostiles' hidden behind cover. I was forced to slow my relentless pace sightly, the adrenaline coursing through my veins causing my to curse under my breath at the delay. I wanted to be sprinting from one place to the next, running and gunning as I did so; but I knew it was useless, slowly and steadily I took it, maintaining my accuracy, avoiding those penalties, the penalties that would give Cook the win. Before I realised it I'd cleared that arena and was sprinting for the markers again.

The next section I came across was through a wooden frame, already showing the signs of errant rounds. It was obviously designed to be the 'kill house', the close quarter battle training simulator I had thrived on in the CPU. I was on familiar ground, now, it wasn't about pure speed and accuracy, no longer about running and shooting; now it was all about sure footedness and quick reactions; and as I made my way into the opened topped "building", I felt immediately at home.

Five hostiles and three friendly targets later I was hoping that I was on the final stretch. Time meant nothing in here, so focused I was on clearing each of the 'rooms', but I knew from some underlying instinct that I couldn't be far from the end; the previous competitors not taking all that long to complete their runs. As I swung the HK through a doorway, following the arrows on the floor to indicate the direction I needed to go, I faced every soldiers worst nightmare; the hostage situation. In slow motion three targets span around in front of me, two of them were the classic terrorist, the balaclava wearing figure carrying an AK47, six shots later they were both riddled with bullets and I was already drawing down on the last target; the one in the centre, the most difficult one to get right…the single sunglasses wearing 'hostile' with a huge moustache and a gun to the head of a child.

Knowing that every second counted I lined up the headshot and pulled the trigger, the barrel swinging into place in one smooth movement. As the recoil smashed into my weakening shoulder I sent the rounds into the head of the attacker, missing the hostage by the tightest of margins. In the real world I wouldn't be on that kiddies Christmas card list, but in my world it was better scared and alive, than stone cold dead.

As I looked for the next move a bright orange light started flashing and a hooter went off somewhere above me.

"_End of round, make safe your weapon." _A stentorian voice bellowed out over a concealed speaker, and I hefted the HK and clicked the selector to safe. Breathing heavily at the exertion, I unclipped the C-Mag; placing it on the floor and emptying the breech by cocking it three times.

"Weapon clear," I called out, holding open the breach and seeing it was empty as I peered in to check. With my usual military control I locked down the rifle and picked up the magazine, thanking the gunsmiths that tuned it in my head. It had acted, as Emily had promised, flawlessly; I simply hoped that the time it had given me would be enough. Without warning, a door opened in the side of the 'building' and I made my way out through a narrow passageway to the safe area and the applause of the waiting crowd. Interrupted only by the sound of the voice on the speakers.

"_Ladies and gentlemen, with a time of one minute and forty five seconds and no penalties; Miss Naomi Campbell of Close Protection. Miss Campbell takes herself back to the top of the leader board with her score, but with James Cook still to make his run it's all to play for here. A round of applause for Miss Campbell please."_

I hadn't realised it, locked away as we were in the staging area, but the crowd here had been getting a running commentary on the competition; in fact for all I knew they'd been getting a running commentary on my run as well, the commentator probably pointing out every flaw, every mistake I had made. As the applause came again at the commentators words I scanned the crowd, looking for Emily's familiar face…

…and felt my heart sink when I found it wasn't there.

"This way Miss Campbell please," a steward said gesturing for me to follow a set of railings to a large white tent. Before I was allowed in, my rifle and C-Mag were taken from me, my unused pistol and my assault vest full of ammunition going along with them. I was assured that they would be placed with the rest of my equipment in storage for after the competition, and it was then I realised why I hadn't see any of the other competitors back in the staging area after their runs. We were obviously being segregated from everyone else after our run was complete; presumably so we couldn't give friends or colleagues hints about the course.

I felt strangely naked as I walked into the tent, my tight black vest top exposing a little too much bare flesh for my liking. I could feel eyes upon me as I walked in, a faint hint of applause and more than a few mutterings at my score.

Right then and there I didn't give a flying fuck, because there, sat at a table at the end applauding wildly were my own personal fan club; Emily and Jenna Fitch, both beaming at me proudly.

"Do you want a drink Naomi dear," Jenna said as I made my way over and sat down, feeling suddenly weary as the adrenaline began to fade.

"Some water would be good thank you Jenna," I replied and took a long swig from the bottle she handed me.

"That was incredible Naomi, I mean absolutely incredible. You absolutely hammered the other guys times," Emily beamed, probably annoying the fuck out of everyone else around us. "The previous best round was one minute fifty two seconds, you smashed that to pieces."

"Yeah, but there's people still to come Emily," I said cautiously, feeling the nervous energy that I had been running on sapping from my body as I spoke. "Not least Cook and he's really good."

"But this _is_ his weakest round Naomi," a familiar voice said from behind me. "So don't write yourself off just yet." Effy sat down at the table nodding her hellos to the Fitch's. "I told you he was worried about you, now perhaps you can see why."

"I don't get you," I replied, before taking another long swig from the bottle, gulping down the cool liquid hungrily.

"This really is his weakest round Naomi, James isn't really suited for the running about shooting people like you are, it's not what he was trained for. He's going to have to be right on top of his game to beat you today."

"I've seen him work Effy," I replied sitting back in my chair and looking at her carefully to see if she was winding me up. "he's better than me, weakest round or not."

Effy and Emily shared an exasperated look before rounding on me, I really didn't want their attempts at an ego massage and decided to change the subject, cutting them off at the pass.

"You and I need a chat as well Effy Stonem," I said quickly, before either of them could speak. "Someone has been telling tales out of school."

"Oh," Effy said softly meeting my raised eyebrow with a frown, "I take it James had a word with you then?"

I nodded in reply and stared at her, watching with amusement as the implacable Stonem façade began to crumble.

"What's this about?" Emily asked suspiciously, too suspiciously for my liking.

"The conversation we had before that last round," I said cryptically, hoping she'd put two and two together without me having to say it out loud; walls and tents having ears as they say. "About someone and their 'all-knowing' nature."

"Oh, that!" Emily said nodding her understanding. "Yes, we definitely need a chat about that Effy."

"Tell me I was wrong," Effy challenged, her eyes flicking between mine and Emily's.

"You were wrong," I said coolly, lying like a trooper.

"More or less," Emily added, "you did say you'd thought about it Naomi."

Effy's eyes lit up at Emily's admittance and I moved to crush her faint jubilation.

"I did say I'd _thought_ about it Ems, but I also said I wasn't _serious_ about it. I think about a doing _lot_ of things remember? Doesn't mean I do anything about them, not at first anyway."

Emily flushed slightly and looked away, at first I thought I'd embarrassed her by unintentionally putting her down, it was only after I saw Effy and Jenna looking at her with grins on their faces that I realised that my words could be misinterpreted.

"Oh sod off the pair of you," I said blushing myself as they both bit back smirks at our obvious embarrassment. "That's not what I meant and you know it; can't you try stepping out of the gutter for half a second?"

"We do dear, but it doesn't make it any less funny," Jenna said completing my humiliation. "Now, you must be starving Naomi dear, Emily said you haven't eaten since breakfast. I think we should have something to eat over in the spectators area, we have our own table; Effy will you join us?"

"I'd love to, but I'll have to pass Mrs Fitch," Effy said formally, standing as she did so. "I promised James I'd be at the gate to wish him luck, apparently it's what all devoted partners do."

She eyed Emily playfully as she said it, smiling as Ems blushed once more. "I'll leave you all to it, I hope you win Naomi, James is going to take me to my favourite restaurant if you do. The food is excellent there, and I am eating for two now."

"What happens if I lose?" I asked, before regretting my words at Effy's raised eyebrow.

"I'm just _positive_ you don't want to know," she replied in her best Southern belle accent, faking a swoon before laughing and saying her goodbyes.

I was just as positive she was right.

o+o+o

The three of us had a rather good lunch at the Fitch's table in the large marquee Cook and I had sat outside earlier. We were in a private section at the back, screened off from view; a VIP area where only the privileged few could gain entry.

I'd been protesting that a light sandwich would do; but when I smelt the food that was being served, my stomach told me that I wanted something more substantial. Jenna led us over to the table and I was surprised to see Rob and Katie sat on their own, empty plates of food in front of them.

"Naomi love, that was fantastic," Rob said standing as we approached. I wondered how he'd known about my run until I spotted the screens scattered around the area; huge flat screen televisions showing different camera shots of the arena, and the competitor that was running through it; their MP5 held loosely as they did. My professional brain was already scolding them for their sloppiness as I watched.

"Thank you Mr Fitch," I replied tearing my eyes from the screen and slipping easily back into formal mode. "I'm quite pleased with that time as well."

"It's nice to know I picked the right person to look after my Emily, I hope you have been keeping her safe while she's been here," he joked, "no slacking off to train for this competition I hope."

"Naomi's been doing her job _perfectly_ Daddy," Emily said defending me instantly. "She's always there when I need her."

"Oh yes," Katie said with a subtle smirk at her sister that Rob totally missed. "These two are practically inseparable, sometimes you'd think they were _joined at the hip_."

"Well that _is_ what I'm paid for Mrs Fitch-Brace," I replied not failing to notice the subtle inflection in her voice, hinting at our relationship. "Isn't that right Mr Fitch?"

Rob, to my relief, nodded at my words, designed to neatly pull the rug from out of Katie's little sarcastic comments. "That's absolutely right Naomi, I'm so pleased that you take the responsibility so seriously; not that common with youngsters today I find."

"Yeah well…" Katie started, that look of mischief still on her face, "I think Naomi is _very_ serious about sticking close to Emily, aren't you Naomi?"

"Always," I replied simply, noticing Emily's lips twitch into a smile at my words.

"Well now we've established that Naomi's been doing her job in your absence Robert, is there anything you'd like? I thought I'd treat these two to lunch, you're welcome to join us of course." Jenna interrupted our gladiatorial contest of jibes, with her invitation and I watched as Robs face faltered slightly. I was interested to watch these two together, I'd only really seen them amongst crowds of other people; at the ball and at the breakfast afterwards. Their relationship was always said to be 'perfect' however I knew the truth and I wanted to see how they acted to fool the masses.

"Oh that's a real shame love," Rod said with a frown gesturing at the plates, "Katie and I just ate."

"Well that doesn't matter does it dear?" Jenna said waving at someone on the other side of the 'room', "I'm sure you won't mind if we order something quickly while we wait for James' turn."

"Not at all, not at all," Rob said magnanimously. "You go ahead, Katie and I were just about to pop off to go and see the guys from AMT anyway; we'll leave you to it."

"You don't have to do that Daddy; I'm sure Jay and Peter will understand." Emily said, sitting down next to Katie and smiling her best fake smile.

"No, no," Rob said, an artful hint of sorrow in his voice. "We did promise we'd see them this afternoon and now is as good a time as any. You ladies enjoy your lunch, come on Katie let's go see if we can't knock these guys down a few quid on that deal we have; I'll show you how the old man does business."

To her credit, Katie didn't exactly look best pleased as she got up to follow Rob away, however she was all smiles by the time she caught him up; her 'daddies little girl' mask firmly in place.

"Good luck with that _daddy_." Emily said absently as the walked around the corner and out of earshot; her voice dripping with honey, mixed with a healthy pinch of sarcasm.

"What's that Emily?" Jenna asked as she called over a member of staff to take our lunch orders.

"Dad and AMT, total waste of fucking time."

"Who are AMT?" I wondered out loud, pointing at the pasta dish on the menu and ordering a diet coke.

"They're one of our suppliers, I met with Jay and his boss on Monday. They were looking to tie us down to a longer contract so I sorted them out, for a price of course. I did tell Katie, and it was in my daily report to the office; but it looks like _someone_ decided to ignore it. So daddy-dearest isn't going to get a 'few quid' knocked off our deal, because yours truly here has already done it. I've saved us a fortune if we get the new India deal and even the owner Peter is happy about it"

"Well done Emily, once again you manage to pull off a miracle," Jenna said enthusiastically. "Sometimes I wonder what exactly it is my husband does at the company he set up."

"So do I mum, most of the time in fact. There are days when I wonder if I'm the only one that does any real work there."

"Which days are those Emily?"

"Ones that end in 'Y'."

We had a little laugh at Emily's attempt at humour, even though we all knew it was in fact deathly true. To be perfectly honest I was too tired to be bothered and I left mother and daughter to it; half listening to their conversation, half watching the competition unfold on the flat screen TV's.

It was a surprisingly professional set-up, multiple well positioned cameras capturing all of the action as the competitors went by. Some high level shots were used to give an overview and some close action shots for the detail. Whomever was directing the cameras was doing a really good job of editing it all together; it really couldn't be easy trying to keep up with the action without a cameraman on the ground in the line of fire.

Frankly it seemed an awful lot of effort for a competition like this, but then there was an awful lot of money changing hands here, and I guess the expectations are just higher.

My viewing of the competition on the telly was curtailed by the arrival of our food, and I was pleased to see Emily tucking into her chicken burger; the bun, burger and fries vanishing in a heartbeat. It made me feel good to see her appetite returned, it had been nagging away at the back of my mind all week, despite out little chat.

"You not eating that Nomi?" Emily said as I pushed my pasta around my plate. I'd eaten about half of it before discovering my appetite had vanished, being replaced with a gnawing anticipation that was eating away at me. I was so close to winning the competition I could taste it; yet I knew that it would be taken away from me in less than ten minutes time.

"I'm not really that hungry right now Ems," I said pushing the plate away from myself. Jenna looking at me sympathetically.

"Nerves?" she asked as Emily began hovering up my unwanted pasta like an eating machine.

"Not really," I replied, smirking as Emily troughed down. "Perhaps just a little bit maybe." I confessed as Jenna looked at me knowingly. "I guess I just want it over now really. Get the disappointment out of the way, you know?"

I got a snort and a stern look from Emily over the table, her mouth fortunately full of spicy meatballs and cannelloni.

"I think Emily is trying to tell you not to be so negative Naomi," Jenna said laughing away.

"Don't know what you mean Jenna," I said defensively, looking over at the girl that was chewing quickly to have her say too.

"Naomi dear, Emily's absolutely right, you need to have more faith in yourself; and as for you Emily," she said watching as her daughter noisily swallowed the mouthful of food. "You need to accept that Naomi isn't quite as full of herself as someone like, say, Katie is; and make some allowances. You also need to remember your manners at the table as well," she added frowning disapprovingly.

"Sorry mum," Emily said chastened, "it's just…Naomi's so fucking good at what she does and I want her to remember that."

"Yes Emily, I think we both know that dear," Jenna sighed looking at us both. "…and I think we both know you do it out of _love_."

I found myself staring at Jenna in shock as Emily choked on the mouthful of food she'd just shovelled in.

"Honestly," she said, looking fondly at the pair of us; "what am I going to do with you two? Do you really think it isn't obvious to me how far this has gone?"

"We're trying to be discrete mum," Emily said, wiping her mouth with a napkin. "We don't want dad finding out about us."

"Oh, I wouldn't worry about that," Jenna said confidently, "your father can't see past the end of his nose most of the time; you know how self absorbed he is. I'm sure Katie takes after him you know. _You_ on the other hand, _I_ can read like a book."

"What gave us away?" I asked, the analytical part of my brain running around looking for what I needed to do to ensure we weren't discovered again. Far too many people seemed to have sussed us out, and that concerned me.

"You know, it's not just one thing Naomi, it's more a collection of things that when you add them up make it obvious. I knew you two had an attraction for each other the first time I met you. Then there was that time when Emily shot you Naomi…"

"Yeah, well we don't need to go over that again Mum, that was an accident," Emily interrupted, embarrassedly.

"and now it's pretty easy to put two and two together," Jenna continued unfluttered. "You're _extremely_ comfortable around each other, you share little looks now and again, like when Robert was talking earlier for example, like an old married couple; and Emily's just stolen your lunch Naomi and you never even blinked. Like you've been sharing a lot, like you've gone a little bit further with your relationship than the last time I saw you…

Jenna stared me squarely in the eye, as if appraisingly before continuing. "…and trust me Naomi, if my daughter has taken that step with you, it must be love. She doesn't just sleep with every girl that comes along you know."

"MUM!" Emily shouted, her cheeks flaming; all around us eyes began to turn our way at her exclamation and I could feel the hairs pricking up on the back of my neck as they did so.

"Now, now Jenna love," Rob Fitch said appearing from the far end of the tent. "What are you doing to embarrass poor Emily here?"

He sat down at the table, a bottle of beer in his hand, within seconds his shadow appeared; Katie Fitch smirking away as she say down looking at her sisters embarrassed face.

"Actually I was just telling Naomi how truculent she can be, I was telling her about the time when Emily was seven and her and Katie…"

"MUM!" Katie exclaimed, suddenly blushing as hard as her sister, but presumably for a different reason. "You can't go around telling perfect strangers about things like that!"

"Katie dear, Naomi's hardly a perfect stranger now is she? As your father keeps saying she's practically one of the family now."

Katie muttered something incomprehensible at Emily who barked back at her; I looked across at them quizzically. I'd heard Emily talk to her sister like that over the phone and I had no more idea now, what they were saying to each other, than I did then.

"Twin," Rob said noticing my look, "it's their very own secret language. The girls have been using it for years haven't they love?" Jenna nodded her agreement and Rob continued, ignoring the looks he was getting from his daughters. "They used it almost exclusively with each other until they were about twelve and now they only use it when they want to keep their mother and I out of their conversation."

"We were nine daddy, not twelve." Katie said frowning at him. "I was nine when _I_ decided that we were too grown up to speak like that any more."

She gave Emily a superior look and I watched as Emily's eyes hardened and her mouth opened to retort.

"Oh look," Jenna interrupted, not a moment too soon. "It looks like James is ready to go."

I'd totally missed the announcement in the little conversation that had preceded Rob's arrival; it explained now why he had returned to the table anyway. I stared at the screen as James prepared himself, pulling back the cocking handle on the familiar looking M4 carbine he was using, and digging his toes into the dirt for better purchase. A little red flag came on the screen, presumably indicating the start light I had gone off earlier, this was confirmed a second later when it vanished and the camera shot changed to see Cook sprinting across the dirt into the first section.

It was just like watching him in the arena at his club, he movements were fluid, not a jot of energy wasted. His rifle tracked with his head and target after target fell to his precise aim. Considering Effy had said that this wasn't his strongest round he was doing a fabulous job of it; even his magazine changes were smooth, his fingers pressing the release lever and the new magazine locked in place before the spent one had finished dropping to the floor.

It was like a ballet of precise movements, economical, efficient and devastatingly effective. As much as I couldn't take my eyes off the motions of my boss as he ran the gauntlet; my eyes were half fixed on the clock at the top of the screen which was displaying my final time and Cook's current one; the numbers running by in a blur.

In what seemed like an impossibly short time James was through the outside sections and into the CQB building, his head moving left and right as he made his way carefully through the maze of windy corridors and half obscured rooms, the targets being dispatched cleanly as he went. The camera changed suddenly as Cook rounded a doorway, and I recognised the final room layout from my own run. Cook came into view at the corner of the screen and I watched as he raised his M4 and fired four quick bursts into the wooden targets that appeared in front of him. I saw his time freeze at the top of the screen as plywood splinters flew out as the last target fell. One minute and forty _four_ seconds it read and I heard a sigh of disappointment from Emily as she realised that he'd beaten me by one second. That one second being more than enough to keep him above me for the combined title. Sure I'd won the pistol shooting, but he'd taken the last two rounds and proven himself the better, or more practiced soldier.

I looked away from the screen and began mentally rehearsing what I'd say to him in a couple of minutes when he and Effy would make their way into the tent to the applause of the crowd. Sure there were other competitors to go, but with their previous scores it would take a Herculean effort for anyone to catch him now. I was the only one with a chance, and I'd blown it; it was game over, victory Cook.

o+o+o

I was still contemplating my misery when I felt a pat on my back and I looked up to see Jenna regarding me sadly.

"Never mind Naomi, it was very well done," she said as I looked at the screen to see Cook making his weapon safe and walking out of the chamber, kicking the doorway as he went past. I stared fascinated at the screen, ignoring the consoling comments that were being passed to me from the Fitch's, wondering why Cook looked so pissed off. His whole body language said that he was annoyed at himself for something, but for the life of me I couldn't understand why. I could only assume it was because he thought that his time was longer than he needed, because from what I'd seen he'd had the perfect round.

"What's up with him?" Emily asked and I looked around to see that she too was staring at the screen with a frown on her face. I was about to answer when I saw her eyes light up, a broad smile appearing to follow. She looked across at me, excitement written all over her face, and I looked back at the screen to see what she had spotted that I hadn't.

There it was, right in front of my eyes. Cooks time in the corner was framed in red with a large 'P' next to it. The camera was focused on one of those last targets, the important one, the man with the hostage. There were bullet holes in the bad guy as you would expect, three neat holes perforating the head, the 'tache and glasses obliterated by the tight grouping; but, inconceivably, the camera panned across and there in the centre mass of the little girl with her light coloured pigtails was another group, just as neat, just as expertly shot; just in exactly the wrong place.

Cook had hit a friendly…

Cook had hit a fucking friendly and got a penalty for it…

I'd only gone and fucking won…I'd only gone and won the whole fucking competition!

o+o+o

There was a weird feeling of numbness as I heard a whoop of joy from Emily, a celebratory cry that signalled her happiness at my triumph. I vaguely felt another, harder pat on the back and dimly heard Jenna congratulating me.

I could feel my pulse pounding in my head, every part of me wanted nothing more than to jump to my feet and shout 'YES!' as loudly as I could. Unfortunately there were two things that were preventing me from doing so. Firstly I'm sure it's not the done thing in a VIP section of a tent when you're surrounded by your employers; and secondly, I couldn't actually feel my legs right at that moment.

"_Ladies and gentlemen, with a time of one minute and forty four seconds and _one_ penalty; Mr James Cook of Close Protection. A round of applause for Mr Cook please, for a fine defence of his title."_

The speakers blared out the result, confirming what the screens had displayed. The camera changed to the results table, my name still in first place, Cook slipping into the table immediately below me. I had no idea how the scores were worked out, and frankly I didn't care; the five points that separated us were clear and, barring that miracle round, no-one else could catch me.

"Well done Naomi," I heard Rob say from his seat next to Jenna, "I knew you could do it." He leaned across his wife and cuffed me on the arm with one of his ham sized fists in congratulations. "Looks like I'd better get my cheque book ready."

"There are still other competitors Mr Fitch, I haven't won yet."

"Well, I don't know about that," Cooks drawl cut through my mental fog. "I'd say it's just a matter of time Naomikins; I'd start preparing your speech, if you haven't already. I sure hope I get a mention at least."

I turned to look at him, he looked as cocky as ever, but I could see the pain of disappointment in his eyes. He really did want this and once again I felt like a fraud.

"Congratulations blondie," Cook said extending his hand to me. To my surprise as I took it, he dragged me from my seat and wrapped me up in a bear hug; lifting me from my feet easily and spinning me around. "Fucking well done girl, you've done us proud!"

"I had you beat though girl," he whispered as he put me down once more, his lips to my ear so no one else could hear him. "I had you beat right the way up to that last target."

"Don't tell me," I whispered back, my stomach falling. My brain was telling me that it was obvious what he'd done, throwing the round at the end to gift me the win. "You didn't, you made _me_ promise James."

"Oh no blondie, you beat me fair and square," he replied releasing me and speaking normally. "I saw my name up there in lights at the end and wasn't paying attention; you know how it goes Naomi, lose focus and someone gets hurt or killed. I lost focus today and I lost, simple as that. Looks like dinner is on me tomorrow night."

"Dinner sounds like a great idea," I heard Rob bellow from behind me. "I think a celebration for Naomi's win here today is in order."

I caught Emily's eye as I sat down, a wry look shared between us at the thought of yet another Fitch family get together. The last thing I wanted to do was spend the evening putting on a front; in fact the only thing I really wanted to do right now was climb into the pool at the hotel to wind down and then spend an hour or five in their Jacuzzi tub letting the bubbling water ease out the kinks.

"I think I'll have to take a rain check there Rob," Cook said quickly. "I'll be honest with you, this afternoon has took a chunk out of me and all I want to do is head back to my hotel and hit the showers. Maybe spend the evening wondering what might have been you know?"

Rob nodded sagely before looking at me. "I can count you in on my celebratory dinner though Naomi, guest of honour, triumphant victor carried in by her adoring fans."

I grinned wryly at the image of being carried anywhere, let alone by my 'fans' and shook my head.

"I might have to pass as well if you don't mind Mr Fitch, as James said; today takes a lot out of you and I'm not as fit as I was six months ago. My old war wounds are aching quite a lot right now and I think a hot bath and bed are the order of the day. Besides, by the time we get away from here I presume it'll be quite late."

"Well I won't say I'm not disappointed in the pair of you," Rob replied shaking his head. "But I guess I understand; looks like it's just family Fitch for the celebrations then."

There was a general sharing of looks at Rob's announcement; unsurprisingly only Katie seemed in any way pleased about the idea of a family meal, to my amusement Emily looked mortified and I tried to think of a way to tease her about it later.

"Miss Campbell, Mr Cook?" a strange voice said from behind us. I turned to see a man in a smart suit standing to the side of the entrance way.

"Yes?" I asked, wondering what the hell was going on.

"If you would like to follow me we have some details to arrange before the presentation ceremony, we would also like to have some photographs taken, just to ensure that we have them, you understand?"

"It's just a formality Naomi," Cook said at my confused look. "Like I said it's only a matter of time before your declared the winner and they want to get the fancy pictures done now so they can pose you like a dummy."

"Pictures?" I asked, not liking the sound of that one little bit.

"That's right blondie, pictures. You're big news in the industry now li'l darling; you and me taking first and second, well, that's going to be worth a fortune for us. We'll have people begging to sign us up."

"I don't know boss…" I started and stopped as he clapped his burly arm around me.

"Think of all that free publicity Naomikins, this is going to be great. I can see it now, _'the rising star of Close Protection narrowly pips the boss to the post as they dominate Arms Expo 2010'_"

His eyes glazed slightly, to the amusement of the Fitch's, as he waxed lyrical about our 'impending' headlines. Personally I wasn't happy. This was a totally unwanted side effect of winning the competition, fame and fucking fortune. As Cook led me away from the table and towards the waiting 'suit' I felt a stone settle in my stomach. The last time I'd appeared in the press it had brought a lot of shit out of the woodwork, I just prayed that it wouldn't do it again.

o+o+o

Many hours after the event was over, I eased my aching body into the small public Jacuzzi by the hotels pool and sighed as the warm, bubbling water began it's work. From the moment that Cook had led me away from the tent I hadn't stopped, photograph after photograph they had demanded, and interview after interview.

I hadn't seen Emily since then either, except for one fleeting moment as I was handed my trophy in front of the dwindling crowd and had to make my acceptance speech.

"_Well I certainly didn't expect this,"_ I'd managed to say, forgetting almost instantly the 'helpful' prompts from Cook about how to handle the unexpected attention. _"I believe this is the time when I get to thank a few people for making this happen, but as I've just beaten the man that roped me into this competition, who happens to pay my salary, I think I should just keep quiet, and stay employed"._

To my surprise I got a ripple of laughter at my quip, and holding onto my courage I pressed on with what I wanted to say.

"_But seriously, thanks to James for the opportunity and for the close competition, it's nice to know that someone that good has my back if ever I need it."_

"_Same here,"_ Cook heckled from the side of the presentation area, his second place trophy resting on the floor by his feet.

"_and I must say thinks to Robert and Emily Fitch of Fitch Industries for the sponsorship, I have to say I doubt that I would have actually beaten James without the equipment they provided for me. James keeps telling me that talent wins through, but winning is a lot easier with the right kit as we all know. Thanks guys,"_

I caught Rob's approving look as I led the applause, I think I'd managed to score some more brownie points with him for that. I knew he'd be using that for all he could, and probably me along with it.

"_Finally I have a special thank you to Jenna and Emily Fitch. It's my job to make sure that the Fitch family come to no harm on my watch and it's a job I take very seriously. But even though they're my employers they have extended the hand of friendship, they've gone out of their way to give me the opportunity to train for this event; even digging up their back garden to build a shooting range for me to practice on before I flew out."_ More laughter followed this revelation. _"Anyway, even above that they have both encouraged me and have never stopped believing in me, even when I told them that I didn't have a chance here today. So for that my thanks, I doubt I could have done it without you."_

Jenna beamed at me from where she was playing the loving wife, arm in arm with her husband. Emily stood next to him looking on at me proudly as I thanked the organisers and the crowd, raising the monstrous trophy one last time for the last batch of photographs. It was the last time I saw her that afternoon, by the time I got away she had been whisked off by her father, a note being left for me at the hotel when I got there.

'_Nomi,_

_Fucking dad, arrgghhh! Look, I'm sorry I didn't get to see you before we left. Dad met one of his friends and insisted we leave, wouldn't take no for an answer either. Don't worry by the way, Tim is along with us so I'm safely looked after, not that we're in any danger here. I'll be back as soon as I can._

_I'm so fucking proud of you I could burst you know that? I can't wait to get you alone so I can tell you how proud I am; you were fucking incredible today, you are fucking incredible and I love you to bits._

_Wait up for me?_

_Love_

_Ems'_

She had signed off the note with three kisses, and added a smiley face and a heart for good measure. Six months ago I'd have destroyed this note, like I'd destroyed every single sappy little note that Amy had sent me; usually burning the paper to make absolutely sure that the guys couldn't find it, read it and take the piss. Now, however, I couldn't do it. I went to tear it up, but something stopped me, something made me fold it neatly, place it back in the envelope and tuck it away in my travel bag; hiding it in the suitcase lining for safety.

I didn't know if it was me, if it was her or if it was a combination of the two that had done it, but somewhere along the line I'd changed…

…and as I stretched out in the water, I hoped it was for the better.

I lay in the bubbling spa, feeling my muscles un-knot as the warm water lapped around me, eyes closed remembering that look, that simple look of love and pride that Emily had given me as she had looked up at me from an applauding crowd.

I liked that look, I decided. I liked that look a lot.

I heard the door to the tiny spa open and opened my eyes a fraction to see a robe slip to the floor and a pair of legs step into the Jacuzzi opposite me. I closed my eyes again in disappointment, I was enjoying the peace and quiet and I was annoyed that I now had to share it with one of the other guests. I was of a mind to get out of the pool and head back to my room when I was startled out of my thoughts by a foot touching my calf. It wasn't like it was an accident either, the toes had quite deliberately ran down my leg to my foot and I jerked away and snapped my eyes open…

…to stare into the brown eyes of the woman I knew that I unashamedly loved.

"Hi there," she said brightly, "do you normally let complete strangers play footsie with you."

"All the time," I teased, safe in the knowledge that those little misunderstandings were behind us. "thought you were out with the family."

"Mum got me out of it, dad was fucking about with one of his cronies drinking whiskey before the meal so she said we were leaving. Even _Katie_ walked away, I don't think he even noticed."

"So you haven't eaten then?" suddenly realising how hungry I'd become.

"No," Emily replied stretching her arms out on the sides of the spa pool and sighing contentedly, "and I'm starving as well Have you eaten yet?"

"Ems you ate your dinner _and_ mine earlier, how the hell can you be starving love?" I asked utterly gobsmacked.

"Cheeky," she said pushing me with her dainty little foot. I caught it with my hand and cupped her heel, running the fingers of my other hand along the strong muscle of her calf. "I was nervous anyway, you can't tease me for eating when I'm nervous."

I frowned at her, my hand pausing mid-caress.

"What?" she asked cocking her head at me.

"I thought you said you don't eat when you're nervous, that's what you told me on Sunday when you were scaring me shitless by starving yourself."

"That's different love," she said soothingly, stretching out another lithe leg, her foot reaching out to prod my arm insistently. "I was nervous for _you_ earlier."

"You were nervous for me, so you ate a shitload of food?"

"Exactly."

"But you were starving yourself because you were nervous last week," I said, really not getting it.

"Yes, that's right baby, I was; I was nervous for _me_ then, I always find I can't eat when I'm nervous for me, but I can't stop eating when I'm nervous for someone else. When we were thirteen Katie got hit in the head with a hockey stick at school, total accident of course, or so everyone thought…"

"Wasn't it?" I interrupted, the investigator coming out again.

"Maybe it was, but I was never convinced. The girl that hit her claimed it was an accident, talked her way out of it as well. Thing was Katie had been a bitch to her all term and I think she just lost it. Anyway, that's not the point, the point was I ate my way though my entire sweet hamper while I waited to find out how she was; and I ate most of hers when they kept her in overnight. I couldn't stop eating the whole time, it's been the same ever since. I'm nervous for me I can't eat; someone else, can't stop."

"You're very strange," I said to her, stroking her leg gently."

"Yeah well, you asked."

I settled down into the water, cradling Emily's feet in my lap, massaging her legs and running my fingers between her toes. We soaked away in silence the bubbling of the water a replacement for conversation. It was one more thing I loved about Emily, she was self contained. There were times when I couldn't shut her up, that was undeniable; but there times like this where she didn't need to fill the spaces with noise, where she was happy to sit in blissful silence. She was not in the slightest like Amy, who could never just sit like this, never just allow herself to relax and be quiet; endlessly talking, not caring who was around.

"Naomi," she said after about ten minutes of heaven. "As much as I want to stay right here and let you do that, I'm starting to get all wrinkly. Want to go back to our suite and order food?

"Sounds like a plan hun," I said letting go of her legs and stretching. "Gods I ache, even this hasn't helped."

"I have the very thing for you back in your room," Emily said cryptically turning her back on me and pushing her way out of the pool, the water trickling down the back of the swimsuit that clung to her buttocks, leaving almost nothing to my imagination. I sat back and enjoyed the sights as she, very deliberately, slicked the water from her body and pulled on the robe that had been dropped on the floor.

"Coming?"

Like the answer was going to be no.

o+o+o

"Oils?"

"Oil Naomi, not oils. Just a lovely lavender scented oil to give you a nice aromatherapy massage. Lavender to relax you, and a good massage to ease those aches. Got to look after my trophy winning girlfriend; now get that suit off and get on that bed."

"You don't have to do that Ems," I said stripping off my swimsuit as ordered. "Besides I'll make the bedding all wet."

"Then we'll sleep in _my_ room tonight," she replied peeling off her own swimsuit and towelling herself down. "Come on, stop complaining and get on the towels babe; let me do this for you, trust me you won't regret it."

With a grin at her forcefulness I slid my stiffening body onto the towels she had laid out carefully on the bed; resting my head sideways and shuffling until I was comfortable. I heard her walk away from me and hum to herself over by my dresser and then the room was filled with music as she turned on the radio. I heard Emily drop her towel to the floor, felt the bed sag slightly as Emily climbed on and then came the pleasurable feeling of her naked body settling over the small of my back, her weight resting on my backside.

"You ok baby?" she said as she stretched out my arms, her weight shifting as she leaned over me. I grunted in reply, not wanting to speak.

"Good, now just relax ok, I want you to do nothing else but lie there and relax."

It wasn't long before I was doing exactly that; Emily's hands turning my muscles to butter. There was no denying my girl had skills, in fact she was incredible. As I lay on that bed her long, powerful hands pushed up my spine, gently pressing on each vertebrae before spreading out over my shoulders, her thumbs driving them on. As her fingers edged over my shoulder they squeezed gently and rotated, her thumbs circling my bony shoulder blades, the movement and pressure untangling the bunched knots that the spa hadn't shifted.

"God your tense babe," she said as I groaned with pleasure as her hand hit the proverbial spot. "This is going to need a bit of work I think."

"No hurry," I mumbled before groaning again as she began to knead away at the tight muscle, her hands siding easily under the wonderfully smelling massage oil.

"No," she agreed, "no hurry at all."

For the next twenty minutes she worked over my body, her touch both delicate and hard as it was needed. From head to toe she pushed and pulled, kneaded and squeezed until my body was buzzing and my head was mashed. I'm sure there's only so much pleasure like this I can take before I would actually die; Emily Fitch was going to _massage_ me to death and there was absolutely nothing I could, or would, do about it.

"How you feeling now honey?" Emily asked finally easing up and sitting back on my butt, her hands resting on my waist.

"Great," I murmured, "absolutely great."

"You look it too," she said and I felt her lean forward and run a single finger up my back, slipping over the oiled skin tracing the spine of my red dragon. "I love this tattoo you know, I really fucking love it. It looks fantastic right now; it gleams, they look almost alive."

"Thanks, I'm really proud of it; it means a lot to me. Took fucking ages to get done too."

"It was worth it," she said her hands running up and down it, even down to tracking the kanji down the side. "You never did tell me about it."

"What do you want to know," I said, melting under her touch once more as that single digit roamed across my shoulder blade and all the way down my spine to the base.

"What does this say?" she asked her nail cutting through the oil as it scraped my skin over the lettering.

"Mother and daughter," I replied simply and winced as her nail accidentally dug into my flesh.

"Oh _Naomi_," she said wonderingly, running her hands back across my tattoo lovingly; pressing against the skin delicately as if it was the most precious thing she had ever handled. "I can see it, I can _totally_ see it. You're the little blue dragon aren't you?"

"That's me," I replied simply, "my mum and me; red and blue, fire and ice."

I grunted as Emily's weight shifted on my body, feeling her bare skin press across my back, her stiff nipples poking into me as she lay down against me, her arms pressed against mine, our fingers entwined; a double crucifix splayed out on the covers.

"Baby, you're anything but ice," she whispered into my ear. "I don't know why you think that. You're a wonderful, wonderful person, you care so much about everything. How can you believe you're like ice?"

"It's just the way I am Ems, don't tell me you haven't thought I was an ice cold bitch once or twice over the last couple of months."

"Once or twice," she admitted, sliding down my glistening body and placing a kiss on the spot where I knew the head of _my_ dragon was etched into the skin. "But I also know that you're only like that because you're passionate and caring, about the job, about me, about everything. I think your mum would be proud of you Nomi, in fact I know it. I've known you for such a short amount of time, and _I'm_ so proud of you I feel I can't even contain it."

We lay like that for a while, my massage being completed as Emily shifted her weight around on my back, her lips working their way up and across my shoulders and neck until I was sure she wasn't just kissing me, she was making love to my dragon. Eventually though the inevitable happened, Emily sat up and shifted her weight off me; my body feeling the slight chill of the air conditioning as she got up.

Slowly, so as not to ruin the good work she had done I rolled onto my back and looked up at her, as she squatted next to me, her hands on her thighs.

"You're pretty wonderful you know that, providing me with guns _and_ massages," I said looking up at her naked body, her eyes shining as I spoke. "I think I'll spend my winnings on getting you cookery lessons, then you'd be the perfect girlfriend."

"You know I think that's the first time you've called me that," she replied sliding herself onto me once more, my stomach twitching involuntarily as her neatly sculpted pubic hair tickled it as she sat down. "It's nice."

"That's the problem with a secret love affair Ems, I don't get to introduce you as anything but my boss."

"Or your package," she replied, leaning forward and running her hands over my body once more.

"Yeah," I said slipping my own hands up her smooth skin, caressing her sides softly before running them lightly over her breasts; smiling at her sharp intake of breath as the rough pads of my thumbs scraped across her nipples.

"But what a package it is," I said throatily as she lowered herself down, her lips attacking my neck. "They do say great things come in small sizes, and they're certainly right when it comes to you love."

"Shush Nomi," she rasped as she nipped at my earlobe, "just shush."

"I thought we were going to order room service babe," I whispered, wrapping my legs around her as she slipped down my body, her tongue darting, tasting my skin.

"We will," she said before her mouth enveloped my own nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure through my body.

"Later," she clarified, that husky, lust filled, voice managing to turn me on almost as much as her touch. "Much, much later…"

o+o+o

I lay staring up at the ceiling, as the moonlight from the window painted cobwebs of light and dark on the white plaster. It was long after midnight and Emily was fast asleep, her red hair spread out over the pillows and me as she curled up by my side in my room, our room.

I had a discovered a special love for this room and for this bed; the crisp white sheets acting almost as a protective blanket for the two of us. Here in this room there were no dangers, no mutterings and no funny looks. There was no snide comments from Rob and no sarcastic jibes from Katie Fitch-Brace. In this room, there was just me and Emily, and the love we both shared, a love I was still coming to terms with, but a love I felt as deeply as the one I had for my mother.

I loved this room for what it meant to me, the place where I had finally began the path to commitment, the place where I began to accept that I could live and love.

If love was about winning and losing, I now knew I was a winner; game over, mission complete.

.

.

.

**Authors Note **– Woof, that was a tough one to write, hope I did it justice.

Couple of bits of news, Noetic Science works people, in so many ways. Two people better with the power of focused mother nature and my friend S is still very sick, but is starting to breathe on her own now…please, please, please keep up the thoughts for her.

Oh and just for those of you that like cliffhangers, next weeks chapter is brought to you by the words Emily, black, cocooned and silk.

See you then yes?


	47. Friday, I'm in Love

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness, a heavy case of writers block and a ex I could happily put in the Basement with Naomi right now!

I still nothing to do with Skins, (but then do we care about Skins any more? Well until that Gen 2 Movie appears anyway).

**Authors Note: **Hello everyone, I'm in a bit of a mixed up mood at the moment as I found out that not only did my ex flee the country, but she's getting 'married' on Friday to boot. Sometimes I feel my life is like an episode of Skins, or at least one of the UK's really bad soap operas. (-:

Thanks to those of you that have passed on kind words about the last chapter, I really do appreciate them and hello to the new readers, it's nice to have you aboard – I hope you enjoy the ride as much as I do. A special note to _J.h.M_, thanks for the review…welcome to the fandom (-: As to that bad thing, I can't help that I'm afraid, after all, the characters in the show themselves _are_ British, (though I have cheated with Cook), I'm sure you'll get used to it though; just remember we pronounce Lieutenant, _lef_tenant and you'll be fine (don't ask I don't know either!).

Anyway people, chapter 47 is here already – told you this would be a 100 chapter story d-: enjoy!

**Chapter 47 – Friday, I'm in Love**

"Hey champ!" Emily said as I walked bleary eyed into the outer room of our suite. I'd been woken by the sound of voices talking away and the unmistakable sound of Emily's laughter.

"How are you feeling this morning Naomi?" Effy Stonem asked from one of the settee's, where she was sipping what smelt annoyingly like coffee; her gym outfit barely covered by a dark blue robe. I could feel my empty stomach wincing at the thought of the bitter liquid this early in the morning.

"Tired," I replied flopping down onto the sofa next to Emily and accepting the glass of orange juice she poured for me gratefully.

"Did we wake you?" Ems asked, leaning over to kiss me just before I took a sip. "Sorry babe, I did hope to let you get a bit of a lie in, you looked like you needed it."

"It's fine, I should have been up before now anyway," I said sipping at the cold juice with relish. "What's going on, pyjama party?"

"I thought I'd come over to say congratulations, and sort out our plans for tonight." Effy said tilting her coffee cup to me; "and to tell you how pissed off James is that you beat him yesterday."

"He said he was pleased," I said quickly, worrying once again that Cook's friendly congratulations had been a bit too much.

"He is Naomi, he's not pissed off at you; he's just pissed that he fucked up to _let_ you win. He knows without that penalty he would have won outright, he's blaming himself for being stupid."

"Well that's a relief," I said with a sigh. It was too, I had no idea how Cook would react, especially after all the bragging. I know he said that he wanted to win honest, but he didn't mention losing at any stage; I don't know how a man like James Alouicious Cook would take losing, especially to a woman.

"The not being pissed off at you, or him getting the penalty?"

"Bit of both really," I said honestly. "To be honest I wasn't that bothered about winning, but it's nice now I have."

"Nice cheque to take home though," Effy said with a wink.

"Yeah, that's going to help a lot actually." I told her as Emily snuggled her way into my arm. "Comfortable?" I added pointedly with a hint of joking sarcasm.

"Yes thanks," Ems replied patting me on the thigh; "and it's cheques actually Eff, don't forget the ones dad has to hand over to Naomi's charities."

"Fuck awful trophy though," I said looking at the multi-layered monstrosity that was propped up against the wall in the corner.

"I _like_ your trophy," Emily said slapping me on the leg once more. "It's going to look great on display, especially with that photo they took of you holding it up on the wall next to it."

I groaned at the thought of the stupid pose they'd got me to make, holding up the trophy like a race star. They both chuckled at my face and pressed on with their teasing.

"Well I've got to say I'm very glad it's going back to the UK with you Naomi, James was threatening to ship it over to our place in London if he won; and it's bad enough we've got one here. I'm sure it'll look just _lovely_ in your new place, it is so beautifully understated isn't it?"

"I think I might get it shipped it to JJ," I said ignoring the pair of them as best I could as they grinned openly at each other. "Might look best in the office, you know? Something to impress the clients with in the boardroom."

"With that photo on the wall next to it?" Emily said nudging me with her elbow.

"Definitely not," I said shaking my head.

"No?"

"No!"

Their laughter wasn't even interrupted by the knock at the door; faking a huff I climbed up off the sofa and went to open it, checking through the eyepiece first before opening it on the chain.

"Well if you want me to go away, Naomi dear, I will," Jenna said as I finally opened the door to let her in.

"Don't mind her mum, it's just her way," Emily said hugging her mother as she sat down next to her, nicking my spot. "I don't think she can help herself sometimes."

"You know what?" I said shaking my head at the three of them as they smiled at me. "I think I might just go back to bed and see if this morning can turn into something other than 'pick on Naomi day'."

"Have these two been picking on you dear?" Jenna said sympathetically clipping Emily on the back of the head gently.

"Ow, mum!" Emily protested, "stop that. Effy and I have simply been trying to ensure that Naomi doesn't get a big head after yesterday."

"Emily Fitch, I'm sure you know as well as I do that the last thing we have to worry about with Naomi here is her getting a big head. Just ignore them Naomi, I thought you were fantastic yesterday."

"Thank you Jenna," I said looking down my nose at Emily, "it's nice to be appreciated by _someone_ you know at least."

"Oh shush Naomi, you know we're only teasing you," Emily said quickly. "You know we're all really proud of you for winning yesterday."

"Indeed Miss Fitch," I said straightening and drawing myself to as close an approximation of standing at attention as I could; "whatever you say…"

o+o+o

One quick shower later and I was sat, dressed, at breakfast with Clans Fitch and Cook, feeling distinctly uncomfortable as they chatted about me as if I wasn't there; my performance at the competition being thoroughly dissected by Rob and Cook, Emily and Jenna chipping in now and again.

I tuned out the conversation, instead concentrating on tucking into the plateful of scrambled eggs that had in front of me. I wasn't really interested in listening to any of it; the last thing I wanted was attention, especially today. What I wanted today was a bit of peace and quiet, and the chance to reflect on the last few days. Since JJ found me, and gave me an escape from the streets, my life had been shaken to the core. I'd gone from having no friends, no future, no hope, and no desire to really fight for any of those things; to having a real reason to get up in the morning.

I had gone from nothing, to having a couple of people that I think I could be friends with, James and Effy and JJ; plus I now had people that cared for _me_ that I found _myself_ caring about, in Jenna and of course Emily. I'd thought of myself as a killer and a failure, now all of a sudden I was realising I was neither. It's a lot to process, and I'm not there yet. I'm moving forward, but I'm still a work in progress; I think I've still got a fair way to go yet.

"…and then I think perhaps we'll hit a club, what do you say Naomi?"

"Sorry?" I said scraping the plate with my knife before pressing the eggs onto the piece of Melba Toast I'd just cut.

"Something on your mind blondie?"

I looked across the table at Cook and shook my head, "not really boss, just eating that's all. Why?"

"Because James has been boring us all with his plans for the evening Naomi, and he was waiting for your input." Effy interrupted with an affectionate smile at her fiancée. "We can't ever just 'go out', everything has to be planned out to the n'th degree. Sometimes it's quite annoying."

"Sounds sensible to me actually," I replied, after swallowing the mouthful of food I'd just taken, feeling the hard toast scrape my throat as I forced it down. "There's nothing like having a good solid plan in place, especially as he's paying for everything."

"Hey now," Cook said indignantly, "I bet you dinner Naomi, not the entire night."

"Whatever boss," I finished; winking at him and going back to my food. "Anyway, I'm sure Miss Stonem and Miss Fitch here worked out the details earlier. They woke me up chatting this morning, gods only know what they've got in mind."

James looked quizzically at his fiancée, and Effy and Emily began regaling the table with the plans they'd obviously discussed in detail. It made me laugh, Effy criticising Cook for doing something that she had clearly spent a lot of time doing herself; planning our night out. As I watched the table listen to their chatter I noticed a frown forming on Katie's face, she did not look happy at all, and the more the details came out, the less happy she looked. It eventually dawned on me that she hadn't received an invitation to our little party and in the interests of keeping peace I decided to try and sort it out.

"Miss Fitch, Miss Stonem," I started getting an frown from the pair of them for my formality. "I was wondering if we should see if anyone else wants to join us; it seems a little silly not to invite everyone now they're here. Rob, Jenna would you like to join in our little celebration?"

"Do _I_ not get an invite then Naomi?" Katie snapped from where she was sat next to Rob. Just as I expected she would, she had played right into my hands.

"I'm really sorry Mrs Fitch-Brace; I think we'd totally assumed you were planning on coming with us." I replied in a voice dripping with sincerity. "I honestly didn't think you _needed_ a formal invite; but yes, obviously, you're more than welcome, like I say that was _always_ part of the plan."

She squinted at me suspiciously, as if trying to peer into my head as Emily took the hint; agreeing with me noisily. Before she could answer Rob began speaking.

"Well as much as celebrating with you fine people sounds like fun I'm afraid both Katie and I will have to pass. We're leaving straight after lunch for Las Vegas, we've got a meeting out there and I need my best girl with me to make sure it goes smoothly."

"You never mentioned a meeting daddy," Emily said and I could hear the strain in her voice, that slight strangling of her words that signified that Rob had just upset her.

"Well I say 'meeting', really we're taking that African bloke out to show him a good time, get him drunk, and hopefully relieve him of more money than the casino's do."

"General Kazir?" Ems asked and I could tell that she was struggling to hide the fact that she was hurt and pissed off. "I've already agreed a meeting with his people for next week when I'm back in London."

"Well by the time you sit down with the minnows, hopefully Katie and I will have the big fish himself well and truly landed, and begging to sign on the dotted line. The only shame is we won't be able to come out with you guys, a good night out with my friends sounds like much more fun."

"That is a shame Robert," Jenna interrupted before breakfast was ruined; "_I_ happen to be free though; and I'd love a good night out with everyone, if you don't mind a doddering old biddy like me tagging along that is."

"You'd be more than welcome Jenna," Cook said magnanimously, "it will be a real pleasure to have you tag along. I can guarantee that you'll all love the restaurant, it's one of Effy's favourites; she insists we visit every time we're over here."

The chit chat continued, as I went back to my rapidly cooling breakfast; and happily, this time I was left alone while I ate. I was starving and I felt like I could eat a horse; last nights celebratory meal mostly ending up left on the platter as Emily and I celebrated my win in other, more interesting and athletic ways. As I tucked into a round of toast, that I had snaffled from the rack in front of me and covered in marmalade, I started to pay a bit more attention to the goings on around me. Cook was chatting to Rob about their security team while they were in Las Vegas; Katie was glaring at Emily as she chatted to her mother, and Effy..?

…Effy was staring at me intently.

When I finally looked up at her, I noticed a strange look in her eyes and frowned as she looked quite deliberately towards the self service area.

"I think I'm going to get some more of that toast," she said standing up and grabbing her plate. "after all I am eating for two now."

"That sounds like a good idea," I said standing as well. "I sort of skipped a couple of meals yesterday and I'm starving. I suspect Miss Fitch here will be missing lunch again with the clean down so I'd better bulk up while I can."

"You can both come and have lunch at the club," Cook said cutting into a sausage with gusto. "You promised to let me have a play with your toys Naomi."

"Really," heard Katie say as I walked away, "I'm surprised Emily would let anyone else near Naomi's toys."

I rolled my eyes as the slightly less nice twin let go with, what was obviously, yet another sarky comment. Still I could afford to let her have her fun, as long as she wasn't planning on coming right out and revealing our relationship, Emily and I had agreed that. Ems was totally convinced that she'd get bored eventually anyway, but apparently she had a back up plan ready just in case.

I walked around the buffet area casually, ignoring the sound of conversation behind me eventually 'bumping' into Effy as she dug around unenthusiastically in the bain-marie that held the bacon.

"Turns my stomach now you know?" She said as she dropped the tongs and picked up a spoonful scrambled egg, dropping it onto my plate. "I'm sure it's all in my head, but for some reason I can't face eggs any more."

"Is it the pregnancy?" I asked, not really knowing. Apart from Gill I didn't have much experience with pregnant women; but I had heard the whole 'cravings' thing worked both ways.

"No, I think its too early for that," she said picking up a couple of pieces of dry toast and putting them on her plate.

"So what's the matter?" I said grabbing a piece of her, getting a slap on my wrist as I did so.

"What makes you think there's something the matter?" she asked, "perhaps I just wanted to talk to you."

"Yeah right," I snorted prompting a smile from the brunette, "so come on what's up."

"You _do_ know what Katie is up to don't you?" she said, glancing back at the table where Katie was engrossed in conversation with her father. "With all her little comments? She'd been making little digs about you and Emily all morning." I smiled and nodded in response.

"And it doesn't bother you?"

"Not particularly, Emily's got it covered."

Effy regarded me with her cool gaze, appraising my poker face as best she could, finally she tilted her head and smiled.

"Well as long as you're both ok with it, I'll leave it to you. Just so you know I did have a word with her yesterday, and we're going out next week when we're both home. She was _very_ interested in the idea of a bit of publicity; does Emily know she's thinking of starting her own business?"

"I've no idea," I said blinking, "she's not mentioned it if she does; but then Katie doesn't often come up in conversation between us you know?"

"You two converse?" she replied with a knowing smirk, "is that what you do that in between the bouts of all night shagging."

"Fuck off," I said meaningfully, that part of my relationship not being something I was prepared to discuss with Effy.

"Aw Naomi, we're supposed to be _friends_, friends share everything, I'll tell you all about my love life if you want."

"I'd rather you didn't," I said shuddering, "that _is_ my boss you'd be talking about."

"Whatever, you'll probably hear all about it from him soon enough, he likes you Naomi; he likes you a lot. Anyway, just be careful with Katie ok? That's all I wanted to say; she's playing a game right now, but you never know what might happen in the future."

With her warning floating between us, she sauntered away; her plate still practically empty. I looked down at my own and placed it on the side, my appetite now gone. I made a little note to double check with Ems about her sister and her career plans, but as subtly as I could. I didn't want to be a gossip, and I didn't want to embarrass Emily if I knew something she didn't.

When I looked back at the table I saw Jenna gesturing towards me and I walked over and squatted down next to her, sandwiched between my favourite two Fitch's.

"Would you mind if I treated you two to lunch today, at this club of James' Naomi?" She asked as Rob looked on, "Emily thinks she'll be able to get me in as a guest."

I shrugged in reply, "That sounds good to me with me Mrs Fitch, are you planning on getting your eye in afterwards, practice a bit of shooting with us? I can see if James would book the corporate suite again."

Jenna's eyes lit up at the same time that Emily sighed next to me, probably realising she might be left a little out in the cold.

"That would just fantastic Naomi dear, thank you."

"Yeah, thanks Naomi, thanks a bunch," she said shoving me over playfully. "You had to create a monster didn't you, I'll just sit in the corner on my own while you lot play soldiers."

"I'm sure I can teach you to shoot as well if you'd like Miss Fitch," I said knowing full well what her answer would be.

"I really don't think so Naomi," she said dismissively, "I think _my_ expertise is in selling the damn things, I'll leave the use to people like you and mum."

"Besides," she whispered leaning down towards me out of her fathers earshot, "no offence, but I think I'd rather snog James than fire a weapon."

"I'm sure I could arrange that too," I said with a smile, getting a disgusted face from my girl; "if that's what you really want."

"Really Naomi…no need."

I looked across at Cook who was chewing happily, nodding away at something Effy was telling him. On reflection, she was probably right.

o+o+o

The morning dragged by, Arms Expo 2010 was all but over and all that was left was the few last minute meetings, the odd demonstration and the taking down of the stands. Pretty soon this arena would be back to the empty hangar it once was and the mass of people would be gone.

As far as I was concerned it couldn't come a moment sooner; I'd pretty much hated every moment of it from start to finish. I was annoyed by the massive amounts of wealth on show, it seemed that every person here had a fancy suit, or a tailored uniform or bling that would keep Rob Fitch in tooth whitener for at least a year. By the time lunchtime had arrived, I was glad to see the banners and hoardings, that made up the outside of the Fitch Industries stand, packed away into their shiny silver boxes ready to be taken away.

"All over Miss Fitch?" I asked as Ems stood with her arms folded, watching as the oversized hulk that was last of her meetings walked away.

"All over Miss Campbell," she replied, "that's the last one done; another potential deal for Katie to latch onto and claim the credit for."

"If she's still around to do so," I said simply, waiting to see her reaction to my 'innocent' slip.

"Oh?" she said turning and grabbing me by the arm, leading me away to the privacy of her 'office'. "What have you heard Naomi Campbell? C'mon, spill."

"Only something Effy told me," I said, realising that she _didn't_ know about her sister at all. "It's probably nothing, but Effy says Katiekins is thinking of going out on her own, setting up her own business."

"Oh for fucks sake," she said sighing and shaking her head. "Here we go again, another failed attempt at making daddy proud."

I tilted my head and raised an eyebrow at her questioningly, hoping that she'd continue.

"She does this every now and again, gets this big idea in her head that she can break away and do her own thing. Last time it was PR, time before it was events management. Truth is she's too flighty to stick to it and eventually she comes running back home and daddy takes her in again."

"Seen it all before then?" I asked and she grinned and pressed herself against me.

"Just a few times babes, just a few times; I won't hold my breath let's put it that way."

I breathed a little easier after sharing that potential bombshell, if Emily wasn't bothered then I decided that I wouldn't be either; I had enough on my plate without worrying about Katie Fitch-Brace. Emily's successful convention was now my headache, there were now people to research, and trips to plan the security for; the next couple of months were going to be pretty fucking busy.

"Nothing to worry about then?" I asked, just to make sure.

"I very much doubt it, just business as usual babe; told you, she gets like this every few months or so." She grabbed me by the lapels of my suit and pulled me towards her. "Now enough talking about my sister Miss Campbell, I'm starting to feel neglected; I think you should give me a kiss, right now."

"Don't you think we're a bit exposed here Ems," I said as she leaned up on her tiptoes towards me. To my relief and disappointment she dropped down onto her heels with a frown.

"You're probably right babe," she said ruefully, "but you owe me a kiss Miss Campbell and a Fitch always collects their debts you know."

"I have no doubt of that, "I said with a smile as I straightened my jacket. "So Miss Fitch, what's the plan for the rest of the day?"

"Well, I need to finalise a few things here then I guess it's lunch. Mum's around here somewhere, I told her to meet us here at twelve and we'd head over together so you can play teacher again."

"Are you ok with this Ems?" I asked looking at her carefully. That was the second comment that she'd made about my invitation to Jenna; and years of being with Amy had taught me never to ignore a warning like that, Amy had been the master of the snide remark.

"I'm fine with it love, as long as you don't forget I exist. I was looking forward to spending some time together now this is all over, bit of a holiday you know? I think we deserve it."

"I thought we were flying straight back tomorrow," I said slightly confused as to the change in our itinerary.

Emily smiled and shook her head, "Mum's going to meet up with Colin in New York tomorrow, Dad and Katie are probably already on that plane and this event is over. I fancy a day off tomorrow before flying back Sunday; especially if we're going out tonight…we might need some time to get over the hangover; I get the feeling that James and Effy know how to drink."

"Speak for yourself," I replied smugly; not for the first time happy I'd given up drinking.

"Sure I can't tempt you?" Emily asked, her best 'puppy-dog' eyes boring into mine.

"I'm sure you can," I said winking at her, "but I'm _still_ not drinking. Some of us are still technically on duty."

"Oh Naomi, can't you relax for just one evening? Even you said that there's almost no danger over here."

"Of course I can, but I really don't want to drink Ems, I gave it up and I really don't miss it."

"Well, at least it means you can carry me home then."

"It will be my pleasure to put you over my shoulder if necessary Miss Fitch," I told her with a smile. "All part of the service."

o+o+o

I really enjoyed the afternoon session with Cook and Jenna, partly because we were in the private suite at the end of the club but mainly because Emily and I were under strict instructions from both Cook and Jenna to be 'ourselves'.

After a rather good lunch, Emily and I gave Cook the low down on the 'Intervention' and handed him the magazines so he could try it out. He had a real glint in his eye as he handled the sleek, black rifle, setting it up and aiming at a target at the far end of the range. To my surprise Jenna was fascinated by the technology as well, squatting down next to Cook and replacing me as his spotter; her eyes glued to the fancy binoculars, calling out the hits until he convinced her to swap places and give it a try herself.

"They look like they're having fun," Emily said, as we sat cuddled on one of the sofas that sat beside the private bar at the back of the suite watching my boss teach her mum how to shoot the massive .416 round.

"Mmmm," I hummed as she ran her fingers down the arm I had wrapped around her chest as she lay back onto me; her perfectly manicured nails scraping softly over my skin.

"You sound tired Nomi, you ok?" Emily said, continuing her stroking of my arm."

"I'm fine Ems," I replied, shifting my shoulders to make myself more comfortable and closing my eyes. "Just feeling quite full after lunch and a bit sleepy; enjoying the moment you know? It's nice to get a chance to completely relax."

"Good," she said softly, those nails never ceasing their soothing caress; "you deserve to relax babe, you've seemed pretty stressed this week."

"You think?" I murmured happily, "what makes you say that."

"You talk in your sleep sweetheart, just a bit anyway."

"I do?" I asked yawning, feeling the effects of a full stomach coupled with a late night and an early start sweeping over me; "what do I say?"

"Nothing bad Nomi," I heard her murmur as she lifted my arm and kissed my palm. "Nothing bad at all."

"Well as long as it's nothing that'll get me into trouble," I murmured as I began to doze off, "or those fucking nightmares."

"It's nothing bad love," I heard her whisper again, "and as for the rest, well we'll just take them as they come."

I woke up, once again, to the sound of voices, my brain instantly switching on as it assimilated my surroundings. Emily, hadn't moved, I could feel her rhythmic breathing against my chest as she snored away, obviously having fallen asleep herself. There was no sound of shooting, but there was a familiar voice added to the ones of Jenna and Cook.

"Afternoon Naomi, nice of you to join us."

"Afternoon Effy, I could say the same thing," I said softly, opening my eyes fully and looking at the three of them, sat around the small bar area with drinks in front of them looking very relaxed.

"Finished playing boss?"

"Ran out of ammunition blondie," Cook said waving his glass towards Jenna. "Someone's got an itchy trigger finger thanks to you."

I smiled across at Jenna, who was looking affronted at Cook's allegation. "I'd not true Naomi dear I assure you. But it was great fun, I was surprised you could sleep through the racket though; Emily thought it was funny."

"Emily thought what was funny mum?" The girl in my arms said, stirring from her snooze.

"Naomi sleeping through James and I shooting dear," Jenna said smiling indulgently at her daughter as she stirred

"Oh, that. Yeah, that was funny."

"I see you managed to join in the sleepathon though Emily," Effy said to her. "Neither of you even woke up when I arrived, not getting a lot of sleep at the moment?"

"No, not really" Emily said yawning. "Been a bit stressed this week; you know, with the Expo and all?"

"Are you sure it's not Naomi keeping you awake Emily dear," Jenna said with a smile. "With those nightmares of hers I mean," she added at Emily's spluttering.

Emily swore at them playfully as the three of them laughed at us; her mother laughing the hardest at her words. I leaned my head down to hers and placed a kiss on her hair, pulling her into me with my arm as I did so. No sooner did my lips touch those glowing locks, than her nails dug into my arm and she leaned backwards, her eyes staring up at me wide and soft.

"Sleep well?" She asked, her red lips moving slowly as she spoke, ignoring the others.

"Like a log, you?"

"Yeah, great, once Jenna 'Deadeye' Fitch over there stopped making a racket. I really don't know how you managed to nod off."

"Practice Ems," I told her thinking back to the snatched hours of sleep on tour; I'd learned to ignore the sounds of warfare after a few weeks; if you didn't you didn't get much sleep. Even when you weren't under attack, there was the endless, constant, racket of troops moving, vehicles passing and the sounds of a camp on twenty four hour alert.

In fact one of the hardest things I'd had to learn how to do, whenever I came home, was sleep; lying in a soft bed with the sound of heating pipes and Amy breathing just wasn't the same, the peace was, in it's own strange way, disturbing after all of that. Sleeping was hard enough when you came home, even without the nightmares.

"Naomi?"

"Yes?" I replied to the soft questioning, frowning at the hint of concern I'd heard in that voice.

"You went away for a second there, still with me?"

"Still with you Ems, just thinking that's all."

Emily nodded and smiled at me, shuffling her shoulders again and leaning her head to one side watching the conversations that were going on around us, her fingers wrapped, as I habitually found them when we were relaxing like this, tightly around mine. We sat like that for a bit longer before our little comfort zone was burst by Jenna Fitch, downing her drink and getting to her feet.

"Girls, James has told me all about that fancy gun you used in the winning round. I'm desperate to have a try, Naomi dear, would you be a love and teach me how to use it?"

"Of course," I said giving Emily a gentle nudge with my shoulder to ask her to move. "You mind Ems?"

"Not really," she said sighing dramatically and standing up, "I'm used to it now."

I smiled as she hauled me to my feet and went to follow Jenna out into the shooting area where my kit was waiting for us. As I stepped past Emily I was hauled back unceremoniously.

"Before you vanish on me for the rest of the afternoon Naomi Campbell," she said imperiously, "I believe there's something you owe me and I intend to collect."

"What now?" I asked as she wrapped her arms sinuously around my neck and stood on her tiptoes to look straight into my eyes.

"Yes Naomi, now," she replied and before I could respond she kissed me, not a chaste kiss either, not an affectionate peck on the lips to say good bye; but a full on kiss, one that actually completed the cliché and made my knees go weak. She kissed me as passionately as she had on our first visit to the range, but this time we were not alone. We had arrived at Cook's little gun club last week with a relationship that was tenuous, uncertain and secret. We were leaving as a couple, a couple in love and not ashamed of it. Scared of it yes, well I certainly was; but I wasn't ashamed of it, not amongst our friends at least.

When finally she released me, when finally our lips parted it was a cheeky grin I saw painted all over her face, presumably at my look of bemused shock. With that one look I knew in an instant that she'd done it deliberately, the whole event was done deliberately in fact. From being told to act 'normally' by Jenna and James, to the curling up on the sofa, right the way up to that kiss; Emily had cleverly stage managed everything.

She'd planned her attack on my 'public' defences, she'd marshalled her forces and when the moment was right she'd began her infiltration. Our 'orders' had distracted my sentries, under the cover of 'cuddling' she'd snuck her troops into my camp and with one kiss she had stuck her flag in the soil and claimed me as her own. She'd already captured my heart in private, now she'd done it publicly as well. Along with the fear I had for how much she could mess me up, there was a sense of pride as well; tactically she was a genius, and she had played me at my own game and beaten me fair and square.

"Better," she said smugly; "now go and play before I change my mind." She pinched her lips stifling a smile at her teasing before leaning back up and kissing me again, this time the chaste peck I had been expecting originally. "Love you."

"Um, yeah," I said still a bit shocked by the kiss and the realisation of just how sneaky my little Emily could be; "love you too."

"Aw, sweet," Effy said as we broke apart, the playful, teasing, lilt back in her voice. "Are you not going to go along and watch Emily? I know how much you like to watch Naomi shoot."

"I _love_ watching Naomi shoot," Emily replied unfazed by Effy's banter, "I mean, you've seen her, it's as hot as hell watching my girl be so downright competent, so focused, so…"

"…bouncy?" Effy interrupted with a smile, and to my shock Emily went bright, _bright_ red.

"What's this?" I asked Effy, seeing an opportunity to level the playing field between me and Emily. "I'm bouncy am I?"

"Oh yes Naomi, didn't you know?" Effy said laughing at Emily who looked like she was ready to chew her way through the floor and out of the building. "When you shoot that rifle of yours all sorts of things, well, bounce. I'm really surprised Emily hasn't told you."

"Is that true Ems?" I asked faking seriousness despite wanting to snigger along with everyone else, "do I bounce? Is _that_ why you like watching me shoot?"

"No," she said firmly to my raised eyebrow, "not at all…well maybe a little bit." I continued to look at her seriously before finally her lips cracked into an embarrassed grin.

"…well I can't say it isn't easy on the eye babes," she continued, staring at the floor, "but it's not the only reason honest…"

She looked back up at me, her brown eyes twinkling, "I told you, I much prefer that Sergeant Naomi Campbell persona you pull on when you take charge. It's far, far sexier than any bouncing you may or may not do."

She pulled on my arm and dragged me out towards the range, straight past a laughing Cook. As she led me past a chuckling Jenna I was dragged in another direction and found myself wrapped up with Ems in a hug.

"I think I like my daughter in love," she said quietly, kissing Emily on the head. "it's been a long time since I've seen her this happy; thank you Naomi."

"Nothing to do with me Jenna," I said, flinching as she kissed me on the head as well.

"Bullshit," she said I think shocking us both, "who else is putting that smile on her face?"

"Mum fuck off," Emily said her cheeks flushing again, "stop embarrassing us or I'll ask Naomi not to teach you to shoot any more….and I won't let you come out with us tonight."

"I don't think you're going to be able to stop me Emily love," she said hugging us both once more. "and I'm sure James will look after me if you won't, isn't that right James."

"You're in charge Ma'am," James said, saluting smartly, if not correctly in my opinion, American salutes always looking sloppy to my over trained eye.

"See? Now come on Naomi, let's go and send some lead downrange, did I say that right James."

"Sounding good to me Jenna," Cook said with a thumbs up as Effy stepped up behind him and slipped her arms around his waist, "sounding real good to me."

"Well if you're all going to be like that," Ems said quite obviously faking a huff and stamping her foot, affecting her Katie-like lisp; "then I'm going to sit in the corner by myself, it might be nice to spend some time by myself, without you all conspiring against me."

"Oh don't be like that Emily," Jenna chided playfully, "you don't want to sit in the corner by yourself."

"and why not?" Emily said folding her arms crossly, the playful glint in her eyes belying her action.

"Well, firstly Emily dear I know you're not really offended, you're just pretending to be your sister and you've _never_ managed to pull off her whining very well," Jenna said primly, "and secondly, if you sit all the way over there, by yourself, you won't get to see Naomi here bounce for what might be the very last time…"

"Those are very good points mum," she said looking at me and licking her lips. "Very good points indeed."

o+o+o

"Nomi, have you seen my straighteners?" Emily called from the bathroom of what had become 'our' room, breaking me out of the lull I was in, listening to the hotel radio .

"No!" I shouted back, wondering why on earth she would want straighteners, the natural bounce to her hair being one of her best features.

"Can you have a look in my bag for me please?" she called and, sighing, I got off the bed and headed into her room to root though her bags.

"Not there," I called as I walked back into the room.

"Fuck," came the aggrieved reply, "what the fuck have I done with them then?"

"Here," I said as I choked back as gulp as I walked into the bathroom to see her perfectly made up, pulling a brush through her curls in nothing but the tightest pair of black knickers I think I've ever seen. I dragged my eyes away from the shiny material that cocooned those perfect buttocks and held out the box I'd spotted for some reason resting on my nightstand.

"Oh thanks babe, put them over there for me please ," she said, those buttocks wiggling in front of me as she jigged to the music that was playing; the pencil thin light and dark silk stripes hypnotic as the light reflected off them.

"Like what you see?" she said, and I looked up to see her smiling at me in the mirror, the movements now revealing themselves to be, like her, not so innocent.

"Certainly do," I said walking up to her and running my fingers through that long red hair. "I love your hair like this, you know? Why on earth do you want to straighten it?"

"I don't," she said unzipping the pouch and pulling out parts, clipping them together like a squaddie reassembling a rifle after a field strip. "This one has a heat brush and some curling heads so I can do this properly; just the way you like it," she said buffing her hair with her free hand.

"Good," I replied kissing her forehead and walking away, practically having to force myself to do so.

"Naomi," she called after me, as I stepped over to the toilet and sat down on the seat. "You look fabulous tonight."

"Thanks," I said the plain black outfit I'd picked out not being anything special at all. "You look pretty good yourself right now."

"Cheeky," she said turning around and leaning over the counter giving me another perfect view of her arse. "Rather than sit there and wait for me, why don't you go and find Cook or something, I won't be much longer."

"Against the rules Miss Fitch; it's my duty to stay right here and make sure you are safe and well…"

"…and it has absolutely nothing to do with wanting to have a perv at me getting ready I suppose?" she interrupted as she shook out her hair and ran the hot brush through it.

"Well, one must have some perks in a tough job like mine Miss Fitch," I told her grinning away.

"Go away Nomi, let me finish getting ready so we can get out of here."

"What, and miss you bouncing like that Ems? Not a chance!"

"Nomi?" she said spinning around and pouting; brandishing her brush like a bayonet, "get out before you make me cross."

"Yes Ma'am," I said standing and saluting smartly, "anything you say Ma'am."

"You know," she said a smile, "it's just as well I love you, otherwise I might just have to…"

"…beat me?" I butted in before she could finish her thought. "why Miss Fitch, I had no idea you were that kinky."

"Go babe!" She said laughing and throwing a hand towel at me. "Go now before I _do_ try to beat you."

I spent the next few minutes, finishing getting ready to go out, bumbling around the suite in the stupidly high heels Emily had insisted I wear. While she was banging drawers in the bedroom, her hair preparations presumably complete, I poured us a couple of drinks from the mini-bar; almost dropping them when I carried them back into the bedroom.

"Ooo thanks," Ems said snatching the glass of wine off me as I took a few moments to take her in. She looked stunning, a figure hugging black silk dress in exactly the same striped pattern as her underwear, and platform heels that made her almost, but not quite, the same height as me in mine.

"Zip me up?" she asked as I stared, taking a long sip of her drink and turning around; showing me her bare back through the open dress.

Carefully, scared that my ham fists might rip the dress, I eased the concealed zip up her spine, casually allowing my finger to run over the vertebrae as I did so; I could feel her shiver as it ran up her spine. As I ran my hands back down the back of the dress, brushing down the concealing flap, Emily practically purred at my touch, putting her drink down and reaching back to stroke my waist.

"Feels good baby," she said as I allowed my hands to roam over that beautiful material, loving the feel of hers wandering over me in return. "Do you like the outfit?"

"Er….bibble!" I said spinning her around and pulling her to me. "Does that explain it?"

"Bit like how I feel when I see you in that fancy swimsuit of yours then," she said kissing me softly. "You ready for this?"

"More than ready Em, looking forward to it actually, we haven't really been out together for what feels like ages."

"Yeah, it'll be great," she said kissing me again and staring into my eyes, her platforms giving her a real advantage now. "Look Nomi, would you mind if I had a few drinks tonight? I really feel like having a good time."

"Why would I mind?" I asked seriously.

"Well you're not drinking and I didn't think it would be fair, but after this week I really want to get pissed and be silly you know?"

"Have I ever stopped you drinking hun?" I asked her, "personally or professionally."

"No," she admitted, "but I thought I'd ask anyway, it's only polite after all."

"You have as much to drink as you want love," I told her with a nod. "I'll be sober so I'll make sure you get home and into bed safely."

I ran my hands down her body and over those perfectly sculpted buttocks, the double layer of smooth silk feeling fantastic as my fingers traced their shape. "Like I say Ems, one must have some perks in a tough job like mine; shall we?"

"Why not?" she said happily grabbing her wine and downing it in one, "let's go paint the town red."

o+o+o

As evenings go it was pretty much perfect, I was out with people I liked and a woman I loved and there was nothing that I needed to worry about for what felt like the first time in my life.

I was even enjoying being sober, despite watching the people around me drink; Jenna seemingly caught in an unofficial drinking contest with Cook.

We started out with a few drinks in the restaurant while we waited for our table, bottles of wine and a pitcher of beer competing with my glass of diet coke on the table. The conversation was light hearted and mostly concentrated about Effy's new acting role, a small but prominent part in a British crime drama.

"It's nothing much right now," she said casually, "but the character does have the possibility of evolving, depends on how well I do, and what the focus groups say about the character."

"You're going to be great darlin'," Cook said proudly, "this is the big break you've been waiting for, that chance to show people that you're more than bit parts and modelling."

I added my congratulations to the pile that Effy was collecting, I really had no idea what they were talking about, but I was pleased that Effy was happy. I wanted to ask what would happen with her fancy new role when she started to show the signs of her pregnancy; but she looked so pleased with herself I decided to be sensible and kept my gob shut.

As Jenna matched James drink for drink, we were finally taken through to the dining room and seated at our table; menu's handed out and recommendations made. I have to admit Effy was right, it was a fabulous restaurant, the food was as good as I'd eaten anywhere, including Fitch Manor and it was made better with the company, and the affectionate touches my girl kept giving me between courses.

After the meal was over and paid for, Cook only flinching slightly at the price as he handed over his platinum card to pay off our bet, we discussed the plans for the evening.

"I don't really want to go clubbing," Emily said as various options were thrown out, "I'd rather go to a nice bar or something, you know where we can have cocktails and chat."

"I'd like to go to a _real_ bar," Jenna announced, possibly more loudly than she'd intended; the alcohol affecting her volume control as well as the broadness of her Scottish accent. "A real _American _bar, with crap beer and booths and a jukebox and things like that."

"That sounds fun too," Emily replied grinning at her mother. "Naomi?"

"Sounds good to me," I replied, not in the slightest bit arsed where we went.

"Well if that's what we want I happen to know the perfect place," James said stepping out of the door and waving down a cab.

Twenty minutes later we were in a 'picture book' American bar, wood on the walls along with autographed pictures of sports star, memorabilia and neon beer signs. It was one of those places that had quite obviously been 'designed' to cater for the tourist market, for people looking for fucking 'Cheers' or something. For all it's attempts at authenticity it was lacking a little soul, but it was clean and smart and Jenna seemed to love it, despite the fact that it was quite busy.

"Wouldn't come here myself blondie," Cook said quietly as we slid into the corner booth, "but it seemed the sort of thing Jenna wanted."

"Seems it boss," I said smiling as a slightly drunk Jenna Fitch tried to lift a baseball glove off the wall.

"No boss," he said, his drunkenness starting to show as well. "No boss tonight or ever Naomikins, you're a friend, never just an employee."

He clapped an arm around my bare shoulders, his hand making a loud slap as he pulled me tightly towards him.

"If you tell me you love me James Cook, I said as he opened his mouth to speak, "I'll be very cross."

I got an amused smirk from his fiancée as confusion passed over his face. "Don't get you Naomikins," he said looking at the rest of the table who were laughing at him.

"It's an English thing James," Effy said still laughing at his face; "I'll explain it to you later."

The night progressed, the people around me getting more and more drunk, well everyone except Effy, like me she was abstaining from alcohol; well apart from a glass of wine at dinner, it at least gave me someone to talk with while the other rambled.

To my amusement Jenna got very enthusiastic over the bars jukebox and pumped coins into it, playing tracks old and new. Emily joined her in flicking through the records before selecting one and waving me over.

"I picked us a tune Nomi," she said her eyes starting to get that glazed and unfocused look that just screams 'I've had to many mojito's', "a tune just for _us_."

"Oh?" I asked grinning at how pleased she sounded, like a child that had just brought home their first picture from school.

"Yeah, now you _have_ to dance with me," she said tossing down her drink and placing her hands around my neck and swaying along as the first bars of her selection played over the speakers. A familiar tune, one I knew well.

"I don't care if Mondays blue," Emily slurred staring into my eyes, "Tuesdays grey and Wednesdays too, Thursday I don't care about you, because _Friday I'm in love!_"

She continued to sing the rest of the lyrics, hammering out the last line of the song before pulling me into a kiss; getting a few disgusted looks from some of the bars patrons, and a few interested looks from others. I had to admit the sentiment was as cheesy as all hell, but it did make me smile.

More drinks and more singing later Effy and I managed to pour the drunken rabble into a couple of taxi's and make our way back to the hotel. To my embarrassment I discovered that a drunken Emily is also a very affectionate Emily, almost indecently so; especially with her mother sat next to her in the back as Emily practically tried to peel my clothes off. I was only glad that Cook and Effy were following us in their own taxi, there not being enough room in the ones we'd hailed for the five of us, and that Jenna was practically passed out.

"Ems hun, will you please behave," I admonished her as she slipped a hand a little too far up my leg once more.

"Don't want to," she said struggling against my grip and pressing her lips to my neck, "I want to do anything _but_ behave."

"Your mum is right there love," I reminded her, causing her to jump and look around as if she'd forgotten; I quickly took the opportunity to wrap her up in my arms and continue, "…and the cabbie is going to crash soon if he doesn't start concentrating on the road and stop looking back at us."

Happily Emily took the hint, relaxing in my arms; seemingly content to just be held by me; even more happily so did the cabbie and we progressed in a slightly safer manner. Interestingly, it wasn't long later, as my hand idly toyed with her hair, that I heard gentle snores coming from her as she fell into a drunken doze; her mother making similar noises from the other side of me. It was with some relief that ten minutes later we pulled up at our hotel and I my first task was manhandling the comatose Jenna Fitch out of the car.

"Is she all right Naomi?" Effy asked appearing next to me, Cook stood next to her swaying slightly.

"She's fine, just a bit worse for drink," I replied as I sat her on a bench and went to get a sleeping Emily from the back of the cab, "Keep an eye on her for me would you?"

I paid the fare and lifted Emily out of the cab, cradling her in my arms carefully as I carried her into reception. To my surprise Cook was stood, leaning on a wheelchair that contained a still sleeping Jenna Fitch.

"Effy's idea," he slurred, she's gone to find out what room she's in."

"..and she can't find a fucking soul that can help her," Effy said appearing behind me, "the night porter is fucking useless!"

"It's ok," I said, hefting Emily slightly causing her to open her eyes and look at me, "I'll take her up to our suite."

"Everything ok Nomi?" Emily asked sleepily, resting her head on my shoulder. I didn't reply, there wasn't any need. I did, however, scowl at Effy who was looking at me delightedly.

"Nomi?" she said with a chuckle, "I really don't see you with a pet name _Sergeant_ Campbell."

"What pet name?" I asked scornfully, "she's just drunk, you know, slurring her words. Shouldn't you be getting him to bed?" I added, trying to change the subject.

"No need Naomikins, the Cookiemonster is still functioning." Cook slurred, trying and failing to sketch me a salute

"Barely," Effy added with a laugh, "I think it's safer if he pushes the wheelchair though."

With a barely functioning Cook and a still comatose Jenna trailing behind, I carried Emily through the hotel, negotiating steps and lifts until we got to the door to our suite.

"Keycards in my bag Eff," I said, swinging around so she could rummage around more easily, finally emerging triumphantly with the card.

"You need a hand with these two?" she said as she opened the door.

"Nah," I replied nodding at Cook who was leaning against the wall fast asleep. "Let me put this one down, and I'll pick Jenna up and put her to bed, I think you'll need the wheelchair to push Cook."

"Oh joy," she said, pushing the chair into our suite and into the unused room. I kicked open the door to our room and carefully laid the sleeping Emily onto the bed, pulling the throw over her before I went to see to Jenna.

"You going to be ok with Cook?" I asked Effy after I pulled the covers over Jenna's snoring frame.

"I'll be fine," she said grinning, "give me a hand dropping him into this and worse comes to worst I'll let him sleep in it, it'll teach him a lesson."

"Nice, must be love," I told her as she winked at me.

"Must be, better bloody had be anyway," she said placing her hand on her stomach meaningfully.

"You looking forward to being a mum?" I said as we walked into the hallway and I gave Cook a shove to get him into the chair that Effy had wheeled in behind him.

"You know," she said as she turned the chair and began to push Cook down the corridor; "I really think I am, can't wait for them to run around with those baby Campbell's you and Emily are going to have."

"Bit premature," I joked as she walked away, "we've only just started this…"

"…relationship?" she said turning back to look at me, that knowing smirk on her lips.

"Relationship," I said nodding, saying the word that had scared me all my adult life. "We've only just started this _relationship_."

"Whatever," she replied waving as she waked away, "you'll have lovely kids the two of you, I know it. Goodnight _Nomi_, see you at breakfast."

"Yeah, goodnight _Mrs Cook_," I said smiling as her wave turned into her flipping me the finger, "sleep well."

o+o+o

I did my usual check around the suite before heading into the bedroom, I couldn't help but smile as I saw Emily, all curled up, hugging the throw I'd covered her with. Gently I drew back the covers on her side of the bed, and rolled her over onto the white sheet. With a practiced touch I unzipped the expensive dress and peeled it from her tiny frame. As she muttered incoherently in her drunken stupor, I kissed her forehead and headed into the bathroom to clean off my makeup and scrub my teeth.

Feeling cleaner, I walked out into the bedroom to find Emily stretched out, her arm leaning across my side of the bed. Smiling I hung up Emily's dress and slipped off my own, placing them in the wardrobe to be sorted out later, before nudging her gently getting her to roll over so I could climb in.

"Nomi?" she said still practically asleep as I pulled the covers over us both, snuggling in behind her. I kissed her softly on the shoulder in reply.

"I love you," she told me, her voice slurring as drunkenness and tiredness got the better of her once more. "I love that you're so protective, and I love it when you smile…I love making you smile Nomi, you're so pretty when you really smile. I love everything about you, I really fucking do."

"I love everything about you too Ems," I replied smiling at her drunken sincerity, "now do me a favour and go to sleep."

"Yeah, sleep sounds good. Goodnight Nomi, sweet dreams."

"Goodnight Ems," I said kissing her shoulder once more and turning off the light. "Sleep well."

.

.

.

**Authors Note **– S is doing even better folks, please keep up those good thoughts…one day I hope she'll be able to thank you all herself.

Do you want another cliffhanger/tease for next week, nah, that would be cruel and I don't want your minds wandering too far from the story now would I?

Can't believe I'm so far ahead, I'm normally writing these chapters right on the deadline – perhaps I've been kidnapped and replaced with someone organised.

Just a warning BTW, there _may_ be a PfP chapter out this weekend as well (-:


	48. Goodbye Sunshine, Hello Rain

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness, a heavy case of writers block and a ex I could happily put in the Basement with Naomi right now!

I still nothing to do with Skins, (but then do we care about Skins any more? Well until that Gen 2 Movie appears anyway).

**Authors Note: **It's Wednesday; and, as I've just been reminded on Twitter, that means CP day. I'm on a writers holiday this week, avoiding work and trying to get some of the things that are in my head down onto my computer. So far it's been going quite badly, I seem to be finding a million other things to do.

A couple of quick shout outs. Hello to my new readers that took a moment to drop me their thoughts, much appreciated! A huge _**Happy Birthday**_ to my mate Kat for this coming Sunday, no longer a teenager and officially an old fart; and I know she won't read this yet, but a big birthday shout out to S too as I'm pretty sure it's her birthday on Monday. Apparently she managed to come around long enough to roll her eyes at her best mate this week...thank you all for those positive vibes; keep them coming, we're not out of the woods yet!

Has it really been a year since I wrote Ch9 - London Calling? Scary thought!

As always, I hope you enjoy.

**Chapter 48 – Goodbye Sunshine, Hello Rain**

I woke to the sound of running water and singing from the bathroom; my bleary eyes registering that the bed next to me was empty. With a yawn I rubbed my eyes and pulled back the covers; glancing at the clock as I swung my feet out of bed.

"Half-eight," I muttered to myself, half annoyed it was so late; half annoyed that I hadn't got up earlier, despite our two am bedtime. Feeling a lot stiff and achey I decided to do some stretching before heading for a shower. I'd been neglecting my exercise and I was feeling it now; they always say it's not the day after that the pain comes, but the morning after that…

How right they were.

I did my neck rolls, wincing slightly at the crunching sounds that were coming from my vertebrae, before stretching out my arms and finally bending over to touch my toes.

It was on my third stretch that I had the shock of my life, I had just straightened, rolled out my shoulders and bent forward again when someone slapped me on the arse, the sudden feeling of light pain and the sound of the slap hitting me almost simultaneously.

"Do that again and I'll put you over my knee and spank you Emily Fitch," I said straightening and rolling my shoulders again before bending over once more; ignoring the stinging in my cheek, challenging her to do it again.

"What if I'd like that?" she asked, sounding very perky for someone that was almost comatose last night.

"Then I'd have to tickle you instead," I said feeling her hand press on the raw skin.

"That wouldn't be nice Nomi."

"Neither is slapping my arse love," I replied simply, "that stung."

"Well it was too good an opportunity to resist."

As I straightened once more Emily wrapped her wet arms around me and pressed herself to my back. "Morning baby," she said kissing my tattoo; "how you feeling this morning?"

"Shouldn't I be asking you that? You're the one with the hangover."

"What hangover?" she asked laughing at me. "I don't _have_ a hangover."

"Really?" I asked, surprised, twisting in her arms so I could face her and look into her eyes. "Well that proves that there really isn't any justice in the world," I told her as I saw the usual bright twinkle in her beautiful eyes.

"What does, me not having a hangover?" she said burying her face in my chest, her nose twitching.

"Absolutely, you totally deserve a hangover after the amount you drank last night, beer, mojito's not to mention doing shots with Cook; and especially, "I said jabbing her playfully in the sides, "as I had to carry you to bed again."

"Well at least this time you put me to bed and then _joined_ me," she said biting me gently, reminding me of her cheeky complaint from the morning of our arrival. "So go on then, just how bad was I last night?"

"You don't remember climbing onto the pool table and singing along to 'Friday I'm in love'?"

"I did not climb on the pool table," she said stepping backwards her hands moving to my bare hips; "…did I?"

"No dear you didn't, but only because I stopped you. You _were_ belting that song out to me though…it was quite the serenade, made _quite_ an impact on the guys in the bar."

"Oh Jesus, what I that embarrassing?" she said flushing attractively, the blush reaching right the way down to her chest. "You can't take me anywhere can you, I'm so sorry Nomi, I didn't intend to be a total twat."

"It's ok hun," I told her pulling her back into me and kissing her wet hair, "you said you wanted to let your hair down and you did, nothing wrong with that. Besides, I've seen a lot worse; I saw Whitey attempt a striptease in a bar once…trust me a bit of drunken singing is a nothing compared to that."

"Well as long as you're not pissed off with me," she said looking up at me with her puppy-dog eyes.

"Nah, just disappointed you weren't actually awake when I peeled that outfit off you, it had been giving me bad thoughts all evening."

"Sorry lover," she said looking down and pushing out her bottom lip. "That's one I owe you then, I promise I'll make it up to you real soon."

"I'll hold you to that Emily Fitch," I said lifting her chin with my finger. "Especially as I had to put mother _and_ daughter to bed last night."

"What?" she said shocked, "where is she, is she all right?"

"She's fine," I reassured her with a grin. "She's in your room; she kind of passed out last night, Effy got Cook to wheel her to bed."

"Wheel her?"

"Yeah, wheel her," I explained. "Effy nicked a wheelchair from somewhere in reception, don't ask me how…" I said quickly as Emily made to interrupt, "…she's probably the sort of girl that acquires traffic cones on nights out too. Anyway, she got that, and Cook pushed your mum while I carried you. Once I'd put you down, I put her to bed in your room, she was snoring away when I left her."

"Fuck, she'll be mortified," Emily said looking horrified. "I'd better go and check on her."

She leaned up and kissed my cheek before letting go of me and heading for the door.

"I'll grab a quick shower then," I told her as she walked away. "Though Ems? As much as I like the view, I'd put a robe on before you wake your mum up if I were you."

One warm and refreshing shower later I was feeling less bleary and more awake, I completed the ritual by turning the unit over to cold and blasting my skin with icy cold water. Teeth chattering I got out of the cubicle and towelled myself dry, slipping on the white cotton robe that was hanging on the back of the door.

There was no sign of Emily when I walked out of the steamy bathroom, but I could hear signs of life out in the main room, conversations that were muffled through the heavy door. Wrapping the robe tightly around myself I walked out into the room to see Emily bustling about and a dishevelled looking Jenna sat slumped on the sofa, the make up from last night smeared and plastered to her face.

"Morning Jenna, how's the head this morning?" I asked as she looked up to greet me.

"Don't ask Naomi, really…I'm not used to this kind of thing, I don't usually drink a lot…tell me, how much _did_ I drink last night?"

"I have no idea," I told her smirking at Emily, "you seemed to be trying to keep up with Cook at first, then you got drinking with Emily there. Unfortunately she appears to have recovered better than you."

"She has an annoyingly fast metabolism," Jenna said holding her head in her hands and groaning as Emily bounced around the suite making drinks, looking very pleased with herself. "Emily takes after her father in that way; I on the other hand do not…that's the reason I don't normally drink that much."

"I'm afraid I'm with you Jenna," I sympathised sitting down opposite her as she took a cup of coffee off Emily, sipping at it hungrily. "I used get _the_ most awful hangovers when I was drinking; and I _really_ don't miss those."

"Don't rub it in Naomi please, I really do think I'm going to die."

"Could be worse mum," Emily said happily, "I could have told you that _James_ had to put you to bed last night." Jenna looked thoughtful for a second before replying.

"Yes, I think that would have been _even_ more embarrassing," she groaned in return, "thank you for looking after me Naomi dear; Emily told me that you made sure I wasn't sleeping in a gutter somewhere. I owe you one."

"All part of the service," I replied glibly. "Least I could do given that you totalled your garden to give me a training range; and don't let Emily tease you, I had to carry her to bed last night as well."

"She didn't mention that, _did_ you Emily?" Jenna replied looking slightly less embarrassed at the thought of her daughter being a bit of a mess as well.

"Didn't think it was important mum," Emily said handing me a cup of tea, made just the way I like it. "Unlike _some _people," she added digging me with her elbow, thankfully after I'd put down my drink.

We chatted for a while, mother and daughter grilling me on their exploits of the night before; groaning and grinning in equal measure as I told them how the evening had gone down.

"I remember you singing Emily dear," Jenna said when we got around to her serenade. I also have a vague memory of you trying to kiss the life out of poor Naomi there."

"Was she complaining?"

"I don't believe she was dear," Jenna said smirking at me, "In fact I seem to remember her seeming quite enthusiastic about the whole thing."

"Well that's all right then," Emily said pushing her arm through mine and laying her head on my shoulder; tucking her feet under herself and leaning on me heavily. "I'll call it a good night all round then."

We chatted for another ten minutes or so, sipping at the drinks, before Jenna finally got up and straightened her crumpled clothes.

"Well this isn't getting me ready to leave to meet my gentleman-friend is it? I'll leave you girls to your day off. Emily, I'll call you before we fly home and we'll do that visit we talked about; unless you want to meet for lunch before you fly out? Colin is dying to meet the famous Naomi Campbell."

"He doesn't think that Naomi is…" Emily started to say before being cut off by her mothers grin.

"No dear, he knows exactly who Naomi is, but she _is_ famous; face all over the TV and the papers remember?"

"I remember mum," Emily said pouting, "I have a famous girlfriend, am I likely to forget that?"

"I wish you all would," I interjected before the conversation got out of hand. "Not exactly the highlight of the last couple of months that event."

"I'll never forget it," Emily said seriously squeezing my arm; "never!"

"Nor I Naomi," Jenna said getting up from the sofa. "You'll just have to deal with the fact that, to us, you'll always be famous. Now I think I'd better make use of the bathroom before I go and get showered, I've just seen what I look like in that mirror and 'psychotic clown' isn't my best look."

"You do look a bit like the joker mum," Emily chuckled as she walked away, "Heath Ledger's version that is."

"All the more reason for me to clean this off before I'm seen in public then," Jenna replied holding her head loftily as she opened the door to the bedroom. "I'll see you in a second girls."

"Another cup of tea Nomi?" Ems asked, tilting her head to look up at me.

"Not if it means you moving," I replied winking and leaning down to kiss her.

"You're a soppy shit really aren't you Nomi? You pretend to be this big callous bitch, but you're actually really nice."

"Only with you Ems," I told her, "only with you."

"Bullshit," she said smiling up at me, her eyes wide. "You're nice to my mum and my perverted fucking brother, you're totally loyal to the people around you and by the sounds of things you always have been."

"But.." I tried to say, not getting any further before…

"…and, since we've got together you've been the most perfect girlfriend I could ask for. You're patient and caring and…"

"and?" I asked, shaking my head at her praise.

"and you're really, really good in bed babes. I mean really good, like toe curlingly, heart stoppingly good."

"and _that's_ my cue to leave," I heard Jenna say as the bedroom door opened once more, her face slightly damp but clear of the makeup disaster. "There are some things a mother doesn't want to overhear first thing in the morning; or at any other time of the day in fact. Now come here and give me a hug the pair of you before I go."

I was dragged into another hug, reluctantly climbing off the sofa. Emily showed her mother to the door, sharing one more hug and a whispered conversation as they said their goodbyes.

"So, what's the plan for the day Ems," I said sitting back down onto the sofa as she closed the door, putting my hands behind my head casually. "I do believe we have a day off today, no meetings, no shooting, nothing to do at all."

"Nothing to do at all," she said, climbing onto me, straddling my legs her robe parting slightly, giving me a tantalising peek of bare flesh. "The day is ours to do with as we like."

"Are we going to go down to breakfast?" I asked as she leant forward, her lips invitingly close to mine. "See what happens after that?"

"I think we'll order room service babe," she said her voice low and dangerous, her eyes closed her lips tickling mine. "I've got something much better in mind to start our holiday that sitting in a room full of tourists."

"Really?" I asked, my tongue flicking out to wet my lips, touching hers as it did so.

"Really," she murmured, her hands slipping into my bathrobe pushing it apart as my own hands pulled at hers, dragging it from her shoulders. I heard her gasp as I pulled her to me, our bare flesh pressing together and she drew her arms around my neck.

"Take me to bed Naomi Campbell," she whispered, kissing me longingly. "Carry me to bed again and I promise you a better reward than last night for your troubles."

"Oh you do, do you?" I said, kissing her back; feeling my heart racing away in my chest as I pressed back in, silencing her reply. Reluctantly I rolled her off me, standing up from the sofa before bending down to pick her up; one arm under her back, one hooked in her knees. The cold white robe was discarded to the floor and it was nothing more that her warm bare flesh that pressed against mine as I carried her through to the bedroom, our lips still locked together.

Reverently I laid her on the bed, breaking our kiss momentarily to stand and drop my own robe to the floor. As I looked down at the redhead that was sprawling invitingly on the white cotton sheets she looked up at me with eyes full of lust and licked her lips suggestively.

"Get down here now Nomi," she ordered, her voice thick and low making my stomach flip with desire; "you're disturbingly far away from me."

"As you command Miss Fitch," I teased, climbing onto the bed and lowering myself on to her.

"Not this time Miss Campbell," Emily said twisting under me, flipping me over and straddling me, "this time it's as _you_ command."

o+o+o

I watched in amusement as Emily scoffed down the food that she'd ordered just before we hit the shower. It was like watching a human vacuum cleaner, she didn't seem to eat the food, more inhale it; but then I guess I could forgive her, after all we had just worked up quite the appetite.

"What?" she said, her voice muffled as she shovelled in a large butter croissant covered with jam; obviously I'd been staring for a moment or two too long.

"Nothing," I said diving hurriedly back into the omelette I'd ordered.

"No, come on what's so funny babe? You've been smirking at me for the last five minutes."

Busted! She'd obviously been paying more attention to me than I thought; I would have sworn an oath that she'd been so focussed on her food I could have snuck up and de-bagged her without her noticing or indeed caring. Not that she had anything on underneath that robe she was wearing though, just one more reason for me to be staring at her; and stare at her I did.

I actually liked looking at the diminutive red-head that had, despite all my attempts at resistance, wheedled her way into my life. I remembered, many years ago, looking at Amy strutting around that hotel pool, making sure that people noticed her; Emily was nothing like that, almost totally the opposite in fact. Emily made you look at her by being almost invisible. Where Amy was a show-off, and extrovert; Emily was comfortable in her own head, more or less and it came across in how they acted. They were both filled with their own insecurities and neuroses, but Emily was probably the most stable of the two; the least needy. Unlike Amy, Emily was affectionate without being clingy; and unlike Amy, Emily seemed more than happy to just let me be me.

That's not to say she hadn't tried to change me, but where Amy had tried to turn me into someone she wanted to be with, someone she could show off; Emily seemed content to just help me become a better version of me.

"Oi, stop ignoring me you," I heard Emily said as I was staring into her robe looking for the delights I knew lay inside, and I felt a soft impact as something hit me in the face. I blinked and looked down to see a piece of ripped off croissant on my plate; casually I reached down and picked it up, popping it into my mouth.

"I'm not ignoring you," I said pointedly craning my head to look into the open top of her robe. "I'm doing anything _but_ ignoring you.

"Fuck off," she said good naturedly, pulling her robe together tightly to block my view. "No more peeking for you Miss Campbell, not until you tell me what you're smiling at."

She scowled at me across the small table we were eating off, her eyes glinting with amusement.

"Miss Fitch you know what I'm amused by; and it's not like you've even got being nervous as an excuse."

"Oh shut up, I'm hungry…I need food to mop up all that alcohol you let me drink."

"_I_ let you drink?" I replied, pushing away my plate. "I did tell you that you should take it easy babe, but you wanted to do shots with Cook."

"I can't believe I did that," she said blushing adorably, "I'm not actually that bad you know. I just never really get the chance to do something like that you know?"

"What get drunk?" I asked winking at her. "At least you drunkenly kissing me wasn't a surprise this time."

"No, not that I do get drunk a lot as well you know," she said reaching over to prod my arm as she spoke. "I mean let my hair down with friends, it's usually all family meals, or works events or shit like that; I think that's the first time in years I've been able to just have a blow out with people _I_ want to be with."

"That's a shame Ems," I told her sadly, thinking of the times when I'd been out with the boys, or even with Amy, and just let go. I'd even managed to do it last night, though the lack of booze made it slightly less messy than usual.

"That's life Nomi, that's just how it is."

"You should do what you want to do hun," I told her munching on the last piece of my toast. "You shouldn't let things like that get in the way of you enjoying yourself."

"I'm so glad you think that way babe," she said brightening at my words; "because I know what I want us to do today, and we're really going to enjoy ourselves doing it."

"What's that?" I asked a sinking feeling in my stomach.

"We're going to do something very American, you and I are going to the nearest Mall and we're going to spend money, eat junk food and have a really good time."

"Oh Jesus," I groaned dramatically at her words, "not _more_ shopping Ems?"

"More shopping babe; and I'm going to treat you to something while we're there, so no complaining."

"Yes dear."

'_Bollocks.'_

o+o+o

I slumped back into the plush, business class, seat and closed my eyes. Next to me Emily was already dozing away, her head cushioned by the head rest. We were taking a late afternoon flight out of New York, so we could be back in London before midnight. We nearly didn't make our gate; after what was supposed to be a brief stopover to meet up for her mother and the infamous Colin for lunch turned into a longer event that expected.

Colin turned out to be a really nice guy, and his, and Jenna's, openness surprised me; he was also very comfortable with Emily and I got the impression that she liked him.

So lunch turned into lunch and drinks, and I was forced to almost drag her away so we could make our flight; even their farewells taking a worrying amount of time. We made it to our check in with about a minute to spare and, after the usual security palaver and the endless waiting around we had made it onto the plane and I could finally relax.

And boy did I need to relax.

o+o+o

Saturday's shopping trip had been hell; more than hell in fact. I have no idea how so many people can fit into one building and manage to stay sane, it felt like it was pushing me to my very limits of patience and tolerence. Emily, however, had gotten a little giddy at the thought of so many shops; looking about herself with excited eyes and acting like a little girl. Personally I didn't get the attraction, it was a shopping centre; you've seen one, you've seen them all. The only thing this one had over the other complexes I'd been to was it's sheer size…

…and the people…

…the lots of people…

…the lots and lots of really fucking annoying, loud, brash and ignorant people.

"I hate shopping, have I mentioned that?" I'd said grumpily as we walked hand in hand down one of the 'streets', weaving our way in and out of pushchairs, gangs of kids and people on their mobile phones who weren't looking where they were going at all.

"You may have mentioned it, two or three hundred times today babe yes," Emily had replied squeezing my fingers and ignoring my complaint. For some reason I'd become the pack horse for the expedition, bags slung over my shoulder. After replenishing her energy with lunch Emily had become a shopping whirlwind, heading in and out of the various shops like a forced entry team, seemingly knowing exactly what her objective was before she entered the doorway. I'd trailed along in her wake, half amused, half fed up; that had changed slightly when she spotted a store in the distance that piqued her interest.

"Cool, there's a VS here, we _have_ to go in there," she'd said excitedly tugging at my hand.

"A what?" I'd replied looking into the distance.

"Victoria's Secrets, duh," she'd replied frowning at my ignorance of her abbreviations, "even _you'll_ like this shop."

I had as well, watching Emily wandering around picking up various items that had my brain functioning with but two words, 'small' and 'lacy'. As she teased me all the way around the shop, I'd suddenly felt as if I was acting like one of the blokes that were in here with their partners; and started trying to pay attention to what she was actually saying about the various garments.

Disappointingly, from my point of view, this apparently wasn't the reaction Emily was looking for, and she soon shooed me away, insisting she wanted to _'pick up a few things to surprise me with'_. Reluctantly I'd let her be, making sure I kept that shock of red hair in my eyeline at all times just in case; by the time she'd met up with me again she had a bag tucked firmly under her arm and a cheeky grin on her face. I, however, had kept _my_ purchases hidden away in one of the other bags, well there was no point ruining a surprise was there?

I thought about what happened next as the drone of the engines lulled me into a light doze. I had a very good memory of our last night in that hotel, one that was pretty much burned into my mind. After we'd returned Emily had pretty much fallen asleep on the sofa and, after carrying her to bed for the third time in two days, I'd locked the door behind me and headed down to the pool.

The water was as good as ever as I forced my way through length after length. It was only a tiny pool, but it was still a refuge, somewhere to work away the stresses of yet another shopping trip. I guess it is one of those things, one of those sacrifices that you just have to make in a relationship. I had to admit that I preferred going shopping with Emily, to hanging around with the toffee-nosed snobs that Amy called 'our friends'. Relationships were often about doing things you didn't like doing, and as I swam, I wondered what it was that I did that Emily didn't enjoy.

With the comforting touch of the cool water I resolved to take the initiative when I got back to the room. I'd brought a couple of the items I'd bought earlier down with me and I planned to have a shower, and slip them on under my robe, just to give Ems a nice surprise when I woke her; my own payback for the mornings treat. When I'd got back to the room, however, feeling pretty damn sexy in the black corset that was squeezing me into what I thought was a pretty impressive shape and an even more impressive cleavage; Emily had beaten me to the punch.

"Naomi, is that you," she'd called out from the bedroom as I shut the door behind me. "Anyone with you?" she shouted as I confirmed that it was me.

"No, just me," I'd said my hand on the bedroom door, ready to walk in and slip off the robe, revealing the outfit I'd chosen just for her.

"Good, take a seat on the sofa, I've got something to show you."

Sighing, I sat down on the sofa, slipping off the black stiletto heels that I'd bought; hiding them away and tucking my legs underneath me, covering them with my robe just in case. I'd only just managed to hide myself away when the door opened and Emily strode in, looking as pleased as punch in a tiny little white two piece ensemble that left very little to the imagination.

"What do you think?" she asked, redundantly as she showed off some of that dancing prowess she had told me about, executing a dainty pirouette that made my mouth go dry.

"Nice," I'd managed to reply somehow, "very nice indeed."

"Good," she'd said with a prim smile, "wait there I'll go try the next one."

"Next," I'd spluttered wondering how I'd be able to cope, that outfit had made me want to slam her against a wall, let alone something else.

"Oh yes, I bought a few things babe and I want your opinion on all of them; sit back and relax, call it your very own catwalk show."

She hadn't been kidding either, for the next twenty minutes my ardour was aroused by outfit after outfit, blacks and whites and pinks. Some practical, some downright raunchy; I was treated to a vision of loveliness parading around, showing herself off for me. Finally I'd had more than enough, she walked out into the suite in a red bra and thong, a red that matched her hair almost exactly and looked stunning on her. I could tell, almost instantly that she'd worked out just how far she'd pushed me; the smile on her face bordering between pleased and smug as she'd winked at me and walked away, wiggling her arse invitingly behind her.

I'd made my decision right then and there, this time it was my turn. Uncurling myself from the sofa, I slipped my stockinged feet into the shiny black shoes and followed her into the bedroom. As I'd been expecting I found her lounging provocatively on the bed waiting for me, a look of pure mischief on her face. I'd removed that look with a shrug of the shoulders, dropping my robe to the floor. I'd taken a tip from Amy, framing myself in the doorway as I stepped out of the white cloth, placing a hand on the frame and adjusting the weight on my legs to change my shape to best effect. I'd spent a couple of minutes perfecting the pose in my cubicle in the pool, using the confined space and the full length mirror to check it for effect.

Judging my Emily's face I'd got it bang on, she looked shell shocked and I allowed myself my own little smug grin as a reward for a job well done.

"What do you think?" I'd asked her as she looking me up and down, her eyes tracking from the tip of my heel, up the sheer stockings, past the g-string and lingering on my tits, squeezed as they were by the corset.

"Come here and I'll tell you," she'd replied throatily, holding out her hand towards me.

"Not yet love," I'd replied with a smile, "you've not seen the back view yet." Carefully I turned around on those precipitous heels and I could feel Emily's eyes boring into me as the laces, string and seams came into view.

"Naomi, if you don't get here right now I won't be able to control myself," she'd murmured as I completed my turn, only nearly falling over the once.

"Well then, "I'd replied in my best, low and sultry voice leaning again on the doorframe; "that sounds like exactly the reaction I'd hoped for."

"Get here _now_ Miss Campbell," she'd ordered; her eyes filled with desire, her tongue darting across her lips, leaving a faint sheen of moisture where it had been.

"Patience Miss Fitch," I'd replied as I strutted across to her, suddenly feeling confident and powerful, that confidence making it's way into my movements. I pushed Emily down onto the bed once more and towered above her, running my hand across her stomach as I held her down, my little finger stretching out to trace the seam of that red lace thong.

"Remember what you said this morning?" I said, reaching down to run my finger underneath that enticing seam, "that means _I'm_ in charge."

o+o+o

"What you thinking of love?" Emily asked, as I opened my eyes from my light doze, never really achieving proper sleep; my new found fear of flying surfacing again the second we sat down.

"Yesterday," I admitted as she rested her head on my shoulder, "and not the shopping part."

"Well we did need the shopping for the post shopping entertainment babe, and I didn't hear you complaining while I was trying on my stuff."

"I was complaining inside Ems," I said truthfully, "that g-string was properly cutting in while I was sat on that sofa."

"I wish you'd said earlier babe, I would have helped you remove it sooner than I did; I hate to see you in pain."

"So thoughtful Ems, that's really noble of you," I teased as Ems pressed the service button above her head. "You really are the best girlfriend ever."

"Of course I am," she replied, before smiling at the stewardess and ordering drinks. "It's all going to change now though isn't it?" she added sadly as we were left alone again.

"What's going to change?" I asked easing my arm forward to take her hand, being careful not to disturb her head.

"This, us, everything," she replied cryptically, sighing into me.. "It's going to have to change isn't it? We're not on holiday any more."

"We haven't been on holiday Ems," I reminded her, resting my head on hers. "We've been working from the moment we landed."

"It felt like a holiday Nomi, despite all that stress I've been really happy. It's been nice being around you."

"You make it sound like I'm going somewhere Ems," I said nudging her gently. "You planning on firing me?"

"You wish," she said lifting our hands and kissing my fingers. "No, it's more that we'll be back to Miss fucking Fitch again, you'll be being all professional again and I'll be back to being a bitch all the time."

"Just like the last week love," I reminded her again. "Look, we were doing ok before we left England, what makes you think it'll be different when we get back?"

"Because I'll be stuck at work and you'll be going straight from dropping me off to Joanna's again and then back to your flat."

"That's pretty much the size of things Ems, but we managed to make time to see each other outside of work before. It's not as if I need an excuse to be with you when you go somewhere is it? Twenty-four-seven protection and all that."

"Yeah," Ems replied thoughtfully, "It's just that I keep thinking that I'm going to be so busy over the next few months that we won't get to see each other properly, not outside of work and weekends anyway; and I do like having you around you know, I really don't want to go back to sleeping alone. I like curling up with you, I like waking up with you next to me."

"You soppy bastard," I said grinning, shifting on my seat to wrap my arm around her, pushing down the blind on the window as I reached around.

"You love it, it makes me the same as you, we've already established that."

"That's what you think, but it doesn't change the fact that you're still a soppy bastard," I told her getting a light elbow for my troubles as our drinks arrived; Ems sitting up, but for some reason not letting me have my arm back, pinning it around her shoulders by sitting back.

"Nomi, how are we going to play this," she asked after she took a drink of the wonderful smelling hot chocolate she'd ordered; "when we get home that is?"

"We carry on as we did before I guess; I take it we're going to carry on being discrete?"

"Well I don't want daddy dearest to find out about us if that's what you mean. I don't think that would be a good idea."

"Well yeah, but I thought in general as well; I assumed you'd want us to go back to being a secret, like we were before."

"Secret love eh Nomi?"

"Secret love Ems, if that's what you want."

"I think it's the way its going to have to be babe; are you ok with that?"

She looked up at me, her eyes almost pleading with me to say yes. She didn't have to worry though, I had an honest answer for her…the same one I'd given her the last time she's asked.

"Whatever you need Ems, "I said leaning down to kiss her hair, inhaling the smell of her expensive perfume. "I'm pretty sure I've told you this before, I'm not about the big couple thing, we are what we are. If all the world can see is you and your CPO then I'm happy with that."

"Really? You don't mind being my 'dirty little secret'."

"Actually Ems, I really quite like the idea of being your 'dirty little secret'. It gives things a bit of extra spice you know? We'll just have to be more careful, no more of this sort of thing in public, just in case."

"Does that mean I have to make the most of all this public affection?" She said reaching up and stroking the arm I had wrapped around her. "You know, before we get home and we have to be all careful again."

"Well we do have the entire flight back, that's another seven uninterrupted hours of public affection," I teased grabbing her hand as it tickled my palm.

"Perhaps I should ask the stewardess for some blankets," she said snuggling down again.

"You won't sleep when you get home if you sleep through the flight again Ems," I told her trying to be sensible. "You said you've got an early start on Monday."

"I wasn't thinking about using the blankets to sleep under babe," she said looking up and waggling her eyebrows suggestively; "and please, don't ruin the time we have left by wishing Monday on us already."

"One day at a time Ems?"

"Yeah," she replied her voice sounding thoughtful once more, "one day at a time Nomi, let's just enjoy this moment while we can."

o+o+o

"Home again Nomi," she said as the plane taxied to a halt.

"Home again Ems," I agreed. We were back, and for me playtime was now over. Our little 'holiday' in the States had now officially ended; and it was time to get serious once again. We were back in the danger zone, and despite the promises of taking things one day at a time I knew things would have to subtly change again between us to make allowances for both of our relationships; the professional one _and_ the personal one. I think Emily knew it as well, she'd been quiet for quite a bit on the plane, barely talking as we 'watched' the movie we'd agreed upon. She'd obviously had things on her mind, but I knew that when she was ready she'd tell me about them.

Customs and baggage claim were surprisingly quiet for late Sunday evening, I was expecting it to be full of people returning to the drudgery of work from holidays in the sun; in fact there was barely a soul. There was also no-one to greet us as we walked out into arrivals; much to Emily's annoyance. Before we'd left she had arranged for Darren to pick us up, the guy agreeing to work despite it being Sunday; but we'd walked out of baggage claim to find no sign of him.

I pushed our luggage trolley over to a nearby bench seat so that Emily could dig in her bag and find her phone; fuming slightly at the delay as she waited for it to turn on for the first time in a week. Finally connected, she dialled the number to the office, walking around the arrivals hall while she waited for someone to answer. I watched her carefully as she paced up and down, muttering into her phone the whole time; as her paces turned into stomps, her face turned darker and darker. Whatever she was hearing, I could tell that it wasn't making her happy; and I braced myself for her fury

"Darren's not coming," Emily spat angrily as she sat down on the hard bench next to me. "Apparently he was sent to Edinburgh on an urgent job by Katie yesterday, and he's not due in until Monday," she continued obviously annoyed; "and '_unfortunately'_ no-one else was assigned to come and get us. Fucking convenient that, don't you think? I swear the bitch did it deliberately to get back at us for not inviting her to come out with us on Friday."

"I'm sure it's just a simple misunderstanding hun," I said soothingly, not sure of anything of the sort. "But it's ok, we can just get a cab can't we. I'll claim it back on expenses, that way I make tweak it so that Katie's department will get the bill."

"Yeah of course we can, but it's not the point is it? She knew we were coming back late tonight and she knew that I specifically arranged for Darren to come and pick us up from the airport. She's just being a bitch again, she doesn't want me to be happy, I'm sure of it."

"Well, let's not allow it to ruin things Ems," I said grabbing my bag and one of hers. "Come on, let's go find ourselves a cab."

I wasn't convinced by Emily's complaints about her sister, though I did agree that this was more than convenient; I made a note in my head to have a little chat with Mrs Fitch-Brace on her return to the UK, at the very least what she had done was potentially fucking dangerous, and I put myself on alert just in case.

As we walked out of the terminal doors and around the corner, searching for a taxi to take us back to St John's Wood, I felt something hit my face. Within seconds the familiar sound of rain splattering on the pavement was all around us, as the heavens opened.

"Fuck, we're going to get soaked," Emily said grumpily, looking around to find some cover and finding none.

"Here get under this with me," I replied as I pulled off my coat and threw it over us, huddling close to get as much of us under the thin material as we could. Happily for Emily's thin summer dress, if not for my dirty little mind, the bright orange lamp of a hackney cab turned the corner in front of us and pulled in at the sign of my outstretched, dripping wet arm; the grizzled driver hunched over as he got out of his door to open the boot for our bags.

"Wet night love," he said as between us we threw the bags into the back, Emily safely ensconced in the back of the cab out of the rain. "You been somewhere nice and sunny?"

"States," I said as he closed the boot and ran around to his door, climbing into the back and sitting down next to a shivering Emily. "It was just a bit hotter than here while we were there, and a lot fucking drier too."

"Yeah, welcome home to the good old English summer, it's been like this all week; now, where can I take you to ladies?"

"St John's Wood for a drop off first mate," I said trying to plan the journey in my head, "and then to Richmond if that's ok?"

"Richmond _first_ please," Emily corrected me, "then onto St John's Wood."

"Why we going to my place first Ems?" I asked confused. "I'm not letting you travel home on your own. We're back in England now remember? We can't afford to relax anymore."

"We're going to _your_ place to pick up some of your gear and then we're going to the flat; you're moving in with me remember? Personal protective service…twenty four seven by my side," she said linking our arms and snuggling into me, laying her head on my shoulder. "I was thinking it through on the plane, I know you didn't think it was a good idea, but things _have_ changed a little between us. Besides, _mum_ thinks it's a good idea, _I _think it's a good idea and it's exactly what daddy _ordered_ us to do; and as I see it Nomi, there's no time like the present to make it happen."

"You want me to move into yours _tonight_?" I said trying to process what she was saying.

"No, I want you to move some of your stuff from that apartment you're borrowing into ours; you can get the rest later"

"Ours?" I asked frowning at her.

"Yes," she said firmly, "ours!"

"I'm not sure about that Ems," I said, "I still don't think it's a great idea."

"Look, Nomi, you can have your own room if that's what you need, we can make this work somehow, but it's the perfect solution for us, trust me."

I was about to reply when the frustrated voice of the taxi driver came over the little speaker. "Look ladies, as fascinating as this it you're on a meter; where do you want me to take you."

"Richmond, and then St Johns Wood mate," Emily said quickly, stopping me from speaking with the gentle press of her finger against my lips; "one quick pickup if it's ok with you and then _we're_ going home."

.

.

.

**Authors Note **– Hmmm, well...I think that's quite enough of that sort of thing for this story thank you very much. I believe that we are approaching what I am going to "all pretentiously" call the '_Transition_ _Chapters'_ of this story now; time to step things along and tie up a few floating bits that people have asked me about so we can move onto the next part of this sorry little tale.

Long way to go yet though, as Crazy2592 alluded to a couple of weeks ago, we really are only just starting...

...I think I've created a monster!


	49. Beginnings and Endings

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness, a heavy case of writers block and a ex I could happily put in the Basement with Naomi right now!

I still nothing to do with Skins, (but then do we care about Skins any more? Well until that Gen 2 Movie appears anyway).

**Authors Note: **and here we are again, Wednesday arrives and with it, the start of my transitional chapters, (though this one I _will_ call filler!), not much to catch up with here…

Probably d-:

Anyway, enough dribbling, enjoy!

**Chapter 49 – Beginnings and Endings**

It was just over a week after our American adventure and I was living in what I believe people call 'domestic bliss'.

Well sort of.

Domestic ecstasy might be a better definition of what I found myself in, it was so different to my other experience of 'living' with a girlfriend; so very different indeed.

We'd done exactly what she'd wanted after we'd landed, heading to my apartment to pick up some clean clothes before continuing our journey to her small flat in St John's Wood; collapsing in a jetlagged stupor almost the second our heads hit the plush cotton covered pillows of her bed.

Once we'd agreed the basic rules to our relationship, things went reasonably smoothly. She didn't mess me about and make me worry professionally; I did the same thing personally. We were forced by necessity to have two different lives, the personal and the professional; and it was impossible to let the personal intrude into the professional life. So we kept them separate as best we could, and somewhere in the middle we found a place where we could just be ourselves and enjoy it; and enjoy it we did.

During work time when I wasn't sat on the sofa in Emily's office watching her work, and swapping e-mails with JJ and Cook on my phone; I was stood, much to her annoyance, outside her office door as usual, doing my job as best I could protecting her the whole time, personally and professionally.

The whole protection thing didn't always go smoothly however, my general 'hanging around', as she called my guard duty, eventually frustrated her so much it prompted a change in office space; Emily moving down the corridor to a smaller room with an attached side office that Bonnie and I were to be installed in at her insistence.

"There," Emily said as she propelled me towards one of the desks, the one that was situated right next to her new office door. "You sit there from now on, that way you can do your job without standing outside in the corridor like a flaming statue, and making me feel stupid when people come to see me."

"…and what about the other door?" I said interrupting her pleased look with the question that I'd had running around my head. "The one that opens to the corridor, how do I guard that from in here?"

"I'll lock that if it makes you feel better Naomi," she replied simply, a smug grin on her face as if pleased she'd anticipated my request. It was good, she'd obviously thought about her security which was a major improvement on her usual casualness, but it wasn't good enough for me.

"I'd prefer it if it was blocked off entirely," I'd replied with just a hint of professional aloofness; "that way no-one could use it at all."

"That would look stupid Naomi," Emily had said shaking her head. "I can't just put my sofa in front of the doorway."

"Why don't you get that big cabinet moved instead?" Bonnie added looking up from her computer with a smile at our bickering. "That would cover it completely, no-one would know there was even a door there."

"Thank you Bonnie," Emily said sarcastically, putting her hands on her hips and frowning. "I thought you were on _my_ side."

"I'm sorry Emily," Bonnie said, hiding her grin behind her monitor. "I thought the point was to keep you safe."

"Yes, but this all seems a little extreme doesn't it?" she said frustratedly, the hairs on the back of my neck rising in warning at a potentially 'pissed off Emily'. "I mean honestly, for someone to cause trouble here they've got to get past the guys on reception, and then make their way up four flights of stairs and past the security doors just to get close to my office, and _then_ they've got to get through a locked door; I'm sure by that time Naomi would have been alerted."

"Well when you put it that way," Bonnie replied nodding away, her hair bobbing away amusingly as she agreed with her boss.

"I do," Ems said firmly folding her arms across her chest signalling that was the end of that particular exchange.

"Could we at least put a wedge under the door Miss Fitch," I asked, not wanting to let this go just yet, "once you've locked it…just in case."

"As long as it's discrete, this is supposed to be my office Naomi not Buckingham bloody Palace."

With that last shot she turned away and closed her door behind her; shaking her head as she went. With a smile I sat down at my tiny little desk and opened my bag, pulling out some of the reports that I'd been sent; reports that I tried to keep hidden from Emily. I was working my way through the latest threat analysis on her newest potential client when I noticed Bonnie, looking at me and grinning, out of the corner of my eye.

"What?" I asked not lifting my eyes from the papers in front of me.

"Oh, nothing," she replied with a little lilt in her voice that told me it was anything but nothing.

"What's so funny Bonnie?" I asked sighing and shuffling the papers in front of me, looking over at her amused face.

"Nothing Naomi," she said as she typed away, "I'm just amusing myself while I wait."

"Wait for what?" I said, before being interrupted by the phone on her desk ringing away. She grinned at me and pointed at the phone before dramatically lifting it to her ear, her eyes on me the whole time.

"Yes Emily I'll tell her…" she said winking at me, "…and yes of course I'll let you know when your next meeting arrives…of course I'll do that, drinks and biscuits as usual, I've got it all ready for you…I'll bring it straight through once I've showed them in."

"You're wanted," she said grinning at me as she put down the phone, "again…"

Bonnie made a great play of looking at her watch, smiling at me all the time, "She's getting much better you know, she did really well this time; that was nearly two minutes."

"Two minutes what, " I replied looking blankly at her.

"Two minutes before she called you into her office," she said winking at me, "like I say she's getting much better."

"Funny girl," I replied wryly, putting the reports back into the drawer and closing it firmly. "Did she say what she wanted this time?"

"Apparently she wants to discuss meeting up with her mother next weekend when she comes back from New York, but I'm sure that's not the _only_ reason."

She grinned up at me as I stood over her desk frowning.

"Oh shut up," I told her swiping my hand at her head, faking a slap good naturedly. There was no hiding anything from Bonnie, within two hours of our arrival on Monday she was eyeing us suspiciously; by the end of Wednesday Emily and I knew that she'd rumbled us. Strangely though we weren't in the slightest bit bothered, Emily trusted Bonnie and I trusted Emily's opinion; it was just one of those things that we didn't have to discuss. Besides, I was pretty sure that the two of them had discussed me before, during and after that fateful party at Fitch Manor.

So it was with a knowing snigger from behind me that I opened the door to Emily's office and stepped inside, giving Emily a stern look as I closed the door behind me.

"You've got to stop this you know?" I said as I walked over to her desk.

"Stop what?" she said looking up from her laptop and taking off the glasses she was wearing to look at the screen; running a tired hand through her hair as she shook it out.

"Stop calling me in here thirty seconds after you close the door, I'm sure Bonnie thinks we're in here making out or something."

"She does not," Emily said looking shocked, "and I don't do that do I?"

"Every time hun," I told her, slumping in the chair next to her desk. "I think Bonnie thinks it's funny; she's just told me that that two minutes is a record for you."

"Well I did _actually_ have a reason this time babe," she said rubbing her eyes tiredly, "I've just got a message from mum, she's coming home with Colin this Friday and she wants to meet up this weekend before she goes home. I've sort of promised we'd pick them up from the airport, I hope that's ok? I thought we could pick them up ourselves so we don't ruin Darren and Bonnie's weekend again."

"Fine with me," I replied simply, "I don't get my new car until next week though remember? Damn thing is still delayed from the leasing firm, can we take one of the ones from here or something?"

That had been the one inconvenience of the last week, not having a car and having to use the Fitch Industries drivers to get us back and forth. The leasing company were being difficult about giving me a new car, though after the state I left my last company vehicle in, I really wasn't surprised.

"Yeah, I guess so, give me a second and I'll find out if we've got one spare."

Emily picked up her phone and called Bonnie, chatting with her about arranging a car for us. I was watching her with some concern as she spoke to her assistant, rubbing her eyes again; we've only been back for a week and a half, and already she was looking beat down by everything. I actually felt guilty about leaving her alone in the flat at night while I went to see Joanna; my therapy meetings continuing, at Emily's insistence, pretty much from our first evening home. I know she was burning the midnight oil while I was out, coming home each night to find her crouched over her laptop; working away on the deals she was trying to make, and all the complicated figures that went with them.

She'd even worked over the weekend, apologising for leaving me alone; explaining that she needed to get the numbers sorted for meetings she had, and that she had no time to get things done when she was in the office. Basically, she was working too damned hard, and it looked like it was starting to get to her. What frustrated me more than anything was there was nothing I could do to help; apart from make sure she ate, slept, and be there for her if she needed me.

"Are you ok Ems," I asked her when she put the phone down, "you're looking shattered today."

"I'm feeling shattered," she said nodding her head. "It's like I haven't stopped since we landed last Sunday, there's just so much to do you know?"

"Well not tonight," I told her making the decision instantly, my tone brooking no argument. "Tonight _I'm_ going to cook, and _you're_ going to relax and have an early night. No working until midnight on that fucking laptop of yours."

"I'll get a couple of hours in while you're in your meeting with Joanna tonight," she said sitting back in her chair and rolling her neck. "But an early night sounds really good, I might even soak in a hot bath for an hour or two if you're promising to cook."

"I'm not promising much more than field rations," I said laughing at her, "But there's no appointment tonight, I'm not due to see Joanna until next week now, she thinks weekly appointments will be more than enough for now."

"You didn't tell me that," she exclaimed sitting up quickly, "that's really positive!"

"I think she's just sick of the sight of me to be honest."

'_Or sick of having to deal with the constant changes in our relationship as well as my other issues,' _I thought to myself, thinking back on how much time Joanna had spent talking about Emily and I over the last few sessions.

"No, it's _really_ good news Nomi, it means you're making real progress," Ems said proudly, "and field rations sounds fine, as long as I don't have to do it. I have to admit I'm getting sick of takeaway food now."

"No takeout, I'm sick to death of takeouts too and I'm sure my body hates me for forcing it to eat them," I said patting my stomach. "I think we'll stop off and get some supplies on the way home, and I'll try to cook us something nice; but I'm still sending _you_ on a cookery course one day," I said getting up from the chair and heading over to the door. "Now stop distracting yourself, and me, and get some work done; because when you leave here tonight, you're not doing another thing and that's final."

I closed the door behind me and winked at Bonnie, "she's working too hard," I explained as I sat down and dug out the papers I'd been reading.

"She always does," Bonnie said, clicking away on her keyboard.

"Yeah well hopefully I've sorted that." I told her, diving headlong into my report.

"She's _also_ very distractible at the moment," Bonnie said pointedly, ignoring my attempt at concentration, "which really isn't helping."

I looked up from the document and fixed her with a frown before smiling slightly at her concern. "Yeah well," I repeated, "hopefully I've sorted that too."

o+o+o

Field rations turned into a nice piece of chicken stuffed with Philadelphia cheese and wrapped in some bacon that I carefully prepared while Emily took the bath she'd promised herself in her tiny bathroom. It was adventurous for me, but the recipe on the internet seemed simple enough and it didn't take me too long to prep it and pop it under the grill. When I was done, I took a glass of wine in to my girl, only to find her lying back in the suds, a damp hand towel folded and draped across her eyes. I got a smile as I silently placed her glass down next to her head and I left her with a kiss on the forehead and an instruction not to drown herself by falling asleep.

While she relaxed I busied myself in the kitchen, preparing the salad and some boiled new potatoes to go with the chicken. I'd just drained them and drizzled on a little olive oil, thinking how nice it all smelt, when I heard Emily getting out of the bath. Sure enough, the smell of freshly cooked food meant that Emily's stomach overrode her desire to soak away for the threatened hour or two, and quarter of an hour later we were sat with a couple of drinks, chowing down happily.

"This is really good Nomi," Ems said as she sliced into the chicken, the cheese oozing out onto her plate to be captured by her knife; "thanks for doing this. Did you really learn to do this in the army?"

"Sort of," I admitted taking a drink to clear my palette, "Mum taught me a lot about cooking when I was growing up, and I did learn some basics when we weren't on base and getting things cooked for us. I learnt a lot from Gill, mate Paul's missus, she taught me a few things along the way as well, she was a really good cook. It's nice to get into the kitchen again," I said as she grinned across the coffee table to me. "I could always show you if you'd like."

"Well you can cook for me any time babe," Ems said raising her glass to me. "especially if it tastes this good. You can even try to teach me if you want, getting steamy in the kitchen sounds like a lot of fun to me."

"Cheeky, you're supposed to be relaxing you know; not thinking about sex in the kitchen."

"Who mentioned sex?" Ems said, smiling properly for what seemed like the first time in days. "It would be a bit cramped in there though, but not as cramped as that shower cubicle back in that hotel…."

"Emily…" I said warningly, "…relaxation and an early night remember?"

"Yeah, I know," she said yawning away, "I'm only messing about, I think curling up in front of the telly is a far better plan than shagging in the kitchen tonight."

"Then to bed…to sleep," I added at her smirk. "You need a good nights rest."

"That I do," she nodded back, "it's been a long week."

"It's only Wednesday hun," I told her sympathetically, getting up from the table and clearing away our bowls."

"Like I say, it's been a long week."

After doing the washing up I joined Emily on the sofa, sitting next to her as she watched a trashy rom-com that was on Sky. Within a minute of my arse hitting the cushion I had her head on my lap, pinning me down and stopping me from escaping from the TV torture. As I allowed myself to relax, for the first time that day, I absently ran my hand through her thick red curls, stroking gently and forcing myself to endure the rubbish that she seemed enthralled with. To my relief though it wasn't long before her head was lolling to the side, tiredness taking over. Five minutes after that she was fast asleep, resting her cheek on her hand and snoring away. Reaching for the remote I switched channels, eventually finding something that appealed to me; I turned the sound down low so as not to disturb the sleeping girl and allowed myself to relax, enjoying the feeling as the tension in my muscles drained away. It was less than an hour later when my own tiredness got the better of me; carefully I eased myself from underneath Emily and, not for the first time that week, carried her exhausted form to bed.

o+o+o

For all the sleep she got on that Wednesday night, Emily's week didn't get much easier; and it was half past nine on Friday night before she managed to escape from her last conference call and we headed down into the underground car park to make the drive across town to Heathrow. To my surprise I saw a familiar looking black Range Rover parked in Emily's private bay by the lifts.

"I thought you'd want to drive something familiar," Emily said with a smile pressing the keys into my hand as we walked over to the big bus, "luckily Richard drove Mum over here in it the other week, so I commandeered it for us."

"Good idea," I replied, blipping the remote and carefully opening the back door for her; checking the vehicle was empty before ushering her in. One quick five second check of the boot later I was starting the powerful engine and, slipping it into gear, heading off into the warm London evening and heading West. The only advantage to our stupidly late finish was that the roads were pretty clear, and we made great time as we headed out of the city; threading our way along the A4 passing the brightly lit frontage of Harrods before heading right just after the Fullers Brewery so we could hop onto the motorway at Chiswick.

"We're going to be late," Emily muttered to herself from the back seat glancing at her watch worriedly, "she'll be landing like now."

I pressed my foot a little closer to the floor, causing the big old bus to accelerate, I didn't want to push it too far and risk getting pulled over, but I didn't want to be late either. I knew Jenna's CPO would be with her and that Heathrow was a pretty secure location; but Emily wanted to be there for her mother and it was my job to make sure that happened.

"What time does their flight touch down Ems?" I asked turning down the stereo and pretending not to have heard her comment.

"Just about now babe, how far away are we?"

I glanced at the sat-nav and swore under my breath, according to the 'bird in the box' we were still fifteen minutes out, Emily's worry not improving when I told her the score.

"She's going to be so pissed off with me, I told her we'd be waiting for them when they landed," she fretted. "Can't we go a bit faster?"

"I'm doing nearly ninety now Ems, we don't want to get a ticket. Why don't you look up her flight on your phone and see where it is ok?"

"Yeah, good plan…"

There was silence from the back for the next few minutes, enabling me to focus on my driving, pushing the speed limit as far as I dared, looking around for both signs of danger and indeed the Police while she searched the net for information.

"You can slow down a bit babe," I heard eventually, "according to this they haven't landed yet, we've got a bit of time."

"How much time?" I asked easing back off the accelerator, fixing my speed at eighty.

"About twenty minutes, the flights been slightly delayed, I hope they're ok."

"I'm sure they're fine love," I said, relaxing slightly and bringing our speed down to the legal limit. "Our flight was delayed on the way out if you remember; headwinds over the Atlantic or whatever excuse it was to keep me in the fucking air."

"I don't think it was deliberate babe," Ems said and I heard her chuckling from the back, my little rant having the desired effect of distracting her.

"That's as maybe, but it's probably something like that that's holding them up. Anyway, we'll be there in about five minutes," I said as I turned off the motorway, following the directions on the fancy screen towards international arrivals.

o+o+o

The car was a little cramped as we drove back towards London, Jenna, Colin and Emily squeezed into the back seats. I was sat up front with Richard, the CPO that had been assigned to Jenna for the duration, and the guy that had covered for me when I'd had my one day off. Emily was right, he _was_ a lot less intense than me, in fact he was annoyingly familiar with all of them and I was fuming the whole way to the hotel, promising myself that I'd have words.

I mean it's one thing to be relaxed when you're four thousand miles away from any likely danger, it's another when you're back in the thick of it. They'd come wandering through the airport like a family on holiday and he had shown not a care for the things that were going on around him. It scared the shit out of me that I'd allowed Emily to be in his charge for one day, let alone placing her mother with him; as a member of my team he was my responsibility and I was going to make sure he didn't fuck up again.

To my relief he got the message straight away, my quiet conversation in a corner of the hotel lobby having the desired effect. Richard was actually a very professional operative, he recognised his shortcomings immediately and apologised for his laxness. It was exactly the reaction I wanted from him and I dropped the matter for now; vowing to keep a closer eye on the team in future. We didn't stay with them for much longer that it took them to get checked in, time was getting late; and, with a promise to meet Jenna the next day Emily and I left them to their jetlagged sleep.

"What was all that about Nomi?" Ems said as we drove back to our flat, "you and Richard were very cosy before, you didn't look very happy though."

"It was nothing Ems, I was just reminding him of a few ground rules that's all."

"Why? Has he done something wrong? He seemed like a really nice guy when I spent the day with him, and mum thinks he's brilliant."

"He's become a bit familiar that's all, I just wanted to remind him that there are lines we shouldn't cross you know? It's part of my job to remind my team of that, I don't want anyone getting hurt because we might screw up, especially any of you."

"If you say so."

"I do. We're right back in the firing line now, and those fuckers that have been hunting you down won't have gone away. It's no time for him to be stupid and putting everyone at risk because of it. It was stupid and careless and it's not happening again, not on my watch anyway."

There was a silence from the back of the vehicle, a silence that reminded me that I too had crossed a line; spectacularly crossed it in fact, and now I'd just admitted that it might be putting Emily at risk. I frowned at her silence and continued to drive us home, trying to focus on what I was supposed to be doing, watching the roads for signs of danger; and tried not to consider what she might be thinking about.

Emily made no move to get out of the Range Rover when we pulled up, just as I'd taught her, waiting until I could open her door and safely escort her into the building. As we walked through the empty hallway to the lifts she silently reached out and grabbed my hand; as the lift doors closed in front of me though, that silence was abruptly broken.

"Nomi are we ok?" she said quietly, looking up at me as we stood surrounded by the mirrors.

"We're fine love, or at least I thought we were. Why do you ask?"

"Oh nothing," she replied unconvincingly as the lift came to a standstill and the doors opened. "Doesn't matter."

Once I'd checked the way was clear, Emily led me down the corridor to the flat; opening the door and walking in. I frowned as she walked over the switch on the light and closed the door firmly behind me, making sure it was locked closed. The second I turned around Emily was on me, shoving me back against the door with a bang and kissing me passionately, demandingly even; as if trying to convince herself that we were in fact ok, as if unconvinced by my reassurances.

"Ems," I panted as she broke away, taking a hurried breath. I held her back as she pushing herself towards me once more.

"Ems, " I said as she fought me; "Ems, stop it, talk to me,what's wrong."

"Nothings wrong," she said again breathlessly, struggling to escape my grip; "just kiss me Nomi. Kiss me, take me to bed and make love to me, I need you to make love to me tonight."

"No Ems," I told her forcefully, holding her tightly to me, "not until you talk to me, about what's wrong. You're scaring me hun, this isn't like you."

It wasn't either, it was more like Amy than the woman I loved, and she really _was_ scaring me; it almost a relief when her petite frame slumped against me and I was able to ease her into the living room and sit her down on the sofa.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on in that head of yours love?" I asked finally, running my hand through her hair once more. "Tell me what's just happened?"

"I guess I got scared again Naomi," she said simply and I believed her, being scared after my stupid admission in the car made perfect sense.

"Don't be scared Ems," I replied, as reassuringly as I could. "I'm here, no-one is going to hurt you. Just because they're still out there doesn't mean they're going to get a chance to get near you."

"I'm not scared of that Naomi, I'm just worried that you're going to end us because of what you said. You had a right go about Richard for being over friendly ,and then you went all silent and ignored me. I know you were having second thoughts about us, it was obvious that you were thinking how stupid you'd been getting involved with me."

"Ems, that was the last thing that was going through my mind," I told her seriously. "I thought _you_ were thinking about how stupid we'd been, how much I might have put _you_ at risk."

"_Have_ you put me at risk Nomi?" Emily asked letting out a breath and sniffing.

"Well I don't think I have, but..."

"_Will_ you put me at risk," she interrupted me.

"Only if I fuck up Ems, and that's not likely to happen any time soon."

"But you said…"

"I _know_ what I said Ems," I reassured her, knowing what I was about to tell her was the absolute truth; "but Richard isn't me. He hasn't got what I've got, a real reason to _want_ to keep you safe; this 'us' makes me want to make sure you're safe all the time. It makes me not want to switch off ever, and as long as you keep working with me I won't, all right?"

"But…"

"But nothing," I interrupted running my fingers across her cheek. "Just stop it Emily ok? Richard got a bollocking because he wasn't doing his job, nothing more. I've not stopped doing my job from the moment we met, not here, not in America, not even when I thought you hated me. Just because I fell in love with you somewhere along that journey didn't stop me doing my job."

"I know that Nomi," Emily said quickly, "it's just…"

I silenced her quickly, gagging her with my hand, placing my fingers across her lips; barely touching them but getting my message across effectively.

"Enough Ems, I'm sorry if I scared you, but I'm not going anywhere, ok? And I assure you, if I ever have a worry about our relationship jeopardising your safety I'll talk to you about it."

"Promise?"

"I promise," I said leaning down to kiss her sad looking face; "now, do you want a drink, or do you still want me to throw you on the bed and shag you senseless? I'm quite happy with either option I have to say."

"Actually, I'd like a drink if you're offering to make one love," she said smiling up at me weakly. "Perhaps we could save the shagging senseless part for later."

"I can live with that," I replied with a wink, "tea or hot chocolate?"

"Hot chocolate please, with some of those mini marshmallows we bought," she said, at least sounding a little happier. I sighed dramatically and rolled my eyes, rewarded from my theatrics with a broader smile, one that touched her eyes with the spark I knew and loved.

"Why did I even ask?"

"I don't know baby, I guess you're as stupid as I am."

o+o+o

That silly little crisis averted we spent the rest of the evening quietly sipping our drinks before going to bed. As Emily slept next to me, her breathing deep and regular, I thought about the little lie I'd told her. I _had_ become a little sloppy when we were in America; not dangerously so; but I had allowed myself to take my eye off the bigger picture, that couldn't happen again.

As I had bollocked Richard earlier, I mentally bollocked myself; making sure I was I was on top of my game. Just because I was in a relationship with my package didn't mean that anything had to change, I could totally do this.

Quite frankly I had to…I didn't have an option. The reports that JJ had sent me didn't make good reading, the messages of hatred were still coming into Fitch Industries and though the team were still confused about the nature of the threat we faced. In fact the only ting we were sure of was that it was still out there.

Still lurking away, still as deadly as ever.

With that worrying thought still gnawing away at the back of my mind, I lay back into my pillows and drifted into a restless sleep.

o+o+o

I was rewarded on Saturday morning with a cup of tea and a smile from a rested looking Emily before we headed over to the Savoy for breakfast with Jenna. I was pleased to see that Richard was sat with her when we arrived, blending in with the environment but clearly paying attention to everything that was going on; spotting us less than a second after I saw them. I was also pleased to see that they were seated away from the windows, tucked away in a quiet area of the restaurant exactly where I would have chosen.

"No Colin?" Emily said as she kissed her hello's to her mother, Richard standing politely as we sat ourselves down.

"No dear, he's gone back to the club, they're running a competition this weekend and he's already used up the owners good graces with the late notice for our little trip. Besides, I don't think he'd appreciate our little girly day at that Spa you mentioned Emily."

"Can't say I blame him," I muttered to Richard who nodded at me meaningfully.

"Sounds like my idea of hell too," he whispered, "I'm glad you're looking after them today rather than me."

I stared at him suspiciously as he grinned at me knowingly. "Mrs Fitch wanted me to make arrangements for us to return to Bath; so she said it would be best if you kept an eye on them so I could sort out a car and everything. I think it's a great idea personally."

"I don't," I said with feeling, "I remember the last time that shit was inflicted on me. I think I'll just leave them to it and sit outside."

"Sounds like a plan Naomi," he said sipping at his tea, "though I doubt you're going to get your wish." He nodded across the table and I turned my head to see both Jenna and Emily looking at me appraisingly.

Frowning at the look they were giving me I turned back to Richard.

"You just watch me," I said firmly, squinting my eyes, "not a hope in hell!"

o+o+o

Our second Sunday living together saw me arranging some of my personal items around my room. I'd moved all of my meagre possessions from Close Protection's apartment to Emily's place during the previous week. I'd placed my clothes in drawers and on hangars. Shoes were slipped onto fancy little racks that were built into posh wardrobes and underwear was placed carefully into cloth boxes in a cupboard drawer.

With my jacket hung over a chair and my jewellery and make-up scattered across the dressing table, the room looked totally lived in.

Something it most certainly was not.

In fact I'd spent only one night in here since I'd moved in, and Emily was with me then. It only took one night on that double bed to get us to agree that her luxury king size was obviously the better choice for us. It wasn't that it was uncomfortable, it was more that Emily fidgeted so much in bed she kicked me out twice. Personally I'm sure she did it deliberately, I know she had no real intention of giving up her bed, or me.

So the main reason for me taking over the spare room like this was twofold, appearance and space. It gave us the appearance that what we had here was nothing more than a professional relationship, and the space to be apart for a while when we needed to be. Twenty four seven personal protection was one thing, twenty four seven in each others company would likely add just one more strain to what we had.

I finished my homemaking by putting up the picture frame I'd made for my mother all those years ago, putting it on the wall in pride of place. I smiled as I looked at the three familiar photographs, of three different periods in my life. It felt good to have it somewhere stable again, at least in the short term anyway; it felt good to have my mum somewhere I could perhaps start to call home. It was a hell of a lot better than having her in a storage locker that was for sure.

I looked around the completed room and, patting myself on the back for a job well done, I walked into the living room to see Emily stretching to take down a photograph of her and Katie taken at some fancy event somewhere.

"Need a hand hun?" I said walking up behind her, catching the photograph as she dropped it from the wall.

"Well I was doing fine before you came in doing your ninja impression," she said turning and taking the picture from me.

"What are you doing? Other than taking down a picture," I added quickly as her lips twitched at my obvious question.

"I'm putting this up," she said holding up a framed picture. "We don't really have one of _us_, and it probably wouldn't be a good idea if we did; but I got this one printed, it's better than nothing."

I took a close look at the picture, it was of Cook and Effy, and me and Emily; it had been taken on our big night out in America, the four of us stood with our arms around each other, smiles present on all of our faces. It was a good picture of two couples that were also friends; and it had been taken by someone that really should have been in the picture with us.

"Nice," I said simply as she reached up to hang it on the hook.

"Yeah, it looks really good babe, nice to have something of _us_ here in some way."

"See you've nicked one of my pictures too," I said spotting another arrival on a side table, "I've been looking everywhere for that."

"Yeah," Ems said walking over and picking up the small print in its cheap frame. "Sorry, I thought you'd want something of yours in here too, seeing as you're my roomie now."

"Thanks," I said, slipping my arms around her and kissing the base of her neck, "I appreciate the thought."

"You look really happy there Nomi," she said, "you must have loved those guys a lot."

"I did," I said, leaning me head on her shoulder and looking into the smiling eyes of a younger, less broken, me; stood around a lightweight Land Rover with the rest of my unit. I remember the day it had been taken as if it were yesterday, we were all kitted out and ready to head off on patrol; guns held casually over shoulders, thumbs raised, each and every one of us thinking we were totally bullet proof.

"They were a great bunch," I said needlessly explaining my affection for them, "we were a really good team."

I slipped my hands up from her waist and took the picture from her hands, placing it down on the table again. "Thanks for doing that hun, I really do appreciate you making me want to feel at home here."

"Well it _is_ your home now Nomi; next weekend I think we should take a trip to that lock up of yours so you can get some more of your stuff to bring here."

"Perhaps," I said noncommittally, I couldn't really think of anything else that was there that I wanted to bring with me, except perhaps for my table and that wouldn't fit, let alone fit in, here.

"I have something here for you as well babe," she said spinning around in my arms and kissing my throat. "It arrived yesterday actually, I was going to give it to you right away, but I was…well I didn't think it was the right time. Don't be mad at me ok"

"Why would I be mad at you love?" I asked curiously, spotting that she had a look that just said 'guilt'.

"Because I promised you this ages ago, and I've been waiting for it to arrive, I just didn't want to ruin anything yesterday; we were having such a good time."

I didn't really understand what she was on about, but she was right, we had been having a good time on that lazy Saturday. I had successfully avoided having to take part in the spa sessions she had booked with her mother. I had allowed Emily to treat me to a session with Franco only after a small, fairly half hearted, argument about the cost versus the state of my darkening roots. Happily though I missed out on the salt rub and the sauna session as well as the massage therapy; opting to wait outside with my headphones on, wishing I could make use of their pool while I waited the day away. From the spa we went for dinner and drinks before dropping Jenna off at Fitch Industries; meeting up with Richard once more so he could drive her home.

Once Jenna was safe, secure and on her way back to Bath, we drove back to the flat and just chilled out; Emily with a glass of wine and me with a nice cup of tea. With a silly film on the telly and a comfortable sofa we were content until we made our way to bed. It had definitely been a good day all in all; Emily had been happy and relaxed for the first time since we'd got home, and I totally understood not wanting to ruin it, especially after the misunderstanding we'd had on Friday.

"I won't be mad at you Ems," I promised, kissing her softly, "well not for very long anyway, depending on what you've done that is. Though if you've invited your Dad, your sister and her husband over for dinner I might be a bit cross."

"No chance of that love," she said shaking her head dramatically, her hair thrashing about like a model in a hair care advert. "I very much doubt they'd come even if I did."

"Well I guess you're ok then," I replied smiling. "That's the only think I could thing that you could have done that would have ruined yesterday."

"Aw, that's sweet, come on it's over here," she said linking her fingers with mine and leading me over to the sofa and sitting me down. "Here," she said handing me a largish cardboard box, "I'll be in the bedroom if you need me."

She went to walk away, but I managed to reach out and pull her back, dragging her down onto the sofa next to me.

"Not so fast Miss Fitch, you can't give me a box like this and walk away." I teased, "you can't fool me, it's a bomb…if I'm going down, you're going down with me Fitch."

I was expecting at least a smile, possibly even little dig at the deliberate double-entendre that I made; but to my surprise I got nothing but a little squeeze of my arm. It was so strange it made me really curious about what was in the box, and really concerned about her reaction. Wanting to make her feel better I wrapped my arm around the lovely woman that was sitting next to me and kissed her on the head, feeling her snuggle into me as I pulled her close.

With my free hand I lifted the lid of the package and lifted out the smart silver laptop that was nestled within.

"You bought me a computer hun?" I said putting it onto my lap, and squeezing her tightly, "thank you."

I had no idea what the hell I was going to do with a computer, but it was a lovely thought, Emily obviously wanting to get me hooked up to all this social media stuff I heard her talking about.

"It's not just the laptop baby, open it and turn it on."

There was a seriousness to her voice that made me frown and fumblingly I lifted the lid to the computer, pressing the power button to start it up. Within seconds the Windows logo appeared and then the desktop with all the usual icons…

All the usual icons bar one that caught my eye, one simple addition that was sat squarely in the centre of the desktop. It was an icon that indicated a folder, a folder that I was drawn to like a magnet, a folder that had the simple title _'Memory Tapes'._

As my finger shook across the touchpad, moving the mouse to hover over that folder, I heard Emily speak next to me, the words barely registering on my mind.

"I'm sorry it took so long baby, but there were a lot of tapes they had to convert…and it took them far longer than I thought it would…and I know I should have told you yesterday but like I said I was being selfish and…"

I stopped her babbling, by pulling her into me and kissing her hair once more; my feelings were pretty jumbled at that point and I knew I needed her presence to keep me calm.

"Is this…does this…are these my mums tapes," I heard myself stammer, "all of them?"

"Yes," she said quietly, "I said I'd get them converted for you and I have. The originals are safe as well, Darren is going to collect them, but I wanted you to have this now so Bonnie dropped it off when we were out yesterday."

"Thank you," I said simply, opening the folder and looking at the numbers and names that were once a box of videos that I'd ignored and then lost the ability to watch. The words weren't enough, thank you could never be enough for what she had just done; and I prayed that she would understand that. Emily had just given me my mother back and I hoped that I was strong enough to handle it.

"I'll leave you to it love, shout me if you need me," she said, and before I could react she had slipped from my grasp and walked out of the door.

"Emily!" I called quickly, and to my relief her head appeared at the doorway within moments. "Please," I said stretching out my arm and patting the warm spot on the sofa that she had so recently vacated, "I think I might need some help with this."

With a sad smile she sat down and slipped back into my arms, resting her head on my shoulder and laying her arm across my stomach. "Whatever you need love," she said hugging me tightly, "I'm here for you always Nomi, whatever and whenever."

I bit back a tear, let out a sigh, and double clicked on the very first file, tape number one – _'Beginnings and Endings' _ within seconds the pale face of my mother appeared on the laptops screen; sat on her hospital bed and looking as sick as I remembered her being.

"_Hello Naomi love,"_ it started, her voice sounding so weak, and yet still so strong and powerful…

…and my tears finally started to flow.

.

.

.

**Authors Note **– was that a cliff hanger? Surely not; I'm not totally happy with this one, but it gets me from A to B as they say, see you next week – it's chapter 50 that's a big number even for my OCD, so no pressure then! (-:


	50. Gina Campbell Speaks

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness, a heavy case of writers block and a ex I could happily put in the Basement with Naomi right now!

I still nothing to do with Skins, (but then do we care about Skins any more? Well until that Gen 2 Movie appears anyway).

**Authors Note: **Yes folks, as you guessed it's time for me to start tying up some of those themes I started in this transitional part of the story. Put a couple of loose ends to bed, that means I have to go back and cover Gina's tapes and Chapter 50 seemed an appropriate place to do it, after all…someone told me a LONG time ago that 50 was a nice round number (though I think that was to end the story on). Anyway, here it is, Chapter 50 and the return of those memory tapes…no pressure, no pressure, no pressure.

Enjoy.

**Chapter 50 – Gina Campbell Speaks**

_#1- Beginnings and Endings_

"_Hello Naomi love,_

_So you're watching this which means only one thing, I'm dead but as you can see I'm not totally gone; this is an ending, but it's also a beginning, in a different kind of way. I hope you read the note and you understand what I'm trying to do here. It's really hard to do this, I'm trying to reach out into the future so I can be with you through the important parts in your life, be with you in a way that I never was through the last few years. There's so much I want to share with you love, there are so many things that I still have to say to you and now I'm not going to get chance to do properly; so I've had to improvise. I've had to try and think of every moment in your life that I can be a part of in some way and leave you a tape for it, I've made a list, see? This is my list of the things of the things I want to talk to you about, I only hope I've got enough time to do them all before the inevitable happens._

_Look love, this is the first of many, but for me this is the most important one for you to see, this is the first message where I can try and pass on some wisdom to you at what I know is going to be a tough time for you._

_I'm really sorry this happened sweetheart, I really am, not because I've died, that was always going to happen one day, but because I know this is going to be an awful lot for you to deal with and there's not a lot in the kitty to deal with it with. The last few months have been hard on our finances and I know you've suffered the most. I know you thought about going to University, and I know you gave up on that dream when you found out I was sick. _

_So here's the deal love, I don't care about what happens to me, declare poverty and get the bloody Government to bury me or whatever, the bastards had most of everything I earned in tax over the years anyway, so the way I figure it is they owe me. Also, I don't really care what happens to me after I'm gone, the body I leave behind is just a shell and my spirit will always be with you no matter what happens to it. The last thing I want for you to do is to ruin your future for me, so don't worry about me Naomi, please._

_Now that we've sorted that out, I want to discuss something far more important to me; I know that this is going to seem ridiculous love but I want you to try not to grieve. Grieving is nothing more than feeling sorry for yourself, and I hope that I've taught you better than that; best foot forwards and follow your heart always remember?_

_Not exactly the greatest words of wisdom that I could have passed on, but ones that I think will serve you well if you hold onto them. You have a long life to enjoy Naomi, one that I know will be filled with great things, just have a bit of faith in yourself along the way. You've always made strong decisions throughout your life, but sometimes not great ones for _you_; one of my greatest regrets is that I contributed to your decision to lock yourself away, to follow your head and not your heart. Give yourself to your heart once and a while Naomi love, you might be surprised what you get as a reward; mother nature's good like that. Remember what I always told you love, try and make every single day that you spend on this earth special, because you're a long time dead darling, a very long time dead. I can honestly say that you have made my days so very, very special up to now and I only regret that I won't have that for much longer._

_Anyway love, I can't talk forever, Angie over there will kill me, and I do get tired…so very, very tired these days; and if I talk for too long to this bloody machine then I won't be able to stay awake when you come in to visit me, and I can't have that. I know you know how bad it really is. I've been trying to hide it from you as best I can, but you're a clever girl. I know I haven't got much time left, and I'm not going to waste the hours we have together with all of this nonsense, hence me doing these tapes, this way I can share your life in the present and do something for you as you get older. I hope you get to watch all of these tapes, that you allow me to share in your future in this silly little way, giving us the chance to be together at the key points of your life. What I do know is that wherever I am right now it's a better place than the one I was in; with the exception of having you around that is, but I also know that I'll be looking down at you with nothing _but_ love and pride._

_I'm so proud of you my little child of the moon and I love you so very, very much. The next tape I'm going to do is for your birthday, your eighteenth birthday, your very special day. I hope that you won't need it, and that I get to share that special day when you become a fully grown up woman in your own right. If that's not possible then I hope that you'll watch it, and I hope you have a fantastic day knowing that I'm with you always. I'll sign off now before I start crying and you think something is wrong when you come in later; I love you Naomi, remember that, and I'll see you really soon."_

o+o+o

I watched as she blew the camera a kiss and, as the screen went black on the laptop, I found my hands were frozen in my lap, totally stunned. It was like my mother had been back in the room with me, so absorbed had I been looking at her gaunt, wasted face on the screen and listening to her voice as she gave me her short message of love. It was like I was sat on that hard plastic chair in that sterile cold room once more, I could almost smell the antiseptic and the faint hint of despair that I associated with it.

It was a horrible feeling, and yet such a wonderful one as well. For a few brief moments Gina Campbell was speaking to me again and I had no idea how I was supposed to react. The emotions were churning my insides to buttermilk and I could feel my heart racing in my chest; it was only the close proximity of one Emily Fitch that was stopping me from getting off that sofa and running for the hills.

"Are you ok baby?" Emily asked finally breaking that painfully tight silence. I wanted to reply, but I didn't have any words, I found that I didn't have the ability to speak at all; staring at her goggle eyed as my brain fought for control.

"Breathe baby," I heard her say as she placed her hand on my chest, "please try to breathe."

With a gasp I released a breath I hadn't realised I'd been holding on to, and slowly tried to find myself again; striving to find my safe place, a place where I could get my brain back into gear once more.

"That's better Nomi, just like that," she said, her hand gently pressing, her voice reassuring. "Just breathe with me love, we'll be fine."

After a few minutes I was feeling just a little bit better, the feeling returning to my fingers, the numbness ebbing away. It was truly weird, after all these years to see and hear my mum, it drove home how much I missed her.

"Ok now?" Emily asked, hugging me tightly and laying her head on my chest.

"Yeah," I replied finding my voice at last. "It was just a bit of a shock you know? Seeing her again like that, I had no idea…"

"I can't even begin to imagine how it must have felt baby, I really can't. I wish I'd met her though, she seems a wonderful person."

"She was, she was truly wonderful," I confirmed, looking at the list of file names, the names and numbers faithfully reproduced on the screen as I remembered them from glancing at the tapes in the box.

Emily swung her feet onto the floor and reached up to kiss me on the cheek. "I think we need a cup of tea love," she said innocently as she got up to walk away. "I'll go and put the kettle on." It was such a familiar thing to hear, such a reminder of my mum's answer to all problems that I felt my eyes welling up and I bit down on my lip to hold back the tears.

It was only when I felt my face her buried into soft hair and a hard shoulder that I realised that I'd been totally unsuccessful, Emily hugging me tightly as I sobbed into her shoulder. We must have sat like that for five minutes before I cried myself out, Emily wiping my cheeks with her sleeve, looking at me sadly.

"Was it something _I _said?" she asked as I smiled at her; staring into those eyes that, like my mothers, looked at me full of love.

"You reminded me of her," I told her with a sigh, "with the cup of tea thing, it's exactly the sort of thing she would say in these circumstances; almost the same tone of voice as well."

"I'm sorry," she said seriously, frowning, and I smiled again, this time with a bit more feeling and pulled her face to mine so I could kiss her; feeling much better at our closeness, and the feel of her lips on mine.

"Don't be, it's just me being stupid that's all."

"I don't think you _could_ be stupid Nomi, especially not about this. Now would you like me to make you a cup of tea or would you prefer me not to?"

"Yeah, please, a cup of tea would be lovely," I said licking my lips as she kissed me again.

"I won't be a minute then, you wait right there."

I herd her bustling about in her tiny kitchen, wondering what kind of disaster I was likely to have to face; she really hadn't been kidding when she told me that she didn't spend much time in there, and some of the brews that she had made were bordering on undrinkable.

She really knew how to stew a pot of tea, that's for sure.

While I waited for her to come back, I took a deep breath, wiped my teary eyes, and double clicked on the second file; feeling that I would be ok watching something that was just over eight years past its date. As the screen began I smiled as I saw the image of my mum appear again, sat on her hospital bed wearing a party hat and blowing out a party streamer, the rough rasping sound of the 'whistle' the only sound. I felt yet another tear trickle from my eye as I saw her wave at the camera and I wiped it from my cheek quickly and settled back to watch.

o+o+o

_#2- Eighteenth_

"_Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you. Happy Birthday dear Naomi, Happy Birthday to you!_

_Stupid fucking thing; Angie, get me another streamer thing , this one's buggered…oh really? bugger; never mind then. _

_HAPPY EIGHTEENTH Naomi love, all grown up and ready for the world; but I do have to say that I wonder if the world is ready for you yet. _

_It doesn't seem like yesterday that I gave birth to you, the blink of an eye in fact; yet I remember every single second of it. I believe it's more than traditional for a proud mother to embarrass the fuck out of her poor daughter on her birthday so it's my dearest hope that you watch this tape right to the very end, and that you are watching it with all your friends so I can get maximum effect and they can get maximum value out of your humiliation._

_I remember thinking just after you were born how beautiful you were, how vivid those eyes of yours were and most of all how tight a grip you had. I can still feel how hard you gripped my finger, I don't think it ever did recover from being crushed like that, just look! _

_I had to get the midwife to help get you off you know, you really were a tough little thing. You were a noisy and demanding baby too, always clamouring for something or other, it took me a long time to get used to you I have to say, always crying whenever I tried to get a bit of time to myself. Then just as I truly got used to having you around you were off crawling, you'd found a tiny bit of independence and I could barely keep up with you from that moment on._

_I can recall the first word you said to me as clearly as if it were yesterday. I know I told you that your first word was 'Mummy', but I'm sure it will come as no surprise to anyone that knows you that your first word was actually 'No'. In fact I'm sure I should have made the world's future easier and had you adopted right then and there before I made you any more argumentative; you and I together, well we would have been unstoppable._

_We didn't always have an easy time of things Naomi, but then I'm sure that every family has its moments like ours, times where the teenage daughter hates her mother with a passion that seems all consuming and unrelenting; what I want you to know is that I loved you always, I never stopped loving you, and that I know you never stopped loving me either. We never discussed it but I know it's true, you're easy for me to read Naomi, and I know you never stopped loving me even in our darkest hours._

_Anyway, if I haven't embarrassed you enough here's the kicker, I've watched you grow up from a shitty arsed baby, through stampy footed brat into a sour faced pouty teenager that was always angry and claimed to hate the world and everyone in it. It's my greatest pleasure though to have seen you blossom from awkward, chubby youth into a strong beautiful woman, one that rarely wets the bed anymore, not unless she's been drinking heavily anyway._

_Embarrassed yet love? You know I have no doubt you're just laughing along with everyone that's watching this with you._

_So on your eighteenth birthday I want to celebrate the woman that's watching this screen now. The, intelligent, passionate, articulate woman with her whole future in front of her; and I know it's a bright future Naomi Easter Moonbeam Campbell, a very bright future indeed._

_Have a great eighteenth love, have a drink for me, enjoy your day and remember I love you always. Happy Birthday darling, here's a few things to remind you of who you are."_

o+o+o

I stared at the screen with a sad smile on my face as picture after picture of me, or my mum, or of us both appeared on the screen. One after the other, pictures from my birth to our last Christmas together flashed past, three pictures in particular caught my eye; three pictures that now graced the wall of my girlfriends flat for no other reason than she wanted it to feel like a home to me.

Mum was right, even in death; it was good to follow your heart, and mother nature sometimes did surprise you.

"You were a cute baby you know," I heard Emily say as the clip ended with a picture of my mum holding a baby in a hospital bed, the irony of our beginning and ending being in one of those beds not escaping me; "a cute teenager too, I wish I'd known you back then, I can't believe that we went to school so close to each other."

"and so far apart too Emily," I said looking up at her as she handed me the cup of steaming tea, "you'd never have spoken to someone like me; we were from two different worlds."

"I might have," she said putting down her cup and snuggling into me again, "but you're probably right. But then you wouldn't have spoken to one of those 'stuck-up bitches' fro Cheltenham Ladies either would you? Especially if you were as angry with the world as your mother said you were."

"Oh I was," I replied nodding and smiling. "I was a proper bitch when I was growing up, you would have hated me; I would have made your sister look like Bambi."

"But loving too babe, just like you are now; your mum pretty much said so and she obviously adored you so you can't have been that bad."

"Maybe not, but then she did have a lot of patience for wastrels and people with hard luck stories; I got bullied like fuck for it at school."

"What because your mum liked to help people out?" Emily asked, seemingly aghast at this behaviour.

"You know Cheltenham hun, even in the less than posh parts they were still a bit stuck up, or at least that's how it seemed to me anyway. I fucking hated the lot of them, that's why I was so angry all the time, having the constant knowledge that people were looking down their noses at me and my mum."

"Yeah, it had its moments," she agreed as I wrapped my arm around her once more. "Right pair aren't we? Both bullied at school, both hate posh people…"

"I don't hate _all_ posh people," I interrupted quickly, "there are a couple I can think of that I'm very fond of."

"Who were they babe," she said snuggling in closer and forcing her arms around my waist, her tea forgotten. I squeezed her tightly as a response.

"Well, there's you and you mum for starters," I said grinning, "you're both posh and I'm very fond of both of you."

"Me?" she said sounding outraged, twisting to look up at me. "I'm not _posh_ Nomi, I told you that; Jesus, I got bullied at school because I _wasn't_ posh, not like the other girls."

"It's a matter of perspective I guess baby, to me you're posh and I love it; after all, if you weren't a bit posh you wouldn't need a CPO, and if you didn't need a CPO we would never have met."

"Well when you put it that way love," she replied laughing at my salvaging of the situation. "I'm glad I am posh; even if I'm not."

She snuggled back into my arms, burrowing into me. "Are you going to watch any more of these today?"

"Yeah, I think so…, a couple at least. I think some of them aren't appropriate for me to watch yet though."

"Mmmm," she murmured twisting again to look at the large screen, "I see she's even done a couple for your wedding day."

"Yeah, they might be fun to watch, just for a laugh; dotty old cow knew I wasn't likely to get married."

"Well I don't think you should," Ems said firmly, "your mum made all of these tapes for your benefit, I think you should watch them the way they were intended, before or during the events."

"Well I don't think I'll be watching tape twenty one Ems," I said confidently, smiling as she shifted forward to squint at the screen.

"I bloody hope not," she said laughing and elbowing me in the side as she settled back on the sofa and picking up her drink again, "'_boyfriend'_ indeed, I'm going off your mother now."

"She was probably covering all bases love, she was always very thorough; do you want me to delete it? Remove any possible temptation?"

"NO!" She exclaimed laughing as I half heartedly reached out towards the keyboard, nearly causing her to spill her tea. "Don't you _dare_ delete any of these messages your mum did for you, you'll only regret it."

"I'm kidding Ems, do you want to watch tape twenty the, the '_girlfriend'_ one, see what words of wisdom my mum has for you, or about you?"

"Later babe, if you feel it's right; you should watch the ones that mean something to you first."

"Well, I do want to see what she has to say to me about it, but I want to see that Christmas one first; if you don't mind me watching it that is."

Emily looked at me appraisingly her lips hidden by the cup that she has hiding behind. I knew she was smirking at me and I raised an eyebrow questioningly, a look of warning on my face.

"Yes?" Emily said guiltily, I guess knowing that I'd rumbled her amusement, "Can I help you?"

"You can explain that look Miss Fitch," I said smiling. "That would help _you_ a lot."

"I'm sorry, I can't help it if you don't come across as the sort of person that gets all giddy over Christmas," she said sniggering at me finally.

"I used to love it a lot, not so much any more though."

"I guess not, I suppose you wouldn't have much time for Christmas in the Army."

I chuckled to myself as I remembered the many times that we'd celebrated Christmas in the CPU. Usually seriously heavy drinking sessions when we were home, cheesy 'ceremonies' when we were on tour; though I did spend a good part of my day at that time of year trying to avoid the chaplain, making sure he didn't try to drag me along to Christmas prayers. The weirdest thing I had experienced though, in my entire time in the Army, was listening to the lads singing their own Christmas carols in the back of an APC in the desert; though admittedly that was in August.

"What's so funny Nomi?" Emily asked bringing me back from the image of Whitey bellowing out 'Oh come all ye faithful' when it was forty degrees in the shade, placing the emphasis on words that were more akin to sexual prowess than religious celebration, followed by a rousing rendition of the twelve days of Christmas with a set of words that certainly wouldn't be found in the hymn book of your local church; not unless it was a very liberal church, a very liberal church indeed; the guys singing about those twelve maids doing something that certainly couldn't be considered _'a milking'_, well not cows anyway.

I still can't hear that fucking carol without singing _'five cock rings'_ in my head, bastards that they were.

"Nothing Ems, just memories," I told her blinking and smiling, "memories of all those Christmases I didn't have time for in the Army."

"Ok, ok…so you did have time," she said shoving me playfully, "I told you I don't like the people in the Army; I have no idea what they do, nor do I care."

"All people in the army?" I asked raising my eyebrow again.

"Ok, only the tossers," she replied grinning at my look, "perhaps _some_ of the people that were in the Army were nice, well you and James anyway. So go on then, why don't you love Christmas any more? Is it because of your mum?"

"Yeah," I said, finding the words surprisingly easy to say, "after our last Christmas together I really didn't have the sprit for it any more. Mum and I weren't religious, but Christmas was our family time, it was pretty special for us, it just wasn't the same after she died," I added sadly.

"So why don't you put the tape on then baby, see what your mum had to say about it."

It was funny to hear the enthusiasm for this in her voice, her desire for me to connect once more with my mother in some way. As she put her cup down onto the coffee table and sat back I pulled her into a hug and kissed her forehead.

"What was that for," she said as I released her, looking pleased.

"Just thanks, thanks for doing this," I told her, the wonderful feeling of being loved washing over me. Perhaps it was her, perhaps it was us, perhaps it was just me being a twat because I'd seen my mum for the first time in over eight years. It didn't really matter what had caused it, I felt loved for the first time in all that time; unconditionally loved, loved for who I was.

"It was my pleasure love, I'm glad I could do something good for you."

"You do lots of good things for me Ems," I replied cheekily, trying to lighten the mood slightly.

"Play the tape Nomi," Ems replied shaking her head in mock despair.

"Yes dear."

o+o+o

_#11 – Christmas_

"_Jingle bells, Jingle Bells, Jingle all the waaaayyyyyy… Oh what fun it is to ride on a one horse open sleigh…why are you making me sing this Angie? What a load of fucking bollocks, she'll hate me for this…do you want that on your conscience Angie, my daughter hating me for the rest of her life because you wanted me to sing a Christmas carol on this tape?_

_Ok, Ok, I'll admit it was my idea…it was my idea to sing the carol Naomi. Are you happy now? Oh shut up and operate the camera Angie, really what do I pay you for?_

_Anyway, annoying nurses aside…Yuletide greetings Naomi, as you can see we're having a bit of fun here today because Angie reminded me that I should do a tape about Christmas…now before you turn it off I mean _our_ Christmas celebrations ok? Not the shit that we hate, I might be sick, but I'm not sick in the head!_

_I want you to know something Naomi, last Christmas was very special for me; you made it incredibly special you know that? If you didn't; I want you to know it now. All that effort you went to made the entire day very, very wonderful; and that present meant more to me than anything else you could have done. It was thoughtful, it was beautiful and it was simply perfect; I love it to bits, in fact I have it here with me now, it means I can have you with me even when you can't be here._

_Right, so we need to deal with this whole Christmas thing; I know I told you that no matter where you are in the world you are I want you home for Christmas, well that doesn't look like it's going to happen any more, and I'm sure you knew it as much as I did. _

_So here's my message to you for this time of year, keep our spirit alive Naomi dear, raise a glass of something expensive and nice to us and remember that we had some very good times despite all the commercialised pseudo-religious bullshit. _

_Remember that for thousands of years it's been a special time of year, a time when families come together and thank the Gods for what has gone before and for what they have to look forward to in the year to come. I want you to remember that for when you have a family, however small. Whether it's you and one other person, or you having your family of your own, I want you to keep on giving thanks for all you've received. Keep up the history Naomi love, keep it up and try to remember me when you do it, that's what traditions are about._

_We had some great times at Christmas love, and I want you to keep doing that, please don't lose sight of what we had as time goes on…and don't tell me you won't because I know what you're like. I bet you've done no planning for this, your first Christmas on your own, and that's not good enough…I want at least a Yule log organising Naomi, and perhaps it wouldn't be too much to ask for you to light a candle or two like we used to? You could even put out a glass of something for me, like you used to do for Father Christmas, I think I'd like that; after all I sent years drinking that foul sherry you used to make me leave out with the mince pies._

_I think that would be really appropriate, remember I'm looking down on you dear, I'll know if you don't do it!_

_So here's the deal Naomi, do this for me…at some point on Christmas Eve or Christmas day, when you have the time, put this tape on again and share a few minutes with me. Wherever you are in the world let me be a part of your Christmas, just like when I was alive and able to make it happen myself._

_Merry Christmas, Joyous Yuletide and all of that Naomi love, may your New Year be filled with happiness….cheers!"_

o+o+o

"I never did you know," I said to Emily as the screen went black again; my voice choked as I repeated what I had told her before. "I never did celebrate Christmas again after she died, not in the same way; I just couldn't do it."

"You didn't know though Nomi, I'm sure she'll understand."

"Yeah," I agreed, "she totally would, still makes me feel bad though. I should have watched these when she intended, should have known they'd be important."

"Nomi?" Emily said, causing me to twist around to look at her, those glorious eyes staring back at me, "you didn't know any of this until today, you can't begin blaming yourself for not following her wishes without ever knowing what they were; and you can't blame yourself for not watching these tapes either. You were seventeen babe and your mother had just died; you had a lot to deal with."

"Perhaps," I agreed half heartedly, still feeling that I'd betrayed mum in some serious way.

"Perhaps nothing," she said a firmness in her voice that was tinged with sympathy. "You know I'm right; besides, she'd forgive you anything, she loves you to bits; you can totally see that in these tapes."

"Yeah," I said, not wanting to have an argument about something so obvious; the guilt was still there, but Emily was right as usual. There was no point blaming myself for things I have no control over; it was something I'd spent a lot of time discussing with Joanna in our sessions, guilt. Joanna was firmly of the belief that guilt was behind everything that had been affecting me; guilt about mum, guilt about Paul, guilt about just about fucking everything.

"_It's like you need your guilt Naomi, you want to hold onto it, polish it, cherish it almost," _she had said to me in a session before we left for America. _"We're going to have to work on that."_

"_What 'letting it go'?"_ I'd said slightly sarcastically, waiting for the classic therapists line.

"_Well I was more thinking about not adding to it,"_ she'd said quietly, making me think. _"Do you feel guilty about your relationship with Emily?"_

"_Not particularly," _I'd replied with certainty, _"we've worked out what we need to and I'm quite comfortable with that."_

"_Well that's an improvement Naomi, definitely an improvement."_

"_Thanks."_

"Do you want to see what she has to say about me then Nomi?" Emily asked nudging me from my internalisation, "Put on tape twenty?"

"Yeah, why not," I said cracking a smile. "Might be a laugh to see what she has to say about a girlfriend of mine. I think I need a drink first though."

"You've hardly touched the one I made you," she said indignantly, gesturing at my still practically full cup.

"Yeah, there's a reason for that love," I told her as I stood up, collected our cups and walked out into the kitchen.

"What's that?" she called after me, "something to do with your mother and tea? Something about these tapes?"

"Nah," I said poking my head around the doorway from the little hall. "It's mainly because you make tea like you cook…really fucking badly."

"You bitch," she shouted, scrambling from the sofa to chase me as I laughed and ran as fast as my feet could carry me. I'd barely managed to close my bedroom door when there was a loud thud as Emily slammed into it, followed by the pounding of fists on the wooden panels. "Let me in Campbell," she shouted through my barricade. "I'll make you eat those words."

"Well they'll probably taste better than your cooking dear," I teased, enjoying the sound of laughter in what was supposed to be her affronted voice.

"Open this door right now Naomi!"

"Well that wouldn't be tactically sound now would it?" I said walking away from the door and flopping down onto the bed. "How many times have I told you that anything between you and your assailant is an advantage, especially a door?"

"I'm going to make you regret insulting my tea making skills Naomi Campbell, I can sit outside all night if I need to; there was nothing wrong with that cuppa and you know it."

"Ems, how long did you leave the teabag in for? That brew was so strong it practically needed chewing, I had to use the spoon to chisel off the crust."

"Will you quit taking the piss and open this door Campbell," she laughed, still pounding on the frame, "stop being an arse."

"Doors not locked Ems," I said sitting up and readying myself just in case. "You really should learn to check these things."

The pounding stopped abruptly and the handle turned, the door opening slowly to reveal a sheepish looking Emily Fitch.

"Didn't even think about actually _trying_ to open the door," she admitted as she walked over to me. "I was sure you would have locked it."

"Always try the obvious Ems," I told her as she perched herself on my lap, her arms reaching around my neck and toying with my hair. "Sometimes the most obvious thing to do is the best."

"I'll remember that," she said winking at mw; "anyway, I didn't know you could do subtle; I thought you were a 'kick in the door' kind of girl."

"I can be subtle as well you know," I told her as she pushed her lips tantalisingly close to mine, holding us apart by a fraction of a millimetre; her soft, warm breath tickling my face. "Sometimes."

"So can I…" she said suddenly tugging at my t-shirt, pulling it over my head and throwing it across the room; she looked at me hungrily for a second before pushing me backwards and stripping off her own shirt, sending it after mine to land in the corner.

"…sometimes," she finished lowering herself on to me.

She was right.

o+o+o

The sun was setting as we settled down on the sofa once more, freshly brewed and drinkable cups of tea in hand. I'd dragged a protesting Emily out of bed and into the kitchen, promising her how to make a decent cup of tea. I nearly fucked it up myself this time though, her delicious arse a terrible distraction when covered only by a large t-shirt. A large t-shirt that rose up an awful lot as I asked her to reach for item after item from the shelves.

Finally though, and much to my regret, I had to admit defeat and send her to pull some clothes on; her cheeky grin telling me she knew exactly what I'd been doing. I poured the milk into the cups with a smile before following her into the bedroom to pick up my clothes, dressing quickly under the longing gaze of my girl.

"You ready?" Ems asked as we sat down again, laying her hand on my thigh; "lets see what she has to say about your girlfriend shall we?"

"Yes let's," I replied, sitting back and taking a breath. Ems smiled and clicked on the video, sitting back next to me as my mums pale face appeared on the screen once more.

o+o+o

_#20 – Girlfriend_

"_Hello again Naomi, I really hope that you're happy and well and all loved up…I assume you are anyway otherwise you'd never look at this tape, would you?_

_Anyway, I realised that I hadn't ever had to give you the benefit of my years of experience in relationships; and yes that was a joke before you start snorting and rolling your eyes. What I really wanted to do was talk to you about being in a relationship, and then get five minutes with your new girlfriend if you're serious about her enough to want her to "talk" to me._

_You see Naomi I know you were a difficult teenager, and I'm worried that all of the problems that you, and we, had along the way might affect you, and that you might find yourself looking for advice in the wrong places…most probably from inside that head of yours. Trust me Naomi, if you're still anything like the girl I brought up, the last place you want to go looking for advice is inside yourself ok?_

_So, if I assume you're watching this because you find yourself in a relationship, I have the following things to ask; do you love her, and are you serious about her?_

_Now you're probably sitting there thinking that I'm a dotty old bat and that I'm asking you the same thing, but I assure you I'm not, I'm asking you the two most important questions I can think of. Firstly are you serious about her? _

_I suspect you've already decided that you are serious about this girl, well if you're going to let her see the rest of this tape you are, but I just want to check. By serious I mean that you're committed to her, want to be with her, find yourself at the very least happy in her presence? Without that commitment Naomi, nothing will ever work…I think we both know that._

_Secondly dear, are you in love? because you can be serious about someone and not be in love with them at all. Though I suspect you know that too. You probably want to ask me how do you know if you're in love, right? Well, I'm afraid I don't have a definite answer for you little one, all I can really give you are questions._

_Is every part of your heart dedicated to this girl, would you give everything you have for her, would you give up everything you hold dear for her? Do you ache when you're not with her, do you worry about her every second that you're not together and do you get angry when she does something to hurt your feelings because you feel she's betrayed you? Does your stomach turn flips when you're with her, does your world feel emptier when she's not around?_

_That's love Naomi, or at least it's a part of it. Love can't really be encapsulated in words like this, love can only be described by feelings and I know that you live by your feelings Naomi, all I ask you to do is trust them, not question them…can you do that for me, for you, for her?_

_So that's my advice on what I mean by love and commitment, the best I can do anyway. Now what I can tell you with some confidence is that if you have one, or the other, that's nothing really special. Love without commitment is empty, commitment without love is emptier still. But if you have both, and I feel that you might well think you have if you're still listening, well it's a wonderful thing; something that should be cherished forever. _

_Don't be scared of it Naomi, you have to give yourself to it totally in order that you can truly appreciate, enjoy and cherish what you have with this other person._

_Now that's a lot to take in I know, especially for you, so what I want you to do is this; put this tape on pause and sit the lady in your life down on a chair and let her watch the rest of this message while you bugger off and think about the following question…do you cherish this girl? Do you love her, do you _truly_ love her; and most of all do you see yourself being with her for the rest of your life? Think on that while we talk…now run along love, bring her in._

o+o+o

"I don't think I was supposed to see that part babes," Emily said as I leaned forward and paused the video file on the computer. "I think that was for you alone."

"I think you may be right," I said, my brain still reeling at my mothers words, words that affected me from beyond the grave. "I'll, er…I'll leave you to it."

"You sure babe?" she asked as I stood up and kissed her.

"Yeah, she wants to talk to you without me watching hun, I think I should respect that; I really think you should be on your own with her."

"Ok babe, if you're sure. Do you want me to shout you when it's over?"

"Please, then I'll make us dinner or something." I said walking into the hallway.

"We'll order out babe," Emily shouted as I walked towards my room, thinking that I'd hide in there, "my treat!"

I shouted my agreement and then, as I heard the speakers on the computer fire up once more, I squatted down outside the doorway and decided to do some _'information gathering'_ as I preferred to call eavesdropping. As I strained my ears I heard the sound of my mothers voice ring out again, and the creak of material as Emily settled back on the sofa to listen.

o+o+o

"_Hello dear, my name is Gina and I'm Naomi's mother, though I hope you already know that, if you don't know that then we're in worse shape than I thought. Right, we need to have words; I assume you're probably far more used to having this kind of talk face to face, rather than like this, but as you know this is the best I can do. _

_This is the point where I suppose I'm supposed to warn you about hurting my daughter, so here it is; no matter who, or what, you think Naomi is, I know she's a sensitive soul. She deserves the best, so if you're fucking with her in any way I expect you to piss off now and leave her to find someone that's worth her effort…_

…_still here? Well good, perhaps you are the one to make her happy. Let me tell you something dear, my Naomi is a complicated girl, she's capable of so much love, but she's subject to so much pain as well. If you're the right person for her, she'll give you just about everything she has to give, and if she does that you'll have the ability to hurt her more than any other person on the planet._

_So I suppose my role here is to try and help you understand my daughter, well that's going to be difficult as I recorded this when she was seventeen; even so, I don't think much will have changed. A leopard never changes its spots and neither does my daughter. Let me just repeat this, stress it to you if you like, my daughter has a capacity for love that is larger than anyone else's I have ever known. You seem to be the lucky person that has managed to tap into that love somehow and I'm really happy for you, she's a wonderful, beautiful person; though I know as her mother I would say that wouldn't I?_

_What I need you to know is that, she doesn't always show get love in the best ways possible; she's not a touchy feely person for example, I doubt she's going to be the sort of girlfriend that's going to be all affectionate in public. She's also going to spend a lot of time in her head, she's quite the thinker my daughter, and sometimes she can forget people are around; but please, don't let that put you off. For you to get to this point means something quite special and I hope you appreciate just how privileged you are; you've got my daughters heart._

_Of course that means we have to have words, and I'm told it's sort of traditional that they should be threatening words…though to be realistic any threats I may give you are a bit meaningless given that I'm dead; but let me tell you this, do not play with her affections, do not break her heart…basically don't hurt her, or I'll come back and haunt you!_

_Seriously though, please don't fuck her about, as I say she's a sensitive soul really and you have the capacity to do her great damage. If something happens that means you want to end what you have, please just be honest with her; lying and cheating will probably hurt her more than anything else you could possibly do. She doesn't deserve that, my daughter, she deserves to give her love to someone that can love her back unconditionally. If you can't accept her for who and what she is, if you can't love her without wanting to change her, then I think you should walk away right now; she'll only resent your actions and eventually you'll fall apart. In fact she'll probably be the one to push you both apart and I'm afraid that you'll probably both walk away from your relationship with scars. You probably know that my daughter can bark, but let me tell you, her bite is just as dangerous; trust me…I know, I have the scars as well._

_If you can love her for who she is…well, be prepared for the ride of your life. It won't always be easy, but then nothing worthwhile ever is; and worthwhile it will be, I assure you of that. I watched Naomi as she grew up into a wonderful woman and I know she will only have got better with age. She's stubborn though, so stubborn that I know she's not far away right now; probably listening intently to see if you say anything that will give her any idea on how you're reacting to what I've said; probably wondering if she should stay or start running._

_She runs a lot does my Naomi, I hope you're prepared to run after her; I hope that you're fast enough to catch her, or faithful enough to make her want to turn right around and come back to you._

_I wish I could have known you, whoever you are; please treat my baby well. Now if I were you I'd call her in so you can have a chat, make sure you're both ok, and that this little tape hasn't ruined anything you might have. I hope that, if anything, I've managed to make you stronger than you were; now you know my Naomi a little better that is._

_Tell her I love her, in fact I love you both; be happy._

o+o+o

"Nomi, are you ok?" I heard Emily ask from the doorway. She cut a blurry figure as she walked toward me and squatted down. "I take it she was right, you listened in didn't you? I heard you crying when it finished."

She kissed the top of my head as I nodded. "She knew you very well didn't she?"

"Yeah," I said sniffing and blinking rapidly to clear my vision, "she was my mum and my best friend for so long; I miss her a lot."

"Well now you have her back, in some small way, it's not the same I know, it'll never be the same…"

"…but it's better than what I had," I interrupted, "a few photographs, a lot of memories and a grave. I'd almost forgotten what she sounded like you know? It's been so long since I actually heard her voice."

"Are you going to be all right though babes? This is all a lot to take in, and... "

"…I'll be fine love," I told her, interrupting her worrying, feeling confident that it was the truth.

"Well if you're sure," she replied, standing and holding out her hands to me.

"I'm sure," I said taking them.

"She's right you know, your mum, you really are a very special person," she said hauling me to my feet; "but she was wrong about one thing though."

"What was that then?" I asked, suddenly curious as she led me back into the living room and sat me down on the sofa. Wondering what my mother could possibly had got wrong about me in Emily's eyes.

"She said you're not very affectionate, not very touchy feely, you seem pretty touchy feely to me; in public as well as in private, when you don't have to put that CPO mask on of yours that is."

"Yeah well, perhaps I just like touching you hun," I said pulling her down onto me and running my fingers down her side; "perhaps I quite like feeling you too."

"Perhaps you're a different woman to the one she knew?" she said, reaching up to run her soft fingers down my cheek.

"No, she got it spot on babe," I explained; "with one minor flaw to her argument."

"What was that love?" Ems asked as I kissed her fingers as they traced my lips, ticking slightly.

"She never knew you."

.

.

.

**Authors Note **– I am *so* glad that is now over, originally it was going to be a lot longer, but I'm glad that it isn't, I think it works better like this…less in this case is more.

Ok, to clear up one thing before I'm asked; in my head tape #21, (the 'missing tape' as it shall now be known because it was never going to be written about), is simply the same as tape #20, except perhaps a bit harder in tone as Gina spoke to Naomi's possible boyfriend.

However, I have been supplied an alternative by vangoghgurrl who proofed this chapter for me, (because I was being all paranoid about it), so this is how it would have gone if she'd had her way.

o+o+o

_#21 – Boyfriend_

"_Naomi love, you are SO gay."_

o+o+o

Thanks for that M, I'll leave it to you lot to decide which one you like the best (-:

One more bit of news, if you remember I mentioned I'd written a story for the Skins Big Bang over on LiveJournal, it'll probably get put up here at some point, but if you can't wait until then it's going live on the 11th with some artwork and stuff by the lovely Shan….I'm excited to see it published finally, it's one piece of writing I'm actually quite proud of, (shut up you two!).

Anyway, until next week have fun and don't do anything I wouldn't do.

Es


	51. Ghosts From The Past

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness, a heavy case of writers block and a ex I could happily put in the Basement with Naomi right now!

I still nothing to do with Skins, (but then do we care about Skins any more?).

**Authors Note: **Er, a couple of things to cover here today, just before we start. Firstly thank you to those of you that spared the time to write and tell me that you enjoyed chapter 50, for some strange reason I was really paranoid about it, I guess, in some way, I didn't want to let Gina down.

Secondly, apologies for those of you that thought I meant CP not the chapter at the end, CP has a fair way to go yet.

Finally, and only because I get a chance to do so, thank you for those that read and reviewed my latest story (_Let Me Show You_…) especially to those of you that left such *long* reviews about it. I'm kinda proud of it, I don't know why.

Anyway, here we are at Chapter 51, as always, enjoy.

**Chapter 51 – Ghosts From The Past**

It had taken me well into the following week before I'd come to terms with Emily's little present. It wasn't that those videos of my mum had affected me dramatically, not after all this time anyway. It was just a gnawing sense of loss that had popped its head into my firing line; a gnawing sense of loss that had become dulled over the years but had never really gone away.

It had been an awkward few days as well, Emily and I dancing around each other; both of us unconsciously on tenterhooks. I think Emily was feeling a little bit guilty that she'd brought some of my bad old memories back, and I was desperate to show her that I was nothing but grateful for her thoughtfulness.

We'd sorted it out though, dinner at Emily favourite Italian restaurant on the Wednesday night proving the catalyst for us to actually talk about things. She'd asked me directly, over the starter, about how I was feeling, and to my surprise I'd found it very easy to talk to her about it.

It was good to talk, and it cleared the air between us and allowed us to move forward, the awkwardness disappearing over dessert and on our walk home.

I'd watched a few more of those tapes during that week, listening to my mum giving me advice on subjects as diverse as going on holiday and the things I should and shouldn't do at a job interview. It was funny to hear her talk of such mundane things, it was funnier still to realise that I'd ignored most of her advice without ever knowing it; some things never change I guess, I'd been ignoring her most of my life. It was also quite good that I was a lot older, I knew an eighteen year old Naomi Campbell would have scorned the advice, whether it was on a tape or face to face; a twenty six year old Naomi saw something in her mothers words, something valuable, something to cherish.

There had been two sayings that I'd lived my life by up to this point, and they both came from my mother, it looks like they weren't going to be the last; I had hours and hours of stuff to listen to, when the time was right, hours and hours of her little suggestions and insights that she had loved me enough to want to share from beyond the grave. The trouble was, as fantastic as it was to 'see' my mother again, it had opened the floodgates for a lot of other issues; and it was on a warm but wet Thursday evening that poor old Joanna got drowned.

"So tell me Naomi, do you still see yourself as personally responsible for these deaths?"

"Sort of," I admitted nodding my head. We'd spent the last hour going through my jumbled thoughts, issues to do with the deaths of my mother, Whitey, McClair, Laffiete, Adams and even Grouch. She'd helped me to shuffle the memories around and place them into some sort of structure to help he break them down; and break them down we did, each death analysed in detail to determine exactly why I felt some associated form of guilt.

"Do you know why you still feel guilty?"

"Not really," I answered; this was a strange feeling, for years I'd felt guilty about the deaths that occurred around me, blamed myself for everything that happened. We'd spent a while in our sessions discussing how I felt and why, Joanna seeing my mothers death as a larger trigger for all that came after. We'd established that I'd felt guilty because of mum's death mainly because I'd smoked around her at home and because I'd been a total bitch to her for so long; I felt guilty about Whitey because, well, I still had the feeling that I should have gone first, even though that illusion of mine had been burst. I felt guilty about the boys in Gereshk because I should have done better, I should have advised the Captain to get us air cover. Even with our examinations of the events themselves, for some reason the guilt was still lingering in the background of my mind, though my need to blame myself was beginning to fade away.

"When you say not really, Naomi what do you mean?" Joanna asked, her fingers twitching.

"I mean I don't really know…" I paused as she looked at me, taking a sip of the ever present herbal tea. "I think, at least, it's a bit easier to hang on to what I know; does that make sense?"

"That's an interesting observation Naomi; and most unlike you if you don't mind me saying. Did Emily tell you that by any chance."

"No," I defended myself, before deciding to come clean. "It was something my mum said on one of her tapes, she said I tend to hold onto things, though she said it was mostly grudges when I was growing up."

"She told you that?"

"Yeah, gave me a bollocking from beyond the grave. Ems thought it was funny, she said mum was right, that it was just like me."

"Emily knows you well, how are the nightmares right now, have they got worse since you saw the tapes by any chance?"

I thought about it for a second before shaking my head, I couldn't remember the last time I'd had a nightmare; I certainly didn't remember the last time I'd woken up screaming anyway.

"I think your mind may be forgiving you Naomi," she said when I confessed my ignorance of the very thing that sent me here.

"I think it's Emily," I said honestly causing her to raise an eyebrow. "I don't think I've had a nightmare since we, well, since we…"

"Started sleeping together," Joanna finished for me. I simply nodded in reply.

"Well we have discussed this before I think, Emily's ability to bring you out of the pain, is that what you think is happening?"

"Maybe," I admitted. She was right, we had discussed it over our time; the fact that it had been Emily's voice that had twice dragged me from the nightmare, that it had been Emily's touch that took away the pain.

"Well I think there's more to it than just that Naomi, I think you've been making real progress yourself as I've said; massive progress in fact." She paused for a second as if thinking and then leaned forward to stare at me before speaking again. "If you think you're ready to Naomi, I'd like you to take another step towards dealing with your past."

"What's that?" I asked, a ball of ice forming in my stomach; a ball of ice that steadily turned into a glacier as she explained what she'd like me to do. Just like the last time, when she'd asked me to go and confess my feelings to Emily, the thought of her little project filled me with dread; but she was right, it was long past time to do what needed to be done.

o+o+o

Are you sure you want to do this Nomi?" Emily asked as I climbed into the passenger seat of the Range Rover she had commandeered for us once again.

"No," I admitted, "not at all. But then I wasn't sure the last time she gave me 'homework' either, remember?"

"Yeah," she said clicking her seatbelt in place firmly, adjusting the shoulder strap until it was comfortable. "But that worked out pretty well." Her hand snaked across the centre console and touched my arm, the fingers squeezing gently; "At least I thought it worked out pretty well…we can stop any time you want to you know, any time at all, you don't have to do this if you think you're not ready."

"Yeah I know," I said starting the engine and putting the car into gear. "She's right though, this is something I need to do; I need to deal with my past and stop putting things off because they're hard to do. I'm glad you're with me though Ems, I'm not sure I could do it without you."

"Sure you could," she said smiling as we pulled out into the early morning traffic, "you're my big brave CPO."

I grinned despite myself and flicked on the cars CD player, Emily's choice of music filling the cab with Plan B's 'Love Goes Down'; it wasn't really my taste, but Emily seemed to like it, joining in happily as I drove out towards Enfield and the M25.

An hour and a bit later we were pulling up in the car park of our destination; Emily continuing her singing, this time to my choice of songs. It didn't seem to matter that she didn't actually know any of the words, she just seemed happy to sing along; normally a heartbeat behind the singer, or to my amusement, trying to guess the words as she went along. This had resulted a couple of 'innocently obscene' outcomes that had caused her to blush bright red when I laughed at her mistakes. It was fun and it took me away from the reality of what I was about to do, if only for a little while.

"Are we here already?" Emily said suddenly shutting up and becoming sombre as she looked out of the window.

"Yeah, we're here," I replied, looking out at the large granite stone carved with the words Chelmsford Cemetery; "we just need to find the grave now."

I rooted around in my small shoulder bag and drew out the print off of the e-mail I'd received to my request. Helpfully, the person had sent it had included a map with a small circle that indicated the general area in which the grave I was searching for could be found, and that would make our search easier.

As we made our way across the site towards the south corner I was reminded how much I hated these places. This was only the second cemetery I'd been to in my life, mums grave being the only thing that had ever given me the courage to enter one before. I'd hated the idea of cemeteries since I was a young child, from the first time I'd asked mum what the crosses that lurked behind the wall we walked along on our way to my school meant; and why there were so many of them. I'd stared in horror at the stone markers that identified the holes filled with the dead as mum walked me by, unable to drag my tear filled eyes away; we never walked that way to school again, I couldn't face it; mum understanding my childhood fears.

I'd seen so much death since then, from the quiet slipping away of my mother to the brutal annihilation of man, woman and child in Iraq and Afghanistan. Death held no fears for me any more, but I still didn't like the idea of the cemetery; though I didn't have to like it to come here, didn't have to like it to do the right thing.

"OK babe?" Emily said as she grabbed my hand, her presence as soothing as the cool breeze that was cutting through the heat of a scorching day.

"Yeah," I replied noncommittally, squinting through the bright sunlight at the rows of gravestones that filled the area on my map; there was no 'X marks the spot' here though, no pirates treasure to discover. Only a sad marker for a person that didn't deserve to die, a man that I had and still did think of as my friend.

We walked through the rows, hand in hand; silently searching for the one stone that would identify Paul's grave from all the others, scanning for his name. We finally found him in the far corner, in a quiet spot that was close to the boundary wall. It was funny, I thought, it was probably the last place he would have chosen for his final resting place, yet in a way it seemed perfectly fitting; it was a nice spot, he deserved a nice place to sleep.

I knelt down and ran my fingers across the name that was carved into the stone; _'Paul Mark White'_ the name really didn't do him justice though. He was far more than just Paul Mark White, he was 'Whitey', he was my friend and to see him reduced to just three words on a stone hurt me more than I imagined it would; hurt me so much I could feel my chest tighten as I traced each and every one of the letters, the physical reaction to my mental pain a familiar feeling.

"Do you want a minute alone?" Emily said as I squeezed her fingers and let them go; laying the bunch of flowers I'd brought with me down onto the grass, absently picking off some dead leaves and putting them to one side.

"If you don't mind," I said she rested her hand on my shoulder, "I think I might need one."

I took a deep breath and prepared myself, mentally building up the defences that I knew I'd need to survive this assault on my memories. One big trench to stop the feelings overwhelming me, a roll of barbed wire to stop the regrets rushing me and one small minefield to make sure the guilt couldn't retake my camp.

I dug myself in and prepared for the pain that I knew was to come, holding on to Emily's touch to strengthen me.

"I'll be over here then, "Emily said gesturing behind us to a shady tree.

"Would you mind going that way Ems?" I asked gesturing towards the wall and a bench situated in a secluded nook that was well within my eye line, "where I can see you, just in case?"

"Of course," she said squeezing my shoulder; "I'll wait over there then, call me when you're ready ok?"

"I will, thanks," I said, watching her out of the corner of my eye as she walked over to the wall, pulling a book from her bag as she sat down.

"That's my girl Paul," I whispered as I moved around my flowers, spreading them out across the grave as neatly as I could. "If you could see her I'm sure you'd tell me that I'm still batting above my average you know?"

I sighed as the memory of our last conversation popped up in my head unbidden, a chat about another girl, a chat we never really got to finish, interrupted by a snipers bullet.

"Look mate, you know I think all of this sort of thing is bullshit, you know that I was never convinced with this whole 'talking to the dead' thing. The truth is I'm pretty sure I'm not supposed to be talking to you, I'm sure I'm really supposed to be talking to me; my therapist thinks I need to come visit you, seeing as I never got to do it when they put you here."

I sniggered to myself as I said the words, knowing that if he were alive he would be rolling on the grass pissing himself laughing at me and ripping me apart. It was a nervous kind of laugh though, an awkward one…fitting really.

"Yeah," I said finally as I pulled myself together, "I know mate, me with a fucking therapist, stupid isn't it? It's all your fault though you twat, if you hadn't tricked me that day then _you_ wouldn't have been shot and _I _wouldn't need a fucking therapist; so you can shut the fuck up wherever you are."

I caught Emily look up as me as I spoke, her eyes hidden behind her huge shades, the hint of concern in her face of telling me all I needed to know. I winked at her and waved, getting a smile in return as her head returned very obviously to her book; her movement telling me clearly that she was giving me the space she knew I needed, but her actions proving that I wasn't really alone.

"See what you did you wanker," I muttered through a smile, "you made Emily worry about me. I really wish you'd been around to meet this one mate, she's worlds apart from Amy; bizarrely she actually seems to like me for who I am."

I paused and took a breath, suddenly feeling the need to talk to 'Paul' in the same way I talked to 'Mum', share the things that had happened to me. The way I saw it was that they were a channel for me to get things all lined up in my own head, no different to talking to myself, or a pet, or a therapist.

"Amy and I didn't last for much longer after you died Paul," I said to the cold stone, "but then I did tell you I wasn't happy being with her. We lasted about a year, and most of that I was stationed away from home so I hardly saw her. In the end though I gave her the opportunity to call it off, I re-upped and got my orders to go back to Afghanistan; well you can imagine what happened then, you know how much she hated me being in the Army. So anyway, as soon as she found out what I'd done she told me to fuck right off. I guess I got what I wanted in the end, it was a blessing in disguise really and I got to look after someone a whole lot better as a result."

I glanced around myself, making sure there was no-one was approaching Emily that I needed to worry about, reminded abruptly of my duties, before sitting down on the grass, careful not to encroach on that invisible square.

"Look mate, I'm sorry I've not been to see you since, well, since…I didn't get back from tour until after Gill had you buried; and when I went to see her she really…well let's just say I wasn't invited in for dinner. I think she blamed me as much as I blamed myself and after that I just kept making excuses you know? So yeah, I'm sorry mate, I'm a shit, I should have been here sooner; I always was a lousy best friend wasn't I?"

I paused for a second, closed my eyes and tried to regroup, blinking back the tears that were now falling freely; adding a few more rolls of razor wire to my stricken defences in a desperate attempt to keep out the pain of my loss. As I sat back and closed my eyes, searching for the void where I could be safe from emotion, I got the uneasy feeling of being watched. I carefully opened my eyes, careful not to give anything away and saw Emily watching me, staring at me while doing all she could to make out she wasn't. She had a lot to learn about surveillance, bless her, her obvious studying of her book telling me more than anything else that she'd been looking out at me from behind those designer shades, watching me cry, making sure I was ok. It was a good feeling to have someone that cared about me like that, it was a good feeling to be loved; I wiped my eyes, closed them once more and took another deep breath, centring myself before I continued.

"Look mate," I said, finally feeling calm and safe behind my barriers, "I don't really know why I'm here, like I say it's not like I believe in this type of thing; I've only ever done this with mums grave, but then you knew that already. So I'm going to go now mate, I'll try and make it back sometime, bring some more flowers or something I guess. Perhaps I can let you know what my therapist wanted me to get out of this little chat, because I'm fucked if I know. Perhaps we can have a laugh together, or perhaps you can just laugh at me as usual if you really are listening."

I stood up, brushing the dirt from off my jeans as I rose; I took a deep breath and sketched a smart salute at the headstone. "See you Whitey," I said as I dropped my arm sadly; "I really do miss you mate, I miss you every day."

o+o+o

Joanna's "homework" complete, I walked over to the bench where Emily was sat waiting for me, her book already tucked away in her bag. She took off her large dark glasses and looked at me as I approached, her eyes filled with concern.

"You ok baby? You all done?" she said as I sat down next to her.

"Yeah, it was just a bit odd you know? He's not here so I've no idea who the fuck I was talking to. I really don't understand why Joanna suggested I come out here in the first place."

"It's a closure thing love," Emily said leaning her head on my shoulder. "I can't say for sure but that would be my guess."

"Closure," I snorted, "sounds like cheap psycho-babble to me, didn't expect anything like that from Joanna."

"Well sometimes even psycho-babble has it's place babe," she said squeezing my hand, "how do you feel."

"If I'm honest, pretty fucking stupid actually, I said my voice filled with false bravado; "all I really want to do is get out of here. If you really want to, we can talk about it on the way home."

Emily looked at me appraisingly, her brow furrowed, "You sure you're ok babe, you seem a bit off?"

"I'm fine," I said throwing another sandbag onto the brow of the foxhole I'd been hiding in, "I just don't get this sort of thing you know? Plus I really hate these places, and this talking to dead people, well, it's not really me; can we just go home now d'you think?"

"If you're ready to love then yes, of course we can; unless you want to stop off somewhere on the way back? It's a lovely sunny day, seems like a shame to waste it; we could make a day of it, go somewhere and have some food, and some fun."

I could here the lightness in her voice, a lightness that I knew was for my benefit. She was worried about me, worried because of how I was behaving; the trouble was, I felt like I couldn't do anything about it.

'_Suck it up and drive on soldier,' _I told myself firmly, _'stop being a fucking twat.'_

"Sounds like a plan hun," I forced myself to reply cheerily, standing up and holding out my hand, "cockles on Southend sea front or jellied eels in the East End?"

"Fucking neither," she replied pulling herself to her feet and wincing at the thought. "They both sound fucking disgusting, I _do_ know a good pub we could go to for lunch though, the Horseshoes, it's not that far from the M25 so it's technically on the way home."

"…and you just _happened_ to think of it eh?" I interrupted as we walked arm in arm along the gravel path towards the car park; her ploy just slightly obvious. "That's convenient."

"No not really," she admitted casually, "but I do think it would be a really nice place to go for lunch and have a laugh, fuck knows we need it."

"Got an address?" I asked as we made our way out of the rows of graves and into the memorial garden.

"Naturally," she replied patting her handbag.

"Then it's a date Miss Fitch, as long as you're buying, all these places you like are far too expensive for my meagre grunts salary."

"Not a chance," she repeated as she squeezed my arm, bumping me with her shoulder, "it's totally your turn. Besides," she added happily, "it's a pub, it's not _that_ expensive."

"Expensive enough I bet," I grumbled good naturedly as my mood started to lift, "ok then I'm buying, I'll use some of my winnings to pay for it, or I'll put it on expenses."

"That's the spirit," Emily said relaxing as I spoke, I could feel the tension leave her arm as we walked, presumably relieved that whatever I was doing to worry her had stopped. "I'm looking forward to a good lunch, I'm starving."

"You're always starving Ems."

"Not always Nomi," she replied defensively.

"No that's true," I affirmed as we approached the car, "sometimes you're asleep."

"Shut up and take me to lunch Sergeant Campbell," Emily said with a broad fake scowl.

"Yes Ma'am," I replied, the banter making me feel far better than I had all morning. "Lunch it is."

I didn't get my lunch that day, well not where Emily had planned to go anyway. Our afternoon plans were thrown awry by a single voice that rang out across the car park as we walked up to the car, a voice that ended my good mood with one single shouted word.

"Snowy?" the voice called, causing me to freeze in my tracks. "Snowy is that you?"

o+o+o

"Naomi, is he talking to you," Emily asked as I slowly turned towards the voice that had called across the car park. "Who's Snowy?"

"I'm Snowy love," I said quietly as my eyes locked onto a familiar face that was approaching us apace, "but no-one's called me that for quite a while now."

"Snowy?" the voice said as the stick thin figure of Andrew McHale walked across the car park towards me, "fuck me it is, Sarge, Jesus fucking Christ how are you?"

"Chunks," I said shortly wishing he would turn around and fuck right off, a figure from the past that I wasn't prepared to deal with right now.

"Naomi, who is this?" Emily asked, he voice filled with confusion.

"Sergeant Andrew McHale ma'am," Chunks said holding out his hand and shaking Emily's when she offered hers. "My friends call me Chunks, I used to serve with Snowy here; she was my Corporal when I joined the Close Protection Unit in Afghanistan. I haven't seen her since I left, and she got promoted."

"Nice to meet you Chunks," Emily said politely, "I'm Emily, Emily Fitch, I'm pleased to meet someone else that knew Naomi here; I've only ever met a couple of her friends."

"Yes, well, I think we need to get you back in the car Miss Fitch." I said a little rudely, hoping that she'd get the hint. "I think we should be getting you safely back to London. If you'll excuse us; it was nice to see you again Chunks." I added turning away and gesturing for Emily to step towards the car. She didn't take my hint, instead looking over Chunks' shoulder at an approaching figure.

"Andy?" a very familiar voice said from behind me, "who've you bumped into now?"

I found my body turning involuntarily, the movement slowed down like that of a high motion camera. My stomach churned as they met the dark blue eyes of a woman I knew all too well, a woman that I'd spent a lot of time talking to, a woman that had, for an all too short period of time, made my best mate very happy.

"Naomi," Gill said flatly, her jaw dropping as she stared at me, "what are…why…"

"Gill," I said, greeting her as calmly as I could with my heart racing in my chest, this was awkward, more than awkward in fact. Of all the days I could have chosen over the years to come and visit the grave of my best mate, I had to choose the one when his ex-fucking-fiancée came to fucking visit.

What where the odds of that?

"You look…different," Gill said politely, staring across at me her eyes unwavering, "I like your hair, it suits you."

"Thanks," I replied my eyes flicking down involuntarily as I saw her link hands with Chunks; "Look, I'm sorry but if you'll excuse us we really need to get back now. It was nice to see you both." I turned away from the pair of them and opened the rear door of the car. Miss Fitch, if you wouldn't mind…"

"Naomi," Gill called out as I tried once more to usher a subtly resisting Emily into the back of the Range Rover; "why didn't you return my calls? When I saw you on the news I called your company and they told me they would forward my number on to you."

I sighed and flinched slightly as Emily slammed the car door forcing me to confront her question head on.

"You know why Gill," I said sadly, "you know very well why."

o+o+o

_Chelmer Village, just outside Chelmsford UK – December 28__th__ 2007 _

"_Have you had to do one of these before Sarge?" McClair said as I drove him around to the modest two up two down where Gill lived. I nodded silently, I'd had to do a bereavement visit once or twice before, but never to someone I knew well, never to someone that was as close to me as Gill was._

_Even though I hadn't been as close to the others they'd been awful; they were something you had to survive, just like combat, something that you just had to endure. I wasn't looking forward to this one, wasn't looking forward to seeing her face._

"_How long did you know Paul Sarge?" the young Captain asked, obviously trying to make conversation; presumably trying to distract himself from what we were about to do. _

"_Since I was eighteen, we met in 2002," I told him as I swung the Land Rover around the corner and into the street._

"_I'm sorry you couldn't make the funeral," he said quietly, his eyes locked on the snowy kerb. "I tried to make it happen, but you know how the Army can be…"_

_His voice tailed off as I waved a hand dismissively; I knew _exactly_ how the Army could be, and what their reasons were for keeping us there, it really didn't need to be said. He was a good soldier Captain McClair, but he did have a propensity for emotional reactions; it was something I'd spent a while trying to 'beat' out of him while we were on tour. You can't afford emotions in a war zone, emotional reactions like his could get people killed. _

"_Have you spoke to his fiancée since it happened?"_

_I shook my head wishing that he'd take the hint and shut the fuck up. It had been four days since we'd arrived home and I'd barely spoken to anyone, not even Amy. I'd been living in a kind of numb fog that was intruded on only by sex, booze and occasionally food; wanting nothing more than to be left alone in my misery. What made it hard was that everywhere we went were the sights and sounds of festivities. Christmas carols playing in every pub and restaurant, houses and streets bedecked with cheap tacky lights, trying desperately to imitate the idiots across the pond; the tawdry displays of one-upmanship that we now, in some inexplicable form of imitation, called the 'holiday period'._

_I didn't feel like having a 'Merry' fucking Christmas as the signs in windows proclaimed, didn't see much chance of having a 'Happy' New fucking Year either. All of that had been destroyed in the blink of an eye, the sound of a shot and the warm splatter of blood on my lips. All of that had been snatched away from me with the death of my friend; there was nothing happy about Christmas 2007, nothing fucking happy at all._

_Captain McClair wittered away beside me, chirping away like a bird in a nest, I concentrated on the road; the thin layer of ice that glinted in the headlights making the driving treacherous. I was glad I was driving, glad of something to do, anything that could take my mind away from my loss._

_I hadn't volunteered for this duty, though many in the unit suspected I had. I'd merely turned up at the barracks yesterday afternoon, telling Amy that I had to report for duty; explaining to her disappointed face that I had to attend an inquiry into Whitey's death._

_The truth was, I had to attend no such thing…the inquiry had been done, dusted and rubber stamped as closed before we'd left Kandahar; the questioning over and done with, the recriminations and judgements already made. The honest truth was, I couldn't stand to be around Amy right then; her false sympathies, for a man I knew she resented, making me sick to my stomach. So I'd done what I always did when I felt that way, I made my excuses and left. I left her alone in her flat pretending to understand why I'd gone; left her to attend the endless carousel of Christmas fucking parties she'd arranged without her prize doll. I'd never enjoyed being dragged around to her friends, always feeling like she was putting me on display; I had no fucking desire to do that now, I'd had enough of it, more than enough of it in fact._

_Boxing Day had been the turning point for me; despite my complaining of a screaming hangover, Amy had dragged out of my bed to drive her across the country to 'our friends' that lived in Oxford. From the moment we arrived I was paraded around as usual, shown off like the fucking 'Action Barbie doll' that she saw me as_.

_It had pissed me off, and I didn't even have the opportunity to drown myself in drink as we weren't staying overnight and Amy had already nominated me to drive back. Just one more thing to add to my list of things to dislike about her._

_Despite complaining all the time about me actually being in the Army, Amy loved to try and get me to talk to her friends about my experiences; asking me to tell them all about the things I'd done so she could bask in the shared attention. This time though she'd pouted when I'd refused point blank to tell everyone what had happened on my last tour, her party piece being removed by my intransigence. Unfortunately for me, she had one more trick up her sleeve; one more way to make herself the centre of attention at my expense _

"I'm afraid Naomi's not feeling very sociable," _Amy had explained as I quietly fumed, the champagne she was drinking bringing the worst of her to the surface. _"Poor love lost a close friend just before she came home, it's a terrible shame, he was lovely really, all things considered. Just before Christmas as well, awful really."

_I'd walked out at that, grabbing my fags and my jacket and going for a long walk in the cold winter air; leaving her to the false faces of her nauseating friends. She'd apologised later of course, like she always did after slagging off my friends, told me it was just the drink, that she was upset for me and was just trying to deal with it all herself. I knew it was all bullshit, the bitch was probably _happy_ that Paul was dead. She'd told me time and time again that he was no good for me; hating our closeness, hating the bond that we shared, hating the fact that Paul and I had something that we didn't._

_So I'd left her to her parties and gone home, gone back to the barracks to see how many of my _real_ friends were still on base, and finding quite a few. All of the youngsters on my team, McClair included, had returned as well; probably as messed up as I was, messed up, hurting and finding it as difficult to integrate back into 'normal' life as I had. Dispensing with military propriety we'd done what we knew was the right thing, the right thing for us anyway, hitting the local bars hard; downing drink after drink in memory of our friend. When I'd gone, nursing a screaming hangover, to the Sergeants Mess for breakfast the next morning I found Captain McClair waiting for me outside._

"_Sarge, I'm going to see Miss Fletcher this evening, I'd like you to come along."_

"_I'd rather not Sir," I told him, my skull pounding away even harder at the thought of going to see Gill. McClair looked at me and tilted his head thoughtfully._

"_I guess I can understand that," he said nodding, "but I still want you there Sarge. 17:30hrs outside the Officers Mess, I've arranged transport, you're driving."_

_He nodded at me before walking away, leaving me with no option but to comply. It was as close to an order her could do without actually saying it; knowing he couldn't, relying on my friendship and sense of duty to make me comply. It was that same sense of duty that kept me driving through the snow and ice to a snow covered road in Springfield, on the outskirts of Chelmsford, and Gill Fletcher. A woman that should have become Gill White the following spring._

_It wasn't the Gill Fletcher I knew answered the door when we knocked, the door opened to reveal a broken woman, her shoulders sagging when she saw us. She looked totally different to the last time I'd seen her, and it wasn't just the swell of her pregnancy showing through her plain black mourning dress that caused it. It looked like she had been crying before our arrival and that she was fighting hard to hold back the tears even now._

_The last time I'd seen her she'd been smiling and happy, and I was filled with regret that _I'd_ done this to her._

"_Miss Fletcher," McClair had said as she ushered us inside, removing our berets and sitting down, "I wanted to tell you on behalf of myself and all of my men, how very sorry I am for your loss. Paul was a fine soldier and he was a good friend, he is sorely missed by all of us."_

"_Thank you," Gill sniffed, looking straight at me. "Captain, can you tell me what happened? All I got from the people that came round was that he was killed in action."_

_I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, wondering why Gill's bright blue eyes were staring through me, looking deep into my soul. It was as if she was seeking out my guilt, working out the truth._

"_He was," McClair replied oblivious to the tension that had fallen between us as thickly as the white blanket of snow that covered the streets outside. "We were on a protection duty in Kandahar and Paul was shot by a sniper when he left the vehicle he was travelling in. I'm afraid that's all I can tell you really, except to say that it was quick and he wouldn't have suffered at all; I know that's no consolation but…"_

"…_no it is," Gill interrupted him, "I'm glad it was quick, not like those poor boys that were hit by that IED in October, I heard about it on the news."_

_I blanched as she spoke, three months before Paul's death one of the 'Snatch' Landy's had detonated a roadside bomb, one of the Improvised Explosive Devices that had caused so many deaths and injuries out there. It had been a big one as well, suspected to be a 120mm shell rigged with stones and nails to make extra shrapnel. The driver had died instantly, the concussion and blast practically tearing him apart. His passenger had died hours later on his way to Bastion, the blood he'd lost from those jagged wounds and the lost limb doing for him in the end despite the efforts of his team. They had been our only deaths of the tour thus far, and the pain of their loss was still tangible when Whitey was shot._

"_How do you know it was quick Captain," Gill asked suddenly and I had an awful, premonition of how this conversation was going to go down. Sure enough, with a flick of his eyes Captain McClair made my nightmare real._

"_Sergeant Campbell here was with him when he died Miss Fletcher, she saw it happen, isn't that right Sergeant?"_

_I nodded sadly, confirming the truth. Gill's eyes hardened as she stared at me, the disbelief obvious. "You were there?" she said finally as I nodded again and stared at the floor, unable to meet her eyes; "and there was nothing you could do to save him?"_

_I shook my head, a tear forming in the corner of my eye._

"_Answer me Naomi, was there anything you could have done?" she demanded leaning forward, tears rolling down her face._

"_Well I guess I could have stopped him taking my place," I told her, pouring out my side of the story quickly "I guess I could have took the bullet that was meant for me."_

_Gill looked on in horror as I confessed my 'sins' to her, telling her about the banter, and the laces, and everything that had happened; wanting to tell her how happy he was just before he died, how he was thinking of her and looking forward to coming home, and the baby and marriage. McClair, to his credit, interrupted me and tried to explain things properly a couple of times, tried to tell her that it wasn't actually my fault and that I blamed myself because of the fabled 'survivors guilt'; but my words continued to spew out, covering the floor in invisible piles of pain filled bile. When I was done, when it was finally all over, our friendship joined it on the floor. Whatever we had between us was gone, flung out into the snow, dead and buried; Gill was looking at me like I was a stranger, a stranger that had just shit on her doorstep and trodden it in._

"_He trusted you Naomi," she said accusingly, her eyes flashing with anger in her pain; "he trusted you to keep him safe, like he always kept _you_ safe. You failed him Naomi, you fucking failed him when he needed you, and I think I'd like you to leave now, I think I'd like you both to go."_

_Gill stood up and gestured towards the door. McClair stood and offered his hand, Gill shook it as he muttered his condolences again. She looked down at my proffered hand before walking away, opening the door and leaving me to follow the Captain out into the cold. As the door went to close behind us I heard her voice sing out through the crisp cold air._

"_Don't come back Naomi, don't call, don't write, don't contact me at all; I don't want to see you again Naomi Campbell, I _never_ want to see you again."_

_The front door slammed, dislodging a chunk of snow from the porch that fell with a soft thump against the step; it was with a heavy heart that I climbed back into the Landy and drove off. We headed back to camp in a silence that was broken only by the harsh sound of the engine, and the crunch of the thick off-road tyres as they bit into the cold, wet surface._

"_Don't let all that affect you too much Sarge," Captain McClair said suddenly as we passed through the Barracks security check and towards the Mess where I could drop him off. "Grief makes people act irrationally, she wasn't very fair to you back there, and I'm sure she'll change her mind as soon as she has time to think about it. She'll realise that she was wrong to say the things she did; she can't blame you for Paul's death, it wasn't your fault after all."_

"_I don't know Sir," I said as I pulled up to let him out, ignoring his reassuring words once again. "I think she got it all pretty much spot on."_

o+o+o

_Present Day_

"I tried to call you, you know?" Gill said, "afterwards, but the base said your unit was off in Canada on an exercise or something."

"Yeah, I was, we didn't ship out until July though," I said thinking back to that painful period, my first time away from base without Paul.

"I know, I was a bit busy with her older brother that Spring," she replied patting her new bump, "when I tried again you'd gone out to Afghanistan. I tried to get to you through Amy, but she said you'd split up and she had no idea where you were. Well that's not quite true, she said you "were off playing fucking soldier as usual," and that she "didn't give a fuck" where you were.

She shared a look with Chunks and frowned, "I gave her a piece of my mind about that actually, you know none of us really liked her don't you."

I shrugged, knowing but not really caring; Amy was a piece of my past, and not one that I wanted to revisit.

"Soon as I saw you on the news I tried to get in touch through that company they said you worked for, " Gill continued; "but the girl on reception wouldn't put me through to speak to you, and obviously you ignored my message."

"You told me never to contact you again Gill, I wanted to respect your wishes," I said silently thanking Close Protection for their professionalism and longing to be far away from here; far away from the woman I'd rightly called a ghost from my past when I saw the e-mail from Helen all those weeks ago. "You blamed me for Paul's death and you were right to do so, I basically told you that I'd killed him."

"You did, but I was still wrong Naomi, I wanted to call you so many times to tell you that, to tell you that I didn't really believe what you'd told me. You have to understand that I was hurting and upset and then you told me all those things; I didn't know what I was saying, I just wanted someone to blame and you were there, offering yourself on a plate."

She took a step closer towards me and instinctively I stepped back away from her, Emily grabbing my hand reassuringly as I moved closer to her.

"I'd hoped you'd come to see Paul's grave one day Naomi…" Gill said, looking at our hands as I'd looked at theirs, "…and that I'd be here to say sorry for what I said. I really am sorry, you didn't deserve my anger, no matter what happened; and I don't believe you killed Paul, I know you loved him as much as I did."

She looked across the car park, over the memorial garden towards the shady corner where Paul had been laid to rest. She fiddled with the bunch of keys she held in her free hand uncomfortably as she did do.

"Look," she said finally, after sharing another look with Chunks and presumably getting the answer she wanted, "do you want to get a coffee or something. both of you? I need to go and tend to Paul's grave, but I'd like the chance to talk afterwards, we both would."

"Well we really…"

"…would be delighted to," Emily interrupted before I could make my excuse for us to leave, "we can wait in the car, unless you want to meet somewhere that is."

"Do you still remember how to get to mine Naomi?" Gill asked smiling at Emily warmly.

"I think so," I said noncommittally, hoping I could make the excuse of getting lost to avoid this.

"Give me your post code, "Emily said as if sensing my thoughts, "I'll put it into the sat nav to make sure we get there."

Details were exchanged quickly before Gill led Chunks away, after collecting a large bunch of flowers from the boot of a red Audi parked opposite us. I gestured for Emily to get into the back of the Range Rover and she slapped my wrist; climbing instead into the passenger seat. I slammed the back door, watching as Gill and Chunks walked across the grass, before walking around to the drivers side and climbing in.

"Can we just go home now Ems?" I asked as I buckled up; "this day is rapidly going downhill."

"No Naomi, we said we'd got for a coffee with your friends and that's what we're going to do."

"They're _not_ my friends Ems, that's Paul's ex-fiancée and one of the rookies that was in my unit."

"Well, that's as maybe, but we promised," Emily said firmly.

"_You_ promised baby," I told her just as firmly; "If you remember, _I_ was desperately trying to get us out of there, the last thing I want to do is spend the rest of the day with people from my past; I was actually looking forward to a good lunch in the sun, a nice drive home and a relaxing end to the weekend."

I didn't want to get into an argument about this, choosing my words carefully to try not to be aggressively accusing; but I was really upset about her dropping me in it like this, making promises on my behalf. I had a sudden memory of Amy behaving the same way and it made me sick to my stomach to compare Emily's actions to hers. At least Emily looked ashamed of herself, something Amy never managed to fake, let alone do.

"I'm sorry," she said finally, "I just thought you were making excuses for me…"

"Well I wasn't." I interrupted quickly, cutting her off.

I stared out of the windscreen at the memorial garden, its beds of flowers blooming colourfully in the August sun, and gripped the steering wheel; my knuckles gleaming like polished ivory as I struggled to get control of the conflicting emotions that were surging through me. Anger, confusion, regret, guilt, hurt, they were all there in full measure and I could feel the pressure building. I needed an outlet, I needed some way of getting this out of my head before it exploded.

"Nomi?" Emily said and I turned towards her, watching her flinch involuntarily as our eyes met. I blinked rapidly, startled by her reaction, and tried to breathe slowly; trying to calm myself, trying to ease the pressure. "Nomi are you ok?"

I could hear the concern in her voice as spots appeared in front of my eyes, I closed them tightly as she reached out and laid her hand on my arm.

"I'm fine Emily, it's just a bit too much, it's all just a bit too much in one go you know?" I told her trying desperately not to snap, "I just need a minute, that's all; it was hard enough being here today. Hard enough without seeing them, without agreeing to go back to Gills for a sodding coffee."

Even that gentle touch on my arm didn't succeed in calming me, my anger raging through me like a hurricane. I knew it wasn't fair to be mad at her, after all it was classic out of work-mode Emily, always wanting to do the right thing, always so fucking trusting and helpful. I loved her for it, loved the fact that she cared about me; but right now I wished she was playing the Fitch-Bitch and had fucked the pair of them off. All I wanted to do right now was go home, curl up under my duvet and forget that this day had happened. I didn't want to meet up with Gill, didn't want to see her holding hands with Chunks, didn't want to have to deal with what that meant.

As I'd told her, it was hard enough dealing with the re-emerging feelings of Paul's loss, feelings I'd long suppressed; feelings I wasn't sure if I wanted back.

I was caught in a trap though, a trap of Emily's making; there was no way I could get out of seeing Gill, not without hurting or embarrassing either her or Emily. Carefully I built up the layers of my defensive wall and retreated behind them, retreated into a place I knew all too well; that emotionless hole where I could survive the shit I was subjected to, hide from the bullets that life continued to fire at me. The hidey-hole that had got me through Canada, and Amy, and Afghanistan; the one where no one could hurt me again.

"I'm sorry love," Emily told me when I finally opened my eyes, "I'm _really_ sorry; I should have thought…"

"It's ok," I interrupted, starting the engine and spinning the wheels in the gravel as I sped off, "it really doesn't matter."


	52. A Cup of Tea and a Slice of…Guilt

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness, a heavy case of writers block and a ex I could happily put in the Basement with Naomi right now!

I still nothing to do with Skins, (but then do we care about Skins any more?).

**Authors Note: **Hello everyone…here's chapter 52, hope it works for you. Enjoy

**Chapter 52 – A Cup of Tea and a Slice of…Guilt**

"You're still mad at me aren't you Naomi?" Emily said quietly as I drove around the outskirts of Chelmsford, killing time; trying to avoid doing what I now had to do. My insides were still churning after our chance encounter with Chunks and Gill and I really wasn't looking forward to sitting down to tea.

"What makes you think I'm mad at you at all Emily," I said as calmly as I could; using every piece of Joanna's training to stop myself biting her head off.

"Oh I don't know Naomi," she said with a hint of annoyed sarcasm in her voice, "perhaps it's just about everything you're doing right now, the frowning, the clenching of your jaw, the way you are gripping the steering wheel and the way you keep looking at me as if you want to kill me."

"I don't want to kill you," I replied flatly, "and that's not even close to being funny today."

"I wasn't trying to be funny, and I said I was sorry," she answered reaching out to touch my arm. My eyes flicked from the road, to her hand, to her and then back to the road once more; changing gear quickly to escape her touch.

"Will you at least talk to me about it love?" she said gently, as if trying not to antagonise me.

"We talked Emily; I told you what was wrong…"

"…and I told you I was sorry honey." She interrupted, "I just thought it would be good for you to see your friends," she added sadly, "I didn't realise that…"

"I said it was fine," I interrupted back, "just drop it Emily, please."

We lapsed back into silence as I drove onto the A414 heading south towards London, the precise opposite direction to the way I should be going. I saw Emily's head turn as we passed a road sign, her eyes flicking to mine as we sped on.

"Taking the long way," I said simply, not taking eyes from the road as she turned to stare at me.

"Nomi…" Ems started to say, before my sigh cut her off. I pulled off the road into one of the convenient lay-by, hauled on the handbrake and turned off the engine.

"What Emily?" I asked, allowing the frustration and upset to enter my voice just this once, "what are you going to do, tell me why you did it? Tell me how it's all for my own fucking good, that it'll be 'closure' for me. I'm not a bloody lab rat Emily; this is fucking hard for me."

"I know it is Naomi," Emily said soothingly, the cadence of her voice actually having the opposite effect to the one it intended. "I know it's difficult for you and I want to help you through it; but please, you've got to stop being angry with me and let me help you love. I know I fucked up earlier, but there's nothing I can do about that now."

"I'm fucking sick of this Emily," I told her, "fucking sick of being pushed and pushed. I'd just about come to terms with what was on mum's tapes and now I'm here trying to deal with this. I'm not going back after this, Joanna can fuck off; how the fuck is this helping me?"

"You're being emotional Naomi, and that's understandable, "Emily said softly, "but you _know_ how this is helping you. You know that you were an utter mess before you went to see Joanna, and you've been making such progress since; we're all very proud of you love, _I'm _really proud of you. You've come such a long way Naomi, don't blow it now; don't make any rash decisions that will ruin your recovery."

"You make me sound like a fucking disaster area, like I'm some kind of pet that needs fixing," I snapped.

"That's not true and you know it," Emily snapped back, her patience obviously exhausted. With a sigh, she slumped back in her seat rubbing her eyes.

"Look Naomi," she continued her voice more level again, "you can shout at me all you like if it makes you feel better, but it's not going to make a difference to how I feel about you; or to what has happened. Joanna wouldn't have asked you to do this if she didn't think you were ready, fucks sake it wasn't that long ago you were telling me she was so happy with your progress you were only going to one meeting a week. Meeting your friends…your old friends," she corrected herself as I frowned at her, "that was unfortunate, but you can't lock yourself away from these things for ever babe, at some point you were going to have to deal with them."

"You sound like her," I said relaxing my grip on the steering wheel slightly, feeling the warm blood pump into the fingers that had been squeezing so hard they'd become almost numb.

"Well of course I do Nomi, Joanna did train me after all. But the difference is I love you; she's doing it because that's what she does, I'm doing this because I care. You told me once you felt like a broken toy Nomi; well if you are I want you _fixed_ babe, I want to help to fix you."

"And what if you can't Emily?" I asked her, voicing the fear that had been nagging away at the back of my head for weeks. "What if I can't be fixed?"

"Everything can be fixed babe, some things just take a bit longer that's all. It doesn't mean we give up trying though, doesn't mean we ever give up."

I sat back in my seat, listening to the noise of the road and the huge articulated Lorries that thundered by; their bulk bullying their way along the road shaking the car as they passed, the very air ripped asunder in their wake. I closed my eyes for a second before reaching down to start the engine; the heavy V8 engine thundering into life once more. As I slotted her into first gear, and prepared to drive off, Emily spoke once more.

"Are you going to be ok Naomi?" she said as I raised the revs, glanced over my shoulder, and drove off.

"I really don't know Emily," I told her as I swung us into the line of traffic, "I really do not know."

o+o+o

"Come on in," Gill said as she opened the door, the door I'd last seen one snowy night as it slammed behind me. I gestured for Emily to go in front of me, before following her and wiping my feet on the mat.

We'd driven around for another three quarters of an hour before I'd worked up the courage to drive to that small house, another three quarters of an hour of driving around in virtual silence.

"Take a seat, Andy's just putting the kettle on," Gill said gesturing to the sofa. "I'm afraid I didn't get your name," she said pointedly to Ems.

"I'm Emily, Emily…"

"Fitch," Gill interrupted with a smile, "Of course, I remember you now, from the television, Naomi was hired to keep you safe wasn't she; looks like she's doing a good job."

"She's doing an excellent job," Emily said with a polite smile, "she's very professional."

"Talking to the wrong person Miss Fitch," I said bitterly, "Gill doesn't think I'm capable of doing a good job."

Gill looked past Emily at me, a sad frown on her face. "That was a long time ago Naomi," she said actually managing to pull off an apologetic sounding voice; "I said I was sorry for what I said to you that night and I am, I'm really very sorry."

"Doesn't matter," I said as Emily rested her hand on my leg supportively. I felt my thigh muscle tense involuntarily as she touched it, and pressed on trying to ignore it. "Water under the bridge and all that," I said as I tried to calm myself once more; we'd driven round and round until I'd been able to bring my messed up emotions back under control, looks like I hadn't really succeeded.

"Does to me," Gill said sitting down on the small two seater sofa that was opposite ours. "I realised how unfair I'd been almost as soon as you'd gone; I just wasn't prepared to deal with it, you have to understand that Naomi. I didn't really know what I was doing; I didn't mean to be such a bitch."

"No one ever does."

I felt Emily's hand flinch as I spoke, a warning perhaps? I tried to relax and stop sniping, but the resentful pain that had surfaced with our meeting hadn't totally gone away. We sat in an awkward silence until Chunks appeared carrying a tray, cups and saucers precariously balanced.

"Right then, who's for tea? Emily?"

"Please Andy," Ems said, her charm offensive in full swing.

"Snowy?"

I nodded, looking on as Chunks poured from the tea pot into the cups.

"Why do you call Naomi 'Snowy' Andy?" Emily asked as she took her cup.

"Same reason she calls me 'Chunks' Emily," he replied handing me my drink and pouring his own; "they're nicknames we picked up in the Army."

"'Chunks' doesn't sound like a very nice nickname Andy, "Emily said accepting a biscuit from the plate Gill offered across to her.

"It's not," Gill said as I refused the plate with a wave of my hand, "you _really_ don't want to know how he earned it, trust me on that; especially not over biscuits."

"Why do they call you 'Snowy' Naomi?" Emily pressed, turning to smile at me.

"Old story Miss Fitch," I replied formally, taking a sip of my tea and avoiding the question; diving back into that familiar public façade as my defence against what I was facing.

"Seems to be a lot of those Nomi," she said, ignoring my hint and causing me to glance at her and frown.

"Campbell here's the 'Snow Queen' Emily," Andy said with a grin, "Whitey told me she earned it when she ran across a street under fire, lobbed a pineapple through a window and kicked a door in to kill a unit of insurgents that had her team pinned down. For some reason she didn't like the 'Ice Maiden moniker Whitey tried to give her and decided to change it to something she preferred."

"Snow Queen does sound a lot nicer than Ice Queen I have to say," Emily replied with a light chuckle, "but why call her that at all?"

"Paul said she was as cool as ice," Gill added, sticking her two penneth into Andy's story, "That's why he suggested calling her the Ice Maiden, he told me that he was really proud of her when she did it, said Naomi was incredible."

"He suggested it because he knew it would wind me up," I said finally, "and did he also tell you that he followed me the whole way, under the same fire, and that he went in through the same doorway with me, shoulder to shoulder?"

"He never did, no." Gill replied cocking her head at me thoughtfully, "but I do remember you telling me that once before. As I recall you were telling me how much you loved him for always being there for you; you _were_ rather drunk at the time though."

"Drunken words, sober thoughts," Emily pontificated, putting down her cup and sitting back.

"Absolutely," Gill agreed quickly, "that was those two all over. He felt the same way about you, you know Naomi? He told me when we first got serious that he loved you like a sister and if we were going to have any kind of a future together I'd have to deal with you as well as him."

"I bet that was a fun conversation," I said scornfully, "great date material talking about how there's another woman in his life."

"It was better than me getting paranoid about his affections," she said looking at Emily carefully; "like that Amy of yours; how is she by the way? The TV said you were back together."

"Well we're not," I said firmly, "the bitch just told them that so she could get her five minutes of fame at my expense as fucking usual. She told me to fuck off and I did, we're over; we were pretty much over the day the day I came to see you, we just didn't know it then."

"I thought that might be the case," she said laying her hand on Andy's leg. "Seeing you with Emily here that is, it's not in your nature to cheat Naomi so I presumed the TV must have got it wrong."

"Miss Fitch is just my employer Gill," I said defensively, sticking to our story.

"And Andy here is the Pope Naomi; come on I _know_ you, and I'm _not_ stupid."

"You don't know me Gill," I said bitterly, "you haven't known anything about me for years now. You never wanted to."

Silence fell over the room, broken only by the clinking of cups against saucers as the four of us sipped our drinks.

"Well this is fucking awkward isn't it?" Chunks said suddenly, causing Emily to jump in her seat. "Emily, what is it you do, and what does Snowy here do for you besides avoid questions about you?"

"I work for the family business," Emily said with a smile, "we sort of do lots of things, but my role is mainly sales."

"What do you sell Emily?" Gill added, "the television said you worked for Fitch Industries, but I don't remember them saying what you do?"

"We sell armaments mainly," Emily said, "guns, bullets, shells, missiles…you name it we sell it. I'm the Director of Sales for the company and that's why I need Naomi here, we appear to have upset a group of people who have made a lot of threats against us, so she heads up the team that keeps me and my family safe. Because I'm apparently a main target for them I get twenty four hour protection from Naomi here herself, Daddy insisted on it."

"Is that why you were attacked?" Chunks blurted out, his tact no better than it was when I knew him. "Gill told me about it on the way over here, I missed it I'm afraid; I was in Butlins when it happened, I'm just back here on leave at the moment."

"Butlins?" Ems said sounding confused, "I'm not with you."

"He means Afghanistan Miss Fitch," I told her, feeling a pang of regret at what could have been. Chunks was living my life right now by the sounds of things, a Sergeant in the CPU out at the sharp end, doing what I had loved to do.

"That's right, I'm actually stationed with your old unit Snowy; got my stripe a couple of months ago after I transferred in."

"Great," I said flatly, thinking it was anything but; Chunks was my replacement, just like he seemed to be Paul's.

"Naomi," Emily chided at my tone.

"That's ok Emily, I'd probably be feeling the same way," Chunks said sympathetically. "I heard what happened out there Snowy, it sounds like you were lucky to survive.

"Yeah," I said finishing my tea, "really lucky. My fucking life ended in that fucking desert Chunks, every-fucking-thing I held dear ended then and there."

"But you have a new life now Naomi," Emily said softly, resting her hand on my thigh, "and because of it I have one as well."

I didn't say anything; she was right and yet so fucking wrong as well. I had a new life, a pretty good life in fact, but seeing Chunks had made me wish I had my old one back. That the wounds in my arm and leg were gone and that I was back in war; keeping myself, my team and my package alive.

"You two make a nice couple," Gill said, smiling across at us.

"You as well," Emily replied returning Gills smile with one of her own, "when are you due?"

"September," Gill replied as Andy reached over to rest his hand on her swollen belly. "I think Andy might have caught me before he shipped out. It'll be nice for Paul Jr. to have a little brother or sister."

"Paul Jr?" I blurted out despite myself.

"Yes, my baby boy," Gill said proudly, grabbing a picture from a side table and thrusting it into my hands; a sandy haired blue eyed toddler staring back at me.

"Has his dad's eyes," I said, handing the picture to an interested Emily.

"He's gorgeous," she said as she stared at the picture of a kid that reminded me of my mate, the same cheeky smile, the same cocky look.

"He's with his Gran at the moment, I think he's a bit too young too, well, you know…"

"I understand," Emily said quickly before I could say a word. "It must have been tough for you."

"It was, but Andy here was there for me, helping out when he wasn't away with the unit. He came to see me about six months after Paul Jr. was born; he's been there for me, for us, ever since."

"Excuse me," I said quickly getting up from the sofa, "I think I need a bit of fresh air."

I heard them talking as I walked out of the front door, leaning against the front of the Range Rover, wanting for the first time in months the relaxing draw of a cigarette.

o+o+o

_September 2007, Kandahar – Afghanistan_

"_SNOWY!" _

_Whitey's voice echoed around the compound, rousing me from the doze I'd been having on my camp bed. "Snowy you twat, where the fuck are you?"_

"_That's 'Sergeant Campbell you twat, where the fuck are you?' White you prick," I yelled a broad smile on my face, "show some fucking respect."_

"_Yes Sarge, sorry Sarge," he bellowed before appearing in the lean to that four of us shared at the back of the base. "Fuck you Sarge," he added flopping down on the bottom of my bed, nearly catapulting me out._

"_Fuck you as well," I told him, hauling myself up to my elbows, "what's the panic mate? Why you running around shouting your fucking head off?"_

"_I got some news buddy, some fucking awesome news actually; wanted to share it."_

"_It better be fucking awesome mate, if it's not I'm going to put you on PD for waking me up."_

_Whitely just smiled his best cheeky smile and winked, knowing there was no way I'd put him on punishment detail for anything so minor._

"_It's more than worth it mate; I just got of the satellite phone to home, Gill's pregnant Snowy, I'm going to be a daddy!"_

_I stared at the beaming smile for a few seconds as the information seeped into my tired brain, before breaking out in a matching one of my own which I stifled immediately in an attempt to fake annoyance._

"_Fucks sake mate is that all? You woke me up for that?" I teased, my best poker face firmly in place. _

"_Yeah, that's all;" he replied shaking his head at me, his grin fixed. "No important news from home, except for the fact that you're still a twat Snowy; and we all knew that."_

"_So you're going to be a Daddy eh?" I said clapping him on the shoulder and smiling happily. "Poor fucking kid, I feel so sorry for it."_

"_Gets worse for the poor little bugger mate, you're going to be his godmother!"_

_Whitey's laugh shattered the air around us as my jaw hit the floor, so shocked I was at the two pieces of news I'd just been given._

"_Me?" I managed to say finally, "you want me to be a godparent? I'm not even fucking religious mate, how the _hell_ do you expect me to perform that role? No pun intended."_

"_What the fuck does that matter these days mate?" Whitely replied aiming a slap at my head, "anyway doesn't matter what you think, Gill and I want it to happen, and you know how stubborn we are."_

_We stared at each other for a second before I stuck out a hand, "congratulations mate, soon as we can we'll raise a glass your Paul Jr."_

"_Simon, or perhaps Simone," Whitey corrected me accepting my handshake. "I want to name the little'un after my dad."_

"_Well we'll raise a glass to Simon or Simone then mate, when's the little fucker due?"_

"_February-ish?" He replied shrugging his shoulders, "I don't really know; it's due before we get married anyway."_

"_So Gill's dress will still fit then," I teased, knowing how much time she'd spent looking for it. "That'll be a relief for her."_

"_Fucking hope so kid, bloody thing cost me enough; I've been looking forward to seeing it on the floor of our honeymoon suite."_

"_Twat," I sniffed as I shoved him playfully causing him to fall off the bunk and into the dust._

"_Always mate…and you love it," he said pulling me onto the floor with him. We lay there laughing for a while before I climbed to my feet, dusted myself down, and held out my hand once more._

"_Fucking great news mate," I told him as I hauled him to his feet and into an uncharacteristic and awkward hug; "I'm made up for you Paul, you're going to be a great dad."_

"_And you're going to make a great 'Auntie Naomi' too," he said as we pounded each other on the back, before breaking apart and sniggering at each other embarrassedly. Neither of us were huggers really, and it was only on special occasions that we allowed our emotions to come to the surface._

_I guess this counted._

"_Still think Paul Jr. sounds better you know," I told him as I bent down and turned on the little gas burner we had in our hooch to make a brew on. _

"_The world isn't ready for two Paul White's Snowy," Paul told me with a laugh, "I think its better that I stay unique, just in case you know? I'd hate for all of this to end on us."_

_He gestured out at the messy collection of canvas and camp beds where we lived and worked. "It really would be a shame if we lost all this luxury."_

"_The world isn't going to end for us mate, we're indestructible remember? We're going to live forever so we'll need somewhere to stand."_

"_Well of course," he said soberly, his mood changing in an instant; "do me a favour though mate; if I do buy it out here, see what you can do to look after Gill and the baby. Just, you know, keep an eye on her, make sure she's ok."_

_I grinned at him, not really taking him seriously until I looked into his eyes and saw the sincerity that lay behind his words._

"_Well firstly," I told him, trying to be serious, but without becoming maudlin, "nothing's going to happen to you mate, not with me keeping your sorry arse in line; and secondly, well it goes without saying mate. Of course I will, Gill's my friend remember? I won't leave her on her own; if it ever comes to that I'll do my best for her."_

"_I figured," Paul said with a happy smile finally breaking over his well worn face, "you, and me, and Gill are family Naomi; but it doesn't hurt to ask now does it? Especially as I've already told her you've got her back too."_

"_You presumptuous twat Whitey" I teased, clipping him about the head provoking a mock tussle in the dust that ended up with us sat, back to back on the floor; tears of laughter rolling down our cheeks. _

_We sat like that and laughed and laughed as we stared out at the shitty little place we called our home away from home. A dirty corner, of a dusty base, in a city about as far removed from England's green and pleasant land as it possibly could be. But for one magical moment, the dust and dirt were gone, lost in the humour, the shared happiness, and the camaraderie that was the only thing that kept you going over here; in the country that England forgot._

o+o+o

"Do you have a problem with me and Andy being together Naomi?" I heard from the doorway, the voice dragging me from my memories. I turned my head to see Gill leaning against the door frame staring out at me.

"Perhaps, no…I don't know," I said staring up at the bright blue sky, "seems like I don't know about a lot of things any more."

"He's been very good for me Naomi, and it's not like either of us wanted this to happen, it just did you know? Not that it's any of your business but one minute we were nothing more than friends, the next we were dating and then he asked me to marry him."

"So you're engaged," I said closing my eyes tightly, blacking out the sky, the orange blur of the light still retained on my retina, the colours twisting and morphing behind my scrunched lids. I tried not to relate her words to what had happened to me and Emily, but I couldn't. I couldn't blame her for falling for someone without intending to, falling in love even if it was against your better judgement; I wanted to, I really did, but even I wasn't that big of a hypocrite.

"Married actually," I heard her say. "We got married last March; we would have sent you an invite, but…"

"But you didn't know where I was," I said opening my eyes and looking back at her finally; staring into her sad eyes, "I doubt you'd have wanted me there anyway Gill, I wasn't at my best in March."

"The TV said you'd been badly injured, were you still in hospital?"

"Well I was more living under the M4," I replied tartly, holding her gaze, not allowing her to look away. "I sort of lost everything after I got kicked out of the service, ended up without anywhere to go."

"Oh," Gill replied, finally breaking my stare and looking away, down her street past the neat little street of houses, past the parked cars and perfectly mown lawns; looking out on her little piece of suburban heaven. I could hear Emily laughing and joking with Chunks in the background, the sound of her voice fitting the place perfectly; this was their world, Gills world, Emily's world, Amy's world even, but it wasn't my world. This wasn't where I belonged and I had the nagging urge to just jump into the car and drive away; just fuck off and leave all of this behind, this place, Gill, my job at Close Protection even.

The only thing that kept me in place was a red headed girl that I loved despite being angry at her right now, and the memory of my mum calling me a runner, Joanna calling me a runner and Emily telling me forcefully that I could run forever but I wouldn't be able to hide from her. They all wanted me to stop running and, for the moment, that's what I did.

"I didn't know Naomi, honestly," Gill added finally, "I would have helped if I'd have known; you know I would. Paul would have wanted me to help too; he'd have done anything for you."

"He already did Gill," I said sadly, "he gave me his life."

"We both know that's not true though, don't we Naomi?" Gill said stepping closer and stretching out a tentative hand, touching my arm gently. "He loved you to bits; that's why he told me all about you, so I wouldn't get jealous of how much he loved you. I know I blamed you back then, but I know it wasn't anything to do with you; and even if it was, you know he'd have given you his life happily."

"Not after he found out about the baby he wouldn't," I told her with yet one more sad tear, this time the first one I'd managed to shed for my friend; "he never shut up about it you know? He was looking forward to being a dad so much."

"I know he was," Gill replied, getting braver and putting her hands on my shoulders; "but that doesn't change anything, you do know that don't you?"

"I wish it had been _me_ Gill," the words, the truth, choking me as I spoke. "I meant it that night you know, it should have been me. Paul had a future with you, with the baby; he didn't deserve to die."

"No one deserves to die Naomi," Gill said pulling me into her arms as the tears began to flow, "not Paul and not you, but it happens and we have to accept it, as hard as it might be."

"I miss him Gill," I cried into her shoulder, the events of the day shattering my fragile emotions. "I miss him so fucking much."

"I miss him too Naomi," she said resting her head against mine, "I miss him so fucking much too…"

o+o+o

"Please stay in touch Naomi," Gill said as I closed the door to the Range Rover and started the engine.

"I'll make sure she does," Emily said leaning across me to shake her hand.

"Low and slow Snowy," Andy said as I shoved the big old truck into reverse.

"Yeah, slow and low Chunks," I replied, automatically, the old habit still there.

Emily waved our goodbyes as I drove away. I don't know if she knew exactly what had happened outside, but I suspected that she'd guessed; her concerned look when Gill and I finally walked back into the living room telling me all I needed to know.

We drove back towards the A12 and home in silence again, the tension hovering between us like a thick cloud of burning oil. As we approached the junction Emily pointed towards a garage complex on our left.

"Can we hit that drive-through babe, I'm absolutely famished and it's a bit too late to head off to the pub now."

I glanced down at the clock seeing that she was totally right, it was a little after three in the afternoon; and as we hadn't eaten since breakfast, I wasn't surprised she was starving. I nodded at her and flicked down the indicator, switching lanes with a wave of apology. I raised my eyebrows as a horn from the car behind me shouted its annoyance; smiling weakly as Emily raised her middle finger to the driver.

"Tosser," she exclaimed as we turned down the side road and onto the complex, heading towards the ubiquitous golden arches.

"More my fault that," I corrected her, "I did, technically, cut him up."

"He's still a tosser," Ems said folding her arms and pouting, "you indicated and waved at him when he let you in, there was no need for him to make that gesture, not like it's physically possible either, well not for you; describes him perfectly though.."

"Oh," I said shaking my head, "I didn't see that, let it go Ems; don't sweat it, I've had worse."

"Did the offending party survive the encounter?" Emily said with a smile.

"Yeah," I replied, thinking back to the rocks that had been thrown at me, the yelled abuse in many different languages, the veiled insults from Amy's friends and the sly digs from Emily herself when we had first met. "They know they're going to get away with it, that's why they do it; they always survive the encounter because they know we can't fight back."

"Seems like a cheap victory to me," Emily replied shrugging and staring at the board I'd pulled up in front of, scanning the colourful sign with hunger in her eyes.

"They always are," I said, adding the slight dig but knowing she wasn't really listening any more her stomach totally taking over her brain; "they almost always are."

We ordered our meals from the booth and I eased the oversized truck along the narrow road to the collection window, digging notes out of my pocket to pay the cashier. Seconds later the brown bags filled with pre-packaged junk food were shoved into my hands, followed by drinks and the ice-cream Emily had insisted on. I drove us back around the restaurant and into the car park at the back, finding a quiet spot in the shade where I could sit back and eat, knowing that we were safe and out of the way. I picked at my burger unenthusiastically while Emily fell upon her food with obvious relish; looking guilty when finally I caught her eye.

"It's one of my vices," she said wiping her mouth with a serviette, "I don't do this very often, but I really do enjoy it when I do treat myself."

"Ems it tastes like cardboard," I told her, "and it's filled with all sorts of chemicals and shit. My mum would spin in her grave if she knew I was eating this right now."

"It tastes good to me Nomi," she countered, "and I know it's full of shit. It's a good memory though, mum used to treat me and Katie when we were kids, she'd sneak us out of the house for the day, telling dad we were all going shopping, and we'd get a McDonalds or a Burger King or something while we were out; it was our special secret."

"Why was it a secret?" I asked, forcing myself to eat the over salted, paper-like fries, lukewarm as they were.

"Dad was a bit of a health nut when we were growing up, that's why we've got the pool and the gym and everything at home. Everything was about staying healthy and eating well and exercising; to go and eat junk food was mums way of getting back at him for being a prick."

"Fair enough," I said shoving the remainders of my half eaten meal into the bag and scrunching it closed; taking a sip of my coffee. "At least this is one thing they can't fuck up though," I added, actually enjoying the flavour of the drink that had cooled to a level that wasn't just above that of molten lava.

"Yeah, I still prefer Starbucks though," Emily said as she finished off her own meal and started on her ice-cream.

"How so?" I asked, thinking that this coffee was at least as good and a hell of a lot cheaper than the coffee's we'd had at the high priced high street empire.

"Well," Emily said licking her fingers and smiling, "they have much better muffins there, and you know I like muffins as much as you do now."

I nearly spat my drink across the dashboard at her words, swallowing the coffee in a hurry and burning my throat as the hot liquid splashed down it. As I swallowed and laughed and everything in between, I managed to choke myself; and I felt Emily relieve me of the cardboard mug before I poured it everywhere, and I coughed and spluttered my way back to normality. When finally I composed myself, breathing heavily, I glanced across at Ems, who raised an eyebrow suggestively and set me off laughing again.

"It's good to see you laughing baby," she said with a broad grin on her face, "I was getting the feeling that you weren't ever going to forgive me for being a dickhead."

"I've forgiven you Ems," I said truthfully, knowing that I had indeed forgiven her for her act of friendliness that had caused me so much pain today. "Doesn't mean I'm not still mad at you though."

"I guess I can live with that, as long as you're not mad at me for too long."

She batted her eyelids at me and playfully licked the back of the plastic spoon causing me to laugh once again. "You're very bad Emily Victoria Fitch," I told her wagging my finger at her in fake annoyance, "a total tease."

"I can be," she replied sniggering and spooning in the ice-cream as I slipped on my seatbelt and started the big engine once more. "You seem to bring out the tease in me Naomi Campbell, I can't help myself."

I smiled as I swung the car around the complicated set of roundabouts and onto the main road towards home. I knew what she was doing, trying to bring me out of my mood and lift my spirits; so far it was working, though I knew my mood was far from perfect.

"You feel like going out tonight Nomi? I'll buy us dinner somewhere nice."

"Thought it was my turn to buy dinner," I said, neatly avoiding answering the question.

"That was lunch love," she said waving her giant milkshake at me, "and you've just bought that. Dinner's on me, if you're up for it."

"Well we haven't got anything in so it's go out, go shopping, or order takeout I guess."

"Too late to go shopping on a Sunday love," Emily said tapping her watch. "Everywhere will be closed by the time we get to a supermarket."

"So that just leaves go out or order in then." I said, stating the obvious and getting an old fashioned look as a reward; as I laughed to myself Emily stuck her tongue out at me and turned on the stereo filling the silence with music. I was glad, I needed the space to sort out my head, needed the time to get my shit together once more.

As I drove, absently listening to Emily continuing with her impromptu karaoke session, I allowed my mind to run over the events of the day; visiting my best friend, bumping into his ex-girlfriend and finding her to be married to a man we had both once called a friend.

"What a fucking day," I muttered to myself causing Emily to stop singing and look over at me.

"Sorry love, I didn't catch that," she said apologetically flicking off the stereo.

"Nothing Ems," I told her staring at the black tarmac ahead, "Nothing at all."

o+o+o

"Is that all that happened Naomi?" Joanna asked later that week in the cold comfort of her consulting room in the basement of her house.; Emily convincing me that I had to go back. "Is that everything that happened to you?"

"Isn't that enough?" I asked accusingly, "Isn't it enough for you?"

"Why do you ask that Naomi?" she replied, with a voice that made me want, not for the first time, to put a round right through that frowning forehead.

"Because nothings ever good enough for you is it Joanna?" I said finally losing my temper; she'd been sat there like a preying mantis for three quarters of an hour now, nodding sanctimoniously as I talked about the horror that she'd pushed me into head first. I'd thought about it a lot on that journey home, and I knew I was looking to appoint blame on someone other than Emily. Unfortunately for her Joanna fucking Foster was my next obvious target.

"It's like you see all of this as some kind of fucking game, "I told her angrily. "You wait until I just about manage to get one thing sorted in my head and then you shove me off on another one of your fucking projects to 'help me'; and every time you do I end up back here in a fucking mess."

"Is that what you think I do Naomi?" she replied calmly as I ranted at her. "You think I treat this as a personal game? Amuse myself at your expense?"

"Fucking right I do," I said standing and pacing the room, fed up to the back teeth of her endless questioning of everything I said. "I tell you I've got feelings for Emily and you send me off to tell her. I tell you I'm a bit messed up because I sat through five hours of tapes from my mother and lo and behold you think it's ok to send me off to visit my best mates grave. I tell you that I met some people I never expected to meet again and that Emily practically forced me to have fucking tea and biscuits with them, and you tell me 'that's great'. Well it's not fucking great; it wasn't fucking great, it was awful, completely fucking awful. I've had enough of this shit; I came here because I needed help to get rid of these fucking nightmares, and only then because Emily convinced me that I needed help so I could do my fucking job. I came here against my better judgement because Emily and Jenna told me you were the best, because they told me you could help get rid of the dreams."

"I am helping you Naomi," Joanna said as I paused for a breath. "You have to understand that everything we do here is done for a reason. I asked you to visit your friend Paul's grave because it was something you've been unconsciously avoiding, something that was blocking your progression. Nothing I do here is part of a game; everything we do is designed to help you past the blocks in your mind, the guilt that you've accepted that's driving your nightmares."

"Then why are they back and why are they worse than ever before?" I screamed at her, the nights of barely any sleep finally causing me to completely crack. "Why am I having the nightmares again?"


	53. Night Time Terrors and Daytime Pleasures

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness, a heavy case of writers block and a ex I could happily put in the Basement with Naomi right now!

I still nothing to do with Skins, (but then do we care about Skins any more?).

**Authors Note: **Hello everyone…here's chapter 53, hope it works for you. Enjoy

**Chapter 53 – Night Time Terrors and Daytime Pleasures**

"_Why did you do it Campbell?"_

"_Why Campbell, why…why did you do it Campbell why?"_

"_Why did you kill me Campbell, why did you kill me and why did you allow him to take my girl?"_

_The bleeding figures of Whitey and McClair shuffled across the burning sand towards me as I stood transfixed, unable to move, my arms fixed by my sides._

"_I didn't Paul," I screamed, my eyes fixed on my accusing friend, the ragged puncture in his chest still pumping out blood, flooding down his fatigues and onto the floor. "I didn't kill you and I didn't know about Gill."_

"_I trusted you Campbell," he intoned, his voice dry and crusty, "I trusted you to do the right thing, we promised each other and you betrayed me."_

"_I didn't Paul, I didn't…I tried to do the right thing, she wouldn't see me, I did what I could…"_

"_You betrayed me Campbell," Paul said raising his arms to grab me as he shuffled his way ever closer towards me, "you betrayed _all_ of us."_

_At the edges of the hollow the familiar faces of the dead faded into view, appearing out of nothingness to stand and stare at me, their fingers pointing at me in silent accusation._

"_We promised each other," Paul said once again, now so close to me I could smell the sweat on his skin and the blood as it continued to flow. "We promised to do the right thing Campbell, _you_ promised to look after my family."_

"_I did my best Paul," I screamed again, "I did my fucking best."_

"I did my best," I screamed, waking myself up violently. The sheets around me were soaked in sweat and I was shivering despite the warm night. I had started to sleep in my own room over the last few nights, much to Emily's disgust. The truth of the matter was I'd spent most of the week screaming myself awake and there was nothing that Emily or Joanna could do or say to fix it. Emily had begun to look more and more drawn as I ruined her sleep and I had promised to give her a chance to rest. She'd protested endlessly, telling me over and over again that her place was by my side, but finally she'd accepted her need to sleep, and mine.

It hadn't been my only reason for sleeping apart; but the other one was less easy to explain to her. I knew that on some level I needed to keep her away, to make things difficult for her, despite her attempts to put Sunday behind us. The thing was, I really didn't know _why_ I was doing it to her, I just was.

I wasn't proud of it; it just seemed to be what I needed to do.

I'd gone back to my old ways since that Sunday afternoon horror show, grabbing naps whenever I knew it was safe to do so; including, on one occasion, the sofa in Emily's office. It was my old combat tactic of getting some sleep whenever it was available; saving it up, not knowing when I would need it next.

It was the only thing that was getting me through the day, the only thing that was allowing me to function at all.

"Nomi?" I heard a sleep-thick voice say from the doorway as I sat on the bed, trying to calm my breathing. "Babe are you ok?"

"Yeah," I said as I felt the bed dip next to me and a pair of arms wrap around my waist. "Just another nightmare, that's all."

"I heard baby, why didn't you come to bed like you said you were going to?"

"Because you need your sleep Ems," I said, wrapping my arm around her shoulders. "We had this discussion, you're looking knackered and you've got some busy weeks ahead of you; it's not fair on you to lose sleep because of me."

"But it's Friday night Nomi, and I miss you; and I don't have to be in work tomorrow so it doesn't matter if I lose a bit of sleep. Besides," she said resting her head on my shoulder, "I'm losing sleep now aren't I?"

"I guess you are love," I replied kissing her hair, "and I should be yelling at you for it."

"But you're not going to are you?" Emily said slowly, snuggling into me deeply, her voice sounding exhausted; one thing I did know about my Emily was that she needed her sleep, and my little setback had been affecting her badly. I was actually feeling pretty guilty about waking her all the time; almost as guilty as she felt, in her eyes, for putting me here.

"No, I guess not," I said finally easing her already sleeping form down onto the bed and slipping the duvet over her, tucking her in carefully before laying down next to her and slipping my arm over her waist protectively. "I guess I'm not going to yell at you at all."

I snuggled into her back, slipping my knees behind hers and smiled as she shuffled backwards, her hand slipping back onto my hip and pulling me closer.

"Love you Nomi," she muttered as her nails gently traced the faint line of a scar, the result of an argument with a park swing when I was seven. I remembered how amused she had been when I told her how I had come by it; fascinated that this one at least, hadn't been caused by enemy action.

"Love you too Ems," I said softly, closing my eyes and allowing that faint smell of expensive body lotion fill my nostrils as I drifted off into a restless sleep once more.

o+o+o

Morning came and I was surprised to find our roles reversed, Emily tucked into my back, her arm wrapped around me tightly. I glanced at the clock, and was surprised to see that it was already gone ten, most of the morning vanishing in an exhausted haze. As I gently stretched out my aching leg I felt a pair of moist lips press to my shoulder, kissing the puckered skin that marked the exit wound left by Mikhail Kalashnikov's baby boy.

"Morning you," I said over my shoulder as Emily pulled me tighter and transferred her attentions up my shoulder blade and onto my neck.

"Morning," she replied briefly, in between those soft delicate kisses, hardly pausing for breath. "How are you feeling this morning, you better? Is there anything I can do to help?"

Her breath was soft against my ear, her voice low and sensual. Emily Fitch obviously had healing on her mind, in a Marvin Gaye kind of way. I stretched out the rest of my body, taking care not to disturb her, especially after she nipped me playfully, dragging me back after I tried to stretch beyond her reach.

"Where do you think you're going?" she said her hand stretching across my stomach, before reaching up to tease my nipple, "I've not finished with you yet."

"Really?" I said rolling over and reaching out an arm to stroke her cheek.

"Not even close," she said, kissing the back of my hand.

"Then I guess I'm feeling a lot better already," I said as I leaned in to kiss her.

"Good."

We lost the rest of the morning making love, not one of the passionate rumbles that had marked a lot of our relationship; those wonderful moments when you lose yourself and allow that combination of lust and love consume you utterly. No, this time our lovemaking was slow, and measured; tender but no less passionate for that. For me it was a moment of reconnection, a way of easing away the pain that I'd caused her by being a twat. A way of easing my own pain caused by the lack of contact that I'd enforced; punishing her, and ultimately me, for her actions on that horrible Sunday that now seemed so long ago.

o+o+o

"Shall we go into town for lunch?" Emily asked as I walked into the bedroom towelling my hair dry.

"Sounds good," I said flopping down onto the foot of the bed and getting a good 'notice' of her own freshly showered form. As she twisted her body into her best model pose a sudden thought flashed through my mind; "shit, you want to go shopping again don't you?"

It was the little bat of the eyelashes that totally gave her away, the little lowering of the eyes that told me I was right.

"You should be ashamed of yourself," I told her, forcing back a smile. "Seducing me so I would be in a good mood and agree to go shopping with you, that's terrible."

"I did no such thing," she said indignantly, "I _seduced_ you because you were lying next to me naked and I couldn't help myself, _shopping_ was the last thing on my mind at the time I assure you."

Ems paused for a second and eyed me up and down deliberately. "Though the idea of popping into Agent Provocateur is an appealing one; seduction and shopping in one place. That sounds like an Emily Fitch one stop shop."

"For you or for me?" I asked with a grin.

"It's a one stop shop lover," she said smiling and rolling onto her front, swinging her legs in the air, "that means for both of us of course."

"Well then, the thought of you doing a Kylie fills me with excitement," I said throwing my towel at her and heading into her bedroom to grab some clothes. "I hope you've got a mechanical cow somewhere at Fitch Manor," I called out over my shoulder.

"Didn't think Kylie would be your type Nomi," Emily said following me and throwing my damp towel into the linen basket in the corner of her bedroom, "I'm surprised."

"What can I say," I told her, raising an eyebrow, "I must have a thing for short, cute women."

"I am _not_ that short," she said shoving me causing me to bump into the wardrobe door with a loud thud. "However," she said pressing up against me, her warm flesh a contrast to the cold mirror my back was touching. "However, I will forgive you that insult just this once because you called me cute; you can do that all you want."

"Just not _short_ and cute?" I asked, pushing myself off the cold surface forcing her to take a step backwards then grabbing her and pulling her close once more.

"Definitely not," she said standing on her tiptoes and kissing my cheek. "Cute will do thank you very much; now get dressed, we have a date with food and Harvey Nic's."

"I thought you said Agent Provocateur," I said eyeing her suspiciously.

"Well," she said leaning in to kiss me again, "there too, if we've got time."

I got dressed with the unnerving feeling that shopping was not going to be an endless fashion show of Emily in expensive lingerie; on the contrary it seemed like yet another afternoon of watching her pick out work clothes and have her tell me a million things that I'd look good in, while stopping me buying stuff I actually wanted to wear.

"I wish you'd stop that babe," Emily said as I sat on the bed and pulled on my boots.

"Stop what?" I asked looking up, wrapping the laces around my ankle and tying them with a neat bow.

"Puckering your face and frowning, it's not going to be that bad you know; I wasn't _that_ serious about shopping. If you want, we could just go for a walk down by the river or something?"

"It's fine Ems," I said in my best 'it really is fine, but not really' voice, "if you want to go shopping we can go shopping."

"Why do you hate shopping so much Nomi?" Emily asked, dropping her light summer dress over her head and straightening it out in the mirror.

"It just bores me shitless hun," I told her simply. "When I go shopping I want to go in buy whatever I like and get out. No offence, but I'm not a fan of trawling through rack after rack of stuff to find something that I probably won't even try on, let alone buy."

"You'd really hate going shopping with my sister then," she said with a smile, flopping herself down onto my lap and throwing her arms around my neck; "she's a fucking nightmare when she's shopping, she makes me look tame by comparison."

"Thank heavens I'm with you and not her then," I said with a grin, my nose twitching from where she had cheekily kissed it. "That said though, doing something other than shopping or eating sounds good; I don't think we've ever done something like that together."

"We must have," Emily said frowning, "what about…" her voice fell away as she thought back over our relationship. I could almost see the cogs turning in her head as a myriad of expressions fall over her face before ending with a sad smile.

"You're right aren't you?" Ems said finally. "We've never really had a proper date like that have we? There's always been something else going on."

I was about to reply, about to correct her that we'd had dates like that when we were in America, but then I realised she was right. Our time together was always marked by something else, even if we weren't shopping or eating; her conference, her meetings, my training, the competition, even to some extent my therapy had continued to come between us just being normal. In all the time we'd been 'together' together we'd never just spent an entire day without something some sort of barrier appearing; something coming between us in some way shape or form.

"Well we're going to do something about that Naomi Campbell," she announced jumping to her feet and pulling off the dress she had just put on, leaving me staring at her in her underwear. "I've decided, you and I are having a proper day date together, lunch, a nice walk in the park, a few drinks, a meal and then we're going clubbing."

"Clubbing?" I said, watching her dig through her wardrobe for a different outfit, "don't you think we'll be a little underdressed to get into a club?"

"Not the way I'm planning our day baby," Emily said with a smile, pulling on a pair of jeans that were so tight they almost made my eyes water, "I'm looking forward to this already, today is going to be great, and tonight is going to be even better."

o+o+o

Lunch was had at a small café just inside Richmond Park, it wasn't much by Emily's standards, an open sandwich and a cup of tea, but then she said she was saving herself for a slap up dinner before we hit town.

Personally I thought that a bad idea, eating a fuck load of food and then going dancing sounded like a disaster waiting to happen to me, and I made a mental note to remind her of this later. After all, I did now know a really good burger van beloved by taxi drivers; and I knew how much a drunken Emily would just love a greasy burger and fries at one in the morning…even if it meant I might be holding that bright red hair later, and not in a nice way.

After a while we got bored of sitting around drinking overpriced tea and headed out into the afternoon sun. The heat had built quite nicely over the Royal Park and I was glad to see Emily lead me down a path that was slightly covered by trees. It was surprisingly pleasant just walking together around this little piece of the country in the middle of the town and I was feeling really quite chilled as we walked hand in hand. The park itself was huge and, apart from the sound of planes overhead and children playing nearby, it was easy to think you were in Wiltshire, or the Mendips or somewhere pastoral like that; somewhere far away from London anyway.

It became clear to me that Emily knew her way around the park, and that her path was anything but random. She weaved us though the trees and the interlocking pathways until we came into a wide area of grassland that looked as untouched as it possibly could be; presenting me with the view of a beautiful meadow with a broad expanse of water at the far end.

"What do you think?" Emily said girlishly, as if seeking my approval for her little vista.

"Nice," I said, scanning the grass and the trees for signs of danger, squinting my eyes behind my sunglasses to peer into the long grass.

"I like it," Emily said linking her arm in mine. "Sometimes you see the deer around here, sometimes not; it would be nice if we're lucky today. Are you up for a walk to the lake, see if we can spot any?"

I nodded and allowed her to lead me again, picking our way along a simple trodden grass path towards the distant water. The afternoon sun was beating down and I was glad that we'd thought to buy some sun cream from the stand near the car park.

"Nomi?" Emily asked as we walked, listening to the sound of birds chirping away their warnings to their rivals; "can I ask you something babe?"

"Pretty sure you just have hun," I told her teasingly, nudging her as we wandered.

"I'm being serious here baby," Ems replied disapprovingly, her arm twisting until she had hold of my hand.

"Should I be worried?" I asked as I squeezed her fingers.

"I don't know baby," she replied. "I wanted to ask you about the nightmares and why they've come back? I mean, you've not had one for ages, certainly not since we, well…"

"Yeah," I said interrupting her, knowing exactly what she meant. "I don't know Ems; Joanna and I discussed it. I have an idea, but I'm not really sure."

"Was it just an overload do you think? Was it just everything that happened on Sunday?"

"Not entirely," I said letting go of her fingers and taking a step away; staring out onto the horizon feigning interest in a figure by a clump of trees; "it was a big part of it of course, but not everything."

"Then what love, you can talk to me you know? About anything; _absolutely_ anything."

I sighed, trapped again in another one of Emily Fitch's ambushes. I wondered briefly if this had been her plan all along, changing my mind when I remembered the shopping, and the passion of the morning. This seemed to be nothing more than an opportunistic incident; she'd seen a gap in my defences once again and made for it with unerring accuracy, she really was a psychological fucking ninja.

I walked off the path and sat down in the meadow, tossing my jacket onto the ground to sit on before changing my mind and lying back on the long grass, staring up into the bright blue sky, marred only with thin white vapour trails and faint fluffy clouds.

"Nomi?"

Emily's face came into view above me, haloed by the sun those red curls gleaming like fire as the light seeped through them. I squinted up at her concerned looking face and reached up an arm toward her. With a smile on my lips I pulled Emily down to the grass next to me and wrapped my fingers around hers, staring skywards once more.

We lay silently for a few minutes, soaking up that warm summer heat, before I felt Emily fidget next to me and decided it was time to speak up.

"You know the last time I did this it was under a different sky," I said breaking the peace, "It's nice, I never get the chance to do something like this you know? Just lie back and look up."

"When did you last do it then babe," her voice said in my left ear, "was it in Afghanistan?"

"Ibiza actually," I said grinning to myself, "I think that was the last time I ever just lay back and sunbathed. Every holiday I had after that it was always go, go go; I never got a chance to just chill out."

"Why was that babe?" Emily asked opening a doorway to a conversation I wasn't sure she'd want to hear.

"The ex," I said wincing slightly as her fingers clenched around mine. "She isn't like you at all, she wouldn't have been content just walking through a park, or lying in the grass watching the clouds go by; she was always about the going and doing things, the being seen you know? Amy was never happy unless she was the centre of attention."

"She sounds like Katie's soulmate," Emily scoffed her fingers relaxing.

"They should get married," I laughed, "but then again two attention seekers like that would probably kill each other. Anyway, the reason I mentioned Amy is because Ibiza was the last time I relaxed like that, because that's where we met, and we only met because Whitey had got off with Gill and I never saw him after that. We'd gone for a fortnight's holiday in the sun, the plan was, apparently, a lot of drinking and some uncomplicated holiday shags; but on day three he met her and that was that."

"What was what?"

"Our holiday was what, Ems. Whitey was totally fucking smitten by her and that was our holiday together over; I'd gone away with my best mate with plans to hit every nightclub on the island, and I'd ended up on my own, with nothing to do all day but lie on a sun lounger by the hotel pool and recover from the night before."

"From all that 'uncomplicated shagging'?" Emily asked a jealous little edge to her voice.

"Oh yeah," I replied, over emphasising the sarcasm in my voice just to tell her how much of a lie it was. "Night after night of non-stop drinking and fucking. Women, men, goats, even a small Yorkshire terrier called Archie, I was like a Borgia; nothing was safe from me."

"Oh fuck you," Emily said, to my relief laughing away. "terriers, that's fucking perverse Naomi, I can't believe you even _thought_ of that, let alone said it."

"Well, you seemed to believe the worst about me a second ago love," I told her, "so I thought I'd see how far you thought I was prepared to go into that gutter."

"Oh shut up," she replied sniggering, "I don't think anything but good things about you Nomi, well apart from a few naughty thoughts along the way, but that's beside the point; so how does Ibiza fit into your nightmares coming back?"

"I don't know if it does exactly, but I think it's down to this…"

I paused as I rearranged my thoughts; my rant at Joanna had turned into an extended session that evening, an extended session where I examined and re-examined everything that had happened and what I had done since.

"I think I felt a bit trapped," I said finally, the release feeling good as I admitted my fear. "I wanted to get in that car on Sunday and fuck off, leave everything behind."

"Even me?" she interrupted suddenly sitting up and looking down at me, her voice pained.

"Let me finish Ems," I said softly, staring up at her as she removed her huge sunglasses to stare at mine. Her eyes squinted slightly before she nodded and allowed me to continue.

"Sunday was pretty traumatic for me, going to see Whitey's grave; you see Ibiza was the first time in years the two of us were separated. He'd met Gill and then fucked off and left me on my tod with fuck all to do with myself. Sunday kinda reminded me how much I really loved what we had, you know having someone that close in my life. It reminded me how much I missed having him around; I'd never had a friend like that, apart from my mum that is, I'd never had a friend that cared about me so much."

"I care Nomi," Emily said quietly, "you've got me now, there's no need for you to run away from me; I hope I'm your friend as well as your lover."

"I know Ems, and you are; I think that was the only thing that stopped me driving away from Gill's," I said taking a deep breath and preparing to open myself up even more.

"I stood by that car and I wanted to run, run away from everything that was fucking me up. Mum's right I guess, I am a coward; when things go to shit I run away from them. The only thing was I couldn't do it, I didn't want to leave you behind, but I couldn't face being that angry with you so I pushed you away."

"You said you'd forgiven me for Sunday," she said with a tear in her eye, "I know you were still mad at me but you said you'd forgiven me. Is that where this sleeping apart came from, were you trying to run away from me?"

"I guess," I replied, knowing my words would hurt, "I don't think it had anything to do with Gill love, not really; I think I was scared by how much I cared for you. I felt trapped Ems, trapped because I had nowhere to go and no desire to go anywhere else if I did, so I found another way to run, and discovered another way to fuck myself up all over again."

Ems sighed and wiped her eyes, dropping from my vision as she lay down onto the grass next to me again. There was a small silence between us before she spoke again.

"I should have known," she said finally, her voice flat, but not angry. "It all fits..."

"Fits?" I asked quickly, wondering what she meant.

"Yeah, it fits," she replied, rolling over and resting her head on my bicep, her arm flopping over my waist. "It fits with something you told me about not getting close to people after your friend Paul died, remember? You said you made a vow that you wouldn't allow people to get that close to you again."

"I remember," I replied, thinking about the time I'd admitted it, not long after I'd broken down at Fitch Manor. "That's what I did as well, I backed away and stopped making friends, friends like Paul anyway. I guess it scared the shit out of me that you were so close I couldn't run away; I guess I tried what I did to Amy, you know, give you an excuse to push me away."

"I'm not going to do that Naomi," Emily said forcefully, squeezing me hard. "I'm not going to _let_ you run away. This means something to me, means a lot to me actually; I'm not going to just let it go that easily."

"I don't think I wanted you to Ems," I replied with feeling, "I think, well Joanna and I think, that's a big part of why the nightmares have come back. See I think you're the one that keeps them away; and I think trying to shove you away, betraying what we had, added to my guilt."

"So, let me get this straight, "Emily said as I stared up into the sky once more. "You're saying that as well as having to deal with Paul and Gill, you were dealing with trying to run away from me, and feeling more guilt because of what you were doing?"

"No, I was feeling trapped because I _couldn't_ run away from you babe," I clarified, "I was feeling guilty because I was trying to make you walk away…I'm a fucking coward, same as ever."

"You're _not_ a coward Naomi," she near shouted, propping herself on her elbow and leaning over me. "You're the bravest person I've ever met."

"You're biased," I replied as she leaned down to kiss me.

"I don't care."

o+o+o

We didn't make it all the way to the lake in the end; in fact we didn't make it further than out little area of flattened grass, our clothes becoming mussed and grubby as we spent the afternoon just making out in the sun.

For the first time in my life I felt like a teenager, snogging in the park like I'd heard all the girls in my school going on about when I was growing up. It was an alien thing for me for sure, I'd never made it into the woods with anyone; though at least with Emily there was no chance of me ending up like a good proportion of my year had, pregnant as a result of their outdoor trysts.

"I wish we'd brought a blanket with us now," Emily said as we walked back down the path towards the exit, picking out the bits of grass from clothes and hair.

"It would have been a lot less messy," I confirmed with a smile, "but perhaps not as much fun."

"True," she said nuzzling into me, knocking me out of my stride, "I do like a bit of spontaneity, and quite frankly it's refreshing to see this side of you, it's not like you to be spontaneous, I like it."

"I can be spontaneous," I said indignantly.

"When was the last time you were truly spontaneous Nomi," she said laughing, "apart from our little roll in the hay just then?"

I thought for a moment before answering, and then thought a bit longer. If I was honest I _couldn't_ think of a time when I had been spontaneous like that, everything in my life was, to some extent planned, or forced upon me by others.

"See," she said stepping in front of me and wrapping her arms around my waist, "your silence speaks volumes Naomi."

"That's my line," I told her before being firmly silenced by her lips.

"I think we need to go shopping now Nomi," Emily said with a smile as she dropped onto her heels. "I don't think we'll get in anywhere looking like this."

I had to admit she was right, as far as our clothes were concerned we looked like we had been rolling around in a field, which of course we had been.

"We could always go back to yours and change," I offered.

"Ours Naomi, go back to _ours_, and no we can't…we can go and buy a few things on the way though; I've already booked us in at the restaurant and we won't have time to go home and change."

"You just want to go shopping Emily Fitch," I accused playfully.

"Of course I do, but that's not the point; it _is_ getting late babes, and we do have a booking at a pretty good Thai restaurant I know."

"That wouldn't be a certain Thai restaurant in Fulham would it? That's hardly on the other side of town hun; we could easily make it home and back, especially as I'm driving."

"Yes, but it's only just over the river from here love, and it would be stupid to go all the way home and then back again. We can grab some things on the way and get tidied up; we're just a bit mussed up that's all."

"Emily, we need a bit more than a change of clothes hun, we need a bloody good shower."

"Don't be silly Naomi, quick spray of some perfume and we'll be fine. Now stop stalling and let's get going before they close."

We walked back to the car chatting about everything and nothing, just one more couple in the park enjoying a romantic stroll as the afternoon turned inexorably towards evening. I was feeling much better after our brief sojourn with nature, and most of all I was feeling as close to my girl as I'd ever been. I'd explained myself to her, explained my thoughts, and she hadn't been angry; she hadn't even ridiculed me for my fucked up mental processes that had nearly messed us up.

Emily Fitch, I decided, was some kind of special; and as long as she was with me I suspected I'd be ok.

o+o+o

"How do I look Naomi?"

For the seventh time in the last twenty minutes Emily appeared from out of the changing rooms modelling her latest outfit. The main disappointment was we weren't in the Agent Provocateur store, we were in Harvey Nichols in Knightsbridge and I was bored out of my tiny mind.

Though the short dress she'd appeared in was of considerable interest to me.

"Nice," I told her as she gave me a twirl, feigning professional boredom; "very sexy, you'll wow them at the club." I meant it as well, despite my tone, she looked incredibly sexy.

"Sexy is good," Ems said running her hands down the tight blue material, "though I will need a pair of shoes to go with it.

"I have the perfect thing," Anne our personal shopper said with a broad smile; I rolled my eyes to Emily, _'I bet you do' _I thought _'and I bet they're really fucking expensive as well'_

"That's great," Emily said with the kind of smile that only sex or shopping could put on her face. "Now if I'm getting dressed up, can you get something for my grumpy bodyguard here, she's supposed to be inconspicuous not scary."

"Of course I can," Anne said eyeing me up and down once more. "I have something perfect in mind."

I scowled at Emily as soon as we were alone, not because she was sticking to the public story, but that she'd mentioned getting dressed up. That meant my jeans and a smart shirt idea was well and truly gone.

"Oh shush Naomi, did you really think we'd be able to get into a decent club dressed like we were? We looked like we'd been dragged through a hedge backwards."

"I'm your bodyguard Ems, I could get away with wearing anything; including, if you keep on like this, a really unflattering suit,"

"With huge shoulder pads?" she teased, ignoring my threat.

"With _huge_ fucking shoulder pads," I told her scowling; "and gigantic baggy trousers as well. I'll become a mad 1980's power dressing bitch instead of being your 'grumpy bodyguard'."

She just laughed at me and sat down on the bench seat, waiting for Anne to reappear. It didn't take long for her to bustle her way in through the door to the private changing room; her arms filled with goods.

"These will be just perfect with that dress," she said handing over a pair of blue heels that looked like they could prop up a skyscraper, "and for you, something special."

"You can fuck right off," I said forcefully as she held out a scrap of red cloth that appeared to be barely enough to polish my sunglasses with, "don't be so stupid I can't wear something like that."

"But…" Anne started to say before my glare halted her.

"I'm Miss Fitch's bodyguard Anne," I said pointedly ignoring the outfit she was offering. "I need clothes that are practical, not restrictive, and definitely not revealing; and I need flat shoes not stupidly high heels. It's my job to protect her, I'm not some Chelsea slapper out on the pull!"

"She also can't walk in heels and is quite sensitive about it," Emily said trying to defuse the situation; Anne looking really upset at my words, "just ignore her."

"I can if they're about a centimetre high and have fifteen lace holes," I said eyeing Emily's heels suspiciously, "or something like that anyway, I certainly can't walk in things like that."

"Right, I understand you; I have something in mind already," Anne said in her best reassuring voice, her face still ashen. "Give me a moment and I'll be right back."

She vanished again taking the offending garments with her and I watched her leave with some pleasure; turning back only when the door slammed closed behind her to find Emily standing looking at me, her foot tapping, her arms folded.

It would have been a hell of a lot more impressive if she didn't look so damn hot in her new outfit.

"You look great," I told her, watching her mouth twitch as she fought to keep her pout. "Really great...stunning in fact."

"Yes …sexy I believe you said" she said finally, "and_ you'd_ have looked really sexy in that dress yourself Nomi; if you'd have given it a chance…and did you have to tell her to fuck off like that? It was rather rude."

"It's my cover story love," I told her with a raised eyebrow, "and I'm not here to be liked by people remember? She needed to be told how ridiculous her choices were for someone in my job or it would have looked very suspicious. Besides, last time I took a clients advice on dressing inconspicuously I got into a fight and really wished I had a pair of combats on, my toes were bruised for days."

"I think you just _wanted_ to insult her babe," Emily accused, ignoring my defence and sitting down next to me on the bench once more. "I think you just didn't like her."

I was going to protest my innocence once again but I was prevented by two things; one she was right and two?

Well two was the fact that her dress had ridden up as she sat down giving me a good look at her perfect legs.

"Well, she was getting on my nerves I have to admit," I said eventually, adding a smile as Emily noticed where my attention was fixed and tried to pull down the offending hem, finally giving up when she realised it was far too short to work.

"I'm going to buy this dress I think," Emily said, getting up and admiring herself in the full length mirror once more, "I think it's really pretty, and the shoes are just fabulous."

I nodded my agreement as Anne appeared again, this time with a pair of smart looking boots and an expensive looking jeans, shirt, and jacket combo.

"That's more like it," I said with a smile I didn't really mean.

"I want these Anna, they're going to be just perfect for tonight. I would like to wear them when I leave," Emily added taking one last look in the mirror, "can I pay for them now, and have the labels removed please? I'd hate to get stopped by your security people for shoplifting."

They shared a small titter of fake laughter at Emily's conspiratorial wink and Anna looked positively eager to assist in any way; no doubt encouraged by the commission she would get on the breathtaking and breathtakingly expensive dress.

"Of course you can Miss Fitch," she said with a smile, holding out the hangers she'd brought with her to me. "I'll be more than happy to sort that for you, I can do it now while your bodyguard tries on the outfit I've selected; in fact if it would be easier for you I can simply put these items on your account, that way you wouldn't be delayed any more than you already have been."

She gave me a hidden dirty look as I left her standing there, arms and clothes outstretched; she had indeed been pissing me off, sucking up to Emily and ignoring me as soon as she found out I was the 'hired help'.

"Excellent," Emily said, ignoring our battle and replying with a cheery little grin, "go on then Naomi; quick, quick. My reservation is in an hour and I really don't want to be late. Go and smarten yourself up, or we won't get in anywhere; after all it's your fault we look a mess."

"Yes Miss Fitch," I said climbing up from the bench and heading not for the cubicle but the main door to the changing room, pulling it closed and placing a yellow cleaning sign behind it, ensuring it would topple if the door was opened.

"It will alert me in case someone tries to come in," I explained at their perplexed faces, "we can't be too careful Miss Fitch."

"No," she sighed as I collected the clothes and gestured for them both to sit down on the bench, "No Naomi, I guess we can't."

o+o+o

"Reservation for two, the name is Fitch," Emily said to the waiter with the extravagant moustache that approached us when we walked through the doors into the Blue Elephant restaurant. It was the first time I'd been in here and immediately my eyes and nose were overwhelmed. It was a madhouse of colours and greenery and the most wonderful scents; Emily and I had eaten out quite a bit in our time together, personally _and_ professionally, yet this place took the prize for the best first impression.

"Welcome back Miss Fitch," he replied, his accent thick, "it's so nice to see you here again. If you'd like to follow me your table is just through here as you requested."

"Eat here a lot Emily?" I asked as we were led through to a table at the back of the restaurant.

"We do, but I asked specifically for a private table," she replied as she walked ahead of me giving me a fantastic view of her arse tightly wrapped by the blue fabric.

"Useful," I said raising my voice so that the water and the other diners would hear, "anything that keeps you out of immediate danger, Miss Fitch, is ok with me."

We took our seats at the back of the restaurant; I insisted that Emily sit with her back to a wall and that I was positioned so I had a good view of the open areas, feeling slightly paranoid about the large quantity of greenery that obscured my view.

"Drinks?" the waiter asked as he handed over the impressive looking menus.

"Two large Pattaya's please," Emily said adding, "they're non alcoholic," quickly as I went to protest, "you'll love it honest."

"Certainly Miss Fitch," the waiter said

"So then Ems, what's good to eat here?" I asked as we were left alone.

"Pretty much everything actually," Ems replied with a smile, "what are you in the mood for?"

I raised an eyebrow at her and allowed my eyes to drift over her tits, pausing just long enough to cause her to blush slightly before looking back down at my menu.

"That's not very professional Miss Campbell," Ems said, composing herself with a smile, actually looking quite pleased.

"No," I admitted quietly, flicking my eyes to hers, "but then you are very distracting this evening."

"Really?"

"Definitely."

Our playing was interrupted by the waiter appearing with our drinks, two large glasses filled with fuck knows what. I glared at the menu, torn between items as the walking moustache hovered over my shoulder. I glanced up at Emily who hadn't even picked up her menu and frowned.

"Trust me Miss Campbell?" she said with a smile as I stalled for time, grumbling about the choice and the fact that everything sounded so good.

"Always Miss Fitch," I replied handing the menu to the waiter.

"She'll start with the Yam Hua Plee, then the Massaman with the sticky rice for main and we'll share a large Kanom Thai for dessert. For me, I think I'll have my usual; chef's choice please, whatever he thinks is best tonight, nothing too hot though, something really tasty."

"Certainly Miss Fitch," Moustache said as he took away the menus, "coming right up."

The waiter vanished leaving us in peace once more; my curiosity piqued I asked the current burning question of the moment…

"What the heck did you just order me Ems?"

"Wonderful things Nomi," she teased with a wink. "Basically it's banana flower and  
prawns for starter and a spicy braised lamb for your main. We're sharing a dessert selection so that'll be a surprise for both of us."

"What makes you think I'll like either of those things?" I asked with a smile at her obvious pleasure of being allowed to order for me. She always enjoyed being allowed to do that and, as she never really failed me, and it cost me nothing, I more than often let her.

"Because I know you Naomi," she said with a wink, "and the starter is a favourite of mine and the main is a favourite of mums; I don't think I can lose basically, even if you hate it you'd never say now you know that."

"Perhaps you're right," I said distractedly, watching out of the corner of my eye at a group of young men noisily walking in.

"To us?" Emily said softly and I realised she had picked up her glass and raised it to me.

"To us," I replied, raising my glass to her in salute. "Thanks for today Ems, I've had fun; I think I needed it."

"I think you're right baby," she said taking a sip of the fruity mixed drink that she had ordered. "I think we both needed it. Let's make it a good night, and do try to relax a little. You can have a bit of fun and we can tell dad that it was my idea, and that you were playing undercover cop, if he finds out we were out together and kicks off."

"I'll try," I promised, staring at the lads who were jeering at one of the waiters; just another bunch of drunken English louts out to cause mayhem. "I can't promise anything though Ems, I still have a job to do you know? I have to make sure you're safe and well when I take you home at the end of the evening."

"I know you do baby," Emily said winking at me, "and I love it when you're all protective like that."

I stared at her until she fell silent, my glass in my hand still halfway to my lips. I wanted to kiss her, wanted to tell her I loved her, wanted to say so many things that weren't really appropriate for where we were. Instead I settled for a simple compliment.

"You do look fantastic tonight my dear," I said as I finally put down my glass, causing her to blush girlishly once more. "It almost makes me wish we were back in the States again."

"Why's that?"

"Because if that dress of yours keeps taunting me like that, it's going to be very hard keeping my hands off you all evening," I told her with a cheeky grin. "Very hard indeed."

"Perv," Emily replied raising her eyebrows and staring at me. "But if you feel like that perhaps we should make it an early night; because I have to say your arse looks great in those jeans; it's like a perfect peach, makes me want to bite it."

"Perv," I mimicked with my tongue firmly in my cheek.

"Too right," Emily replied smiling raising her glass once more. "To our mutual perving on each other, long may it continue."

"Absolutely," I replied, clinking our glasses as the waiter approached with a tray filled with steaming food. "Long may it continue indeed!"

.

.

.

**Authors Note:** Meh…sorry, just meh, it gets better I promise.


	54. Dinner, Dancing and Drugs

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness, a heavy case of writers block, (every chapter is a struggle), and an ex I could still more than happily put in the Basement with Naomi, even now!

I still nothing to do with Skins, (but then do we care about Skins any more? We have our _own_ Skins).

**Authors Note: **Hello everyone…here's chapter 54, the chapter with a lesson. Enjoy

**Chapter 54 – Dinner, Dancing and Drugs**

Dinner at the Blue Elephant was outstanding, more than outstanding actually; a hell of a lot better than what I'd eaten the last time I'd been here. The food was great, as was the conversation and the company was even better. Emily and I spent our time discussing many things some serious, some less so. Amongst the random topics for discussion were the upcoming business trip to Iraq, a possible holiday for the two of us and of course her plans for what we would be doing for the rest of the weekend, though she adamantly refused to discuss what we were doing for the remainder of the evening.

"It's a surprise Nomi," she had said, her eyes glinting with suppressed mirth. "I'm afraid you're going to just have to trust me again."

As we paid the bill and I escorted Emily back to the big black Range Rover I was still using, despite JJ's promise of my replacement for the X3 being due soon, and ushered her into the safety of the blacked out back seats.

"So, where to Miss Fitch?" I said formally as I fastened my seat belt.

"Will you stop calling me that?" Emily said, slapping the back of my seat, her voice frustrated, "it was bad enough you kept doing it in the restaurant."

"Yes Ma'am," I said, sketching a salute into the rear view mirror; staring into her reflected brown eyes, a broad grin on my face. I was feeling quite happy right now, and I was feeling relaxed for the first time since Sunday; it was as if I'd been drinking, or had taken drugs, I felt that good. The natural high that Emily Fitch evoked sincerely rocked.

"Take us into town lover," Emily said with a laugh. "I know just the place for us to have a good time."

Following her directions, I parked the truck in a stupidly expensive car park and I followed Emily through the meandering streets of London; passing drunken merrymakers as we walked, despite the fact that it was still comparatively early in the evening.

"Should just about make it," Emily said looking at her watch and increasing her pace slightly.

"Are we working to a timetable or something?" I asked, wondering how she could move so fast in those high heels.

"Not really, but it would be nice to get in before it gets crowded," she replied turning a corner and out of my eyesight before I could blink.

"Emily," I called out as I sped up to follow her; "_Emily!_"

"What?" she asked sounding distinctly frustrated as I caught her up.

"Well firstly love, we're in no _real_ hurry so you can probably afford to slow down a bit; and secondly, please stop running away from me. I still have a job to do you know? It makes me nervous when you get out of my sight like that"

"Sorry babes," Emily said slowing down a little, "it's just, well I've not been out clubbing like this in years, pretty much since I left Uni actually, and I'm really looking forward to it."

"You're telling me you've not been out in all the time you've lived in London," I replied flabbergasted.

"Not with my _girlfriend_," she said simply, stressing the word. "I've been out a lot with Katie and her friends though and this place is a favourite of hers. Apparently there's a great DJ on tonight and I want to get in before he starts his set."

"You seem inordinately knowledgeable," I said, slightly suspicious of the amount of information she had at hand. "How did you find out about all of this?"

"The internet is a wonderful thing babe, as is having a smart-phone, and having a sister that's permanently attached to her email is even better," she said with a grin. "I asked Katie to call her contact here and get him to put us on the guest list. Well I hope that we're on the list anyway; bitch said she had arranged it for me."

"When did you do all this?" I asked slipping me hand from hers as we rounded a corner to see a line of people waiting outside the venue, careful to be as discrete as possible.

"While you were trying on that outfit of yours, I didn't have anything else to do after you locked us in so I used my time wisely and called in a favour."

"From your sister?" I asked as we walked up to the big guy on the door, getting annoyed looks from the people waiting in line.

"Yeah, she owes me one for covering for her when she went out with Effy last week and was too hung-over to come into work. We had a pretty massive meeting planned that I had to do alone."

"I didn't hear about that," I said as the bouncer checked his clipboard before opening the door and ushering us in.

"That's why she owes me one," Emily said offering her hand to get the stamp that would apparently allow us access to the upstairs VIP area. "I promised her I wouldn't tell anyone that she'd skived off and I told daddy dearest that she was off scouting venues for our next event. You'd have loved it, she practically begged me to keep it a secret from everyone."

"Even me?" I asked, wondering why Tim hadn't told me about Katie's little excursion.

"Well, no," she said sheepishly, "but I did say I'd only tell you if I needed to. She really was shitting herself; if dad had found out he really would have gone ballistic."

I shrugged my shoulders as I was stamped and allowed into the club. It didn't bother me that Emily had some secrets; I wasn't the jealous type like that. My ex had hated that there were things that I didn't tell her, but then her double standards were legendary.

The club was looking lively as we walked into the main chamber; the arched roof above us was filled with lighting rigs that were illuminating the crowd below with reds and greens, strobes and lasers cutting through the darkness creating that surreal world that only exists within the four walls of a club. As we headed for the stairs Emily began dancing, gyrating around sexily her hands above her head as she allowed the music to consume her. The house DJ was warming up the crowd and the dance floors were crowded with bodies; men and women cavorting around in the great cattle market melee that was people on the pull. Emily was getting a lot of appraising looks as she weaved her way through the crowd on her way to the lounge.

"This is going to be great," she yelled, a broad smile on her face. I nodded at her as we were allowed through the rope and up the stairs to the balcony area that overlooked the dance floor. "Will you relax a bit? That's an order!"

"Trying to give me orders again Miss Fitch?" I shouted raising an eyebrow at her.

"Absolutely, large vodka and lemonade please," she replied with a cheeky wink that made me smile like a twat. I was still smiling as I waved down a bartender and ordered some drinks, handing over the cash with a small wince at the prices.

"Here," I yelled handing over her drink as the sound system continued to thump away the tunes, the floor vibrating under our feet.

"Thanks babe," Emily said, leaning close to shout in my ear. "You want to get away from the bar?"

I nodded and we walked over to the balcony, looking down at the heaving throng below us, Emily continuing to dance away, driving me close to insanity as she twisted and writhed, the tight blue dress making my pulse race more than the electro music that filled my ears.

Three drinks later and Emily was obviously enjoying herself; teasing little caresses disguised from the masses as innocent moves, accidental slips, and friendly touches. I could see in her eyes she knew exactly what she was doing, and that she was loving every second as well.

"Having fun?" I yelled, leaning down and placing my lips against her ear, allowing them to brush against her cheek as I pulled away. The effect was instantaneous, the cheeky look in her eye turning into something darker, that unmistakeable look of lust that I come to know so well.

"Not as much as I'd like," she shouted back, downing the rest of her drink in one go. "But there's time for that later…let's go dance Naomi; the set is about to start and I _really _want to dance."

I spent the next hour or so on the lower floor, surrounded by sweaty bodies dancing away. It was fun to be able to lose myself a little; even though I spent a lot of the time moving Emily's admirers on as politely as I could. To her credit Emily seemed extremely experienced at avoiding the unwanted attention and my job was made that much simpler because of it. In fact there was only one drunken young boy who ignored her brush off and felt it was appropriate to lay hands on my girl.

I let him go when he finished apologising, and I only bent back the offending fingers a little bit. I did enjoy watching him vanish into the crowd as soon as I released him though, for all her wiles Emily hadn't totally tamed me yet.

"Thanks baby," Emily said, leaning in close and hugging me, "what a prick."

"Yeah, well I doubt he'll bother you any more hun," I replied as she kissed me on the cheek, "you can go back to enjoying yourself again."

"He's fantastic isn't he?" Ems said gesturing at the DJ, "I've wanted to see this guy for ages, thanks for bringing me Nomi."

"My pleasure," I yelled back, thinking that I didn't really bring her, nor get a choice in our ultimate destination. It didn't matter though, Emily was having a good time, and that was all that mattered to me right then; all the rest of my worries slipping behind me as I focussed on her, and my job.

o+o+o

Half an hour after our little incident the DJ's set ended, and we made our way back upstairs for a drink and a much needed rest. Despite my increased fitness I was feeling a dull ache in my right leg and I was looking forward to finding a table and taking the weight off it. Thankfully for my leg, it was a quick trip to the bar and then, with drinks in hand, we weaved our way to the quiet area at the back of the lounge only to have the shock of our lives.

"Fancy meeting you two here," Effy Stonem said from a table where she was sat with Katie with Tim standing off to one side. "Why don't you both join us?"

"What the hell are you doing here?" Emily said staring at her sister in disgust.

"You can blame me for that Emily," Effy answered for her, "I fancied a night out on the town, and Katie here mentioned that you two were coming here; I thought it would be nice to catch up. I've not seen either of you since the Expo."

"So much for our quiet date," Emily muttered to me as she went to sit down on the seat next to Effy, "I knew it was too good to last."

"Yeah, well we've had a good day so far Ems," I said, slipping onto the chair next to Katie, "there's no need for it to end just because we've bumped into these two."

"Aw are you two out on a proper date or something," Effy said smiling, "Katie never said."

"Katie didn't know," Emily replied, "we're trying to have fun _and_ be discrete about being together. Officially Naomi's here as my bodyguard, and I'd like it to stay that way too."

"Undercover again Naomi?" Effy said with a wink in my direction, sipping at something that looked suspiciously like a gin and tonic.

"What can I say," I replied, "when you have a good idea it's worth sticking to." I gestured at the glass in her hand with a frown, "is that really good for the baby Eff?"

"It's only water Naomi," Effy sighed, "stop fussing will you?"

"Oh, sorry mate, "I apologised quickly spinning my own glass in my hand. "Jinx!"

"Cheers," Effy replied with a smirk, "Shit isn't it? I've quit smoking and now I've quit drinking too, well I'm allowed a small glass of wine every now and again, frankly it sucks."

"Allowed?" Katie asked shaking her head, "You're not actually listening to Naomi's bullying are you?"

"I am actually Katie; if I don't, she's liable to throw my drinks over me. She cost me a fortune in cigarettes in the States when I told her I was pregnant, she kept nicking them and throwing them away."

"Good for her," Ems said patting my shoulder, "it's a disgusting habit and she should bully you about it, and the drinking, you deserve it."

"Perhaps I do, but I am being good now, though it's actually James that's bullying me the most," Effy said laughing at her stern face. "He's the most protective father to be in the fucking world. I love him to bits but he really can be a pain in the arse sometimes."

"Where is Cook?" I interrupted, wondering why he wasn't with them. I knew he was back in the country but I'd not seen hide nor hair of him since he'd arrived, e-mails and texts being our only contact.

"He's in Paris right now, talking business with some corporate type," Effy said with a sad smile. "I spoke to him before we came out though; he wanted me to send his love."

"He sent me his love?" I replied raising an eyebrow.

"Not in the slightest," she laughed, "he actually told me to tell you to stop enjoying yourself with your girlfriend, and 'do some proper work'; but I think he was joking…at least a little bit."

Cook's humour, even from another country managed to break the ice a little and we relaxed for a bit. I even managed to allow myself to take a bit of a breather, knowing that Tim was nearby doing his job too.

"She looks happy," Katie said suddenly from beside me, her voice slightly slurred from the drink.

"Yeah," I replied noncommittally, not sure which one from Emily or Effy she was referring to. Katie had been a bit weird with me since our conversation on the flight to the US and I really didn't know how to take her comments; especially with the little jibes she had been making whenever Rob was around.

"You don't like me really do you Naomi," Katie said, shocking me slightly with her question. I tried to answer but she simply prodded me with a finger and shook her head.

"It's ok you know, it's ok if you don't like me; I'm not desperately fond of you either."

I went to protest, I didn't not like Katie, it's just we were totally different people; we didn't have a lot of common ground, apart from Emily and the rest of the family. Before I could open my mouth, however, the brunette continued, perhaps demonstrating she wasn't as drunk as I thought.

"I do respect you though, as much as it causes me pain to admit it. You seem to be good for her, and you haven't hurt her yet…though if you pull a stunt like last week again and I _will_ mess you up."

"She told you about that," I said, glancing at Emily who was still deep in conversation with Effy.

"She didn't have to, she's my sister; I know when she's upset, fucking hell I've used it against her myself often enough."

"And you're proud of that are you Katie?" I asked narrowing my eyes. She fixed me with her own glare before replying.

"Are you proud of what _you've_ been doing Naomi?" She asked, convincing me that she definitely wasn't as drunk as she was making out. I inclined my head by way of an answer. "Thought not," she finished shaking her head and running her hand through her hair in a way that reminded me of Emily so much it was scary.

"Just don't do it again Naomi," she threatened, her voice serious, and caring, and not at all like the selfish bitch she normally portrayed herself to be.

"I have no intention of doing anything again Katie," I replied sweetly, "Emily and I are fine, I was a bit messed up this week and I needed a bit of space, but it's sorted now. Or it was until you two turned up to ruin our date."

"Some date," she snorted looking across at her sister; "swanning about pretending not to be together. I'm sure that's fantastic for both of you."

"It's not ideal," I replied shrugging, "but then when someone keeps making nasty little jibes to their father that hint at our relationship; well, you'll just have to forgive us if we feel the need to be extra discrete."

I watched her face fall slightly as she registered the hit, before raising an eyebrow at me and smiling sweetly.

"She likes you Naomi so I'll let you have that one; but I will still hurt you if you cause her pain," Katie said leaning closer to disguise her threat. "We may not have the greatest connection in the world but she's still my baby sister and I still love her. Emily's had enough shit in relationships in her time and she deserves a lot fucking better than she's had. So basically _love_ if you're planning on fucking her about again, may I suggest you fuck off and walk away now?"

"Same goes to you Katie," I said with an icy barb to my voice. "It's my job to look after her now and I promised someone that I would do just that, even if it meant protecting Ems from herself _or_ you. Quit your bullshit Katie; stop trying to cause trouble for us. Do anything to hurt her, either directly or indirectly again and you will answer to me, whether it costs me my job or not."

We glared at each other for a second; a Mexican standoff of steely eyes hidden beneath smiling faces. Even in the darkness that was punctuated only by soft neon lighting and the flashing of the lightshow from the ground floor I could see her mind working. It was just like watching someone you were interrogating, looking for the signs that the other person would break.

Katie Fitch-Brace was giving no such signs; on the contrary she was looking at me calculatedly, gauging how serious I was. Eventually, I saw a change in her iris that told me she'd made up her mind, whatever that meant.

"Fair enough," she said finally raising her glass, "that'll work for me; to burying hatchets?"

I clinked our glasses with a genuine smile and a stifled breath of relief. Amusingly I caught a wink from my girl out of the corner of my eye; I turned fractionally and she nodded at me approvingly, before turning back to Effy and continuing their conversation. I watched with some concern as Katie frowned at the two of them for a second before necking the rest of her drink with a flourish.

"Right, my round," she said grabbing her clutch bag and sliding off her chair, "more water for you losers I guess, Ems?"

"Beer for me Kay, and make sure it's a cold one."

Katie rolled her eyes and headed off to the fancy central bar; I gestured at Tim who nodded and followed her, staying at a discrete distance.

"So, out on the town with my sister?" Emily said to Effy as soon as we were alone, "When's the wedding?"

"Oh fuck off," Effy replied rolling her eyes, "she's like a limpet these days, last time we went out we were followed by the fucking pap's; couldn't move for flashbulbs and cameras. I'm sure she called to let them know where we were."

"Sounds awful," I said biting my lip, "because we know how much you hate the cameras 'glamorous Effy Stonem' how many times did you stop and pose for them when we were out that time."

"There's a time and a place though Naomi and this wasn't one of them. I wanted a quiet night out and I didn't get one; you owe me big time for doing this."

"You volunteered," I said, finishing my drink and placing the glass on the table. "I hope Katie hurries back, I need the loo."

"And you need her to come back for that?" Emily said laughing at me. "Should I be jealous?"

"No, I just need Tim to come back and keep an eye on you while I'm away. You know, just in case."

"Oh for heavens sake Naomi, what's likely to happen here? Go to the toilet, we'll be fine."

I stood up and looked around; Emily was right, there were no obvious signs of danger in the lounge, but it wasn't in my nature to take chances."

"Naomi, what have you been doing about that while you and Emily have been out?" Effy said with a cheeky grin on her face; a grin she could have stolen from her fiancée. "Have you been going to the bathroom together?"

"We might have," Emily replied, sticking her tongue out at Effy cheekily. "Not as if that would raise any eyebrows is it? Girls go to the bathroom together all the time."

"I guess not," Effy said with a wink, "not unless there's a lot of noise coming from your cubicle; that might make people wonder a little."

"I'm not really that kind of girl Eff," Emily said with a slight blush. "Besides, we have a pretty serviceable bed or two at home, no need to go shagging in toilet cubicles. Though it does sound exciting, dangerous even" she added, winking and blowing me a kiss. "Perhaps later, what do you think babe?"

"Emily…" I said a note of warning in my voice.

"Oh don't be so prudish Nomi," she replied, the alcohol lowering her filters.

"Yeah Nomi," Effy said teasingly. "You can't tell me you haven't had a tryst in a bathroom before."

"I haven't," I replied shaking my head, "I'm not that kind of girl either, I've never shagged at the bottom of a garden unlike some people here."

"Emily have you shagged at the bottom of a garden?" Effy said overacting a shocked face that Macaulay Culkin would have been embarrassed by.

"Not me Eff, she must mean Katie," Emily joked, "that would not surprise me in the slightest."

"Nothing wrong with a bit of fun in a garden Emily," Eff said with a smile in my direction.

"I think I'd prefer a field," Emily said avoiding my glare her lips twitching. "A nice meadow on a summer's day you know? Nothing but the birds to disturb you, a blanket on the ground making love under the sun; I think that would be just heavenly."

"You're just an old romantic Emily," Effy laughed as Katie finally returned, "big house in the country, dreams of summers days and meadows..."

"Sounds fucking awful," Katie interrupted as she sat down and starting distributing the glasses that Tim had carried for her. Almost instantly the twins fell into a squabble about their country home, a home that most of us would kill in which to live.

"Keep en eye on those two Tim," I said with a wink at my colleague, as I headed for the bathroom. "Try to stop anyone killing them, including each other."

o+o+o

The clock was well past midnight when I found myself stood on the stairs looking over the sea of people watching as Emily, Katie and Effy danced away below me. I needed a breather, the closeness of the dance floor getting too much for me.

I'd never really had a problem with crowds, but the mass of writing bodies had begun to get on my nerves; being jostled and elbowed by uncaring dancers had started off being frustrating, then irritating and then downright annoying. I'd took myself away, but not too far, certainly not far enough to put any of them at risk though; Tim and I having all the angles covered.

It was hard to keep an eye on everyone in that heaving mass of people, but Emily's bright red hair made my job that bit easier. I could easily see her from my lofty position her lithe body gyrating as the heavy base thumped, making both my chest and the handrail I was leaning against throb. It was interesting to watch the three girls as they danced; Emily's totally innocent sensuality as she moved in time with the music, totally oblivious to the looks she was getting, Effy's nonchalant movements that were totally out of time to the rest of the crowd; as usual dancing to her own beat. Of the three of them only Katie seemed to be paying attention to the people around her, only Katie seemed conscious of the effect she was having on the men around her. Only Katie seemed totally intent on flirting with as many men as she could, and there were plenty of them there for the taking.

Katie Fitch-Brace was a prick tease; that was something that was very clear from up here. I just hoped that Tim was aware of it too.

As I looked out across the dance floor I saw a familiar shock of red hair heading toward me, arms aloft, hips swinging as she weaved her way through the frenetic clubgoers.

"Hey," Emily shouted as she reached my landing, placing her hands on my waist and putting her lips to my ear. "Why did you go?"

"Needed a breather," I shouted back, barely audible over the sound of the music.

"You should have said," Ems replied, her fingers twitching on my sides, surreptitiously stroking me.

"I did," I shouted back, "I thought you heard me."

She shook her head, her hands slipping around my back. "Is this wise," I shouted, "it's a bit public here."

"I don't give a shit," she replied, "who the fuck is going to see us, or care? Look at this place Nomi, it's heaving; we're just another couple here, no-one knows who we are."

I shrugged conceding the point; looking around us I couldn't see anyone that was in the slightest bit interested in our presence. Only Effy seemed to have noticed that Emily had gone, and I couldn't help thinking that I'd have been surprised if she hadn't. She was an observant girl Effy Stonem; in another life she would have made a great CPO. I got a wave from the brunette as our eyes met across the dance floor, and I raised a hand in salute, before soft fingers caressed my cheek.

"You're looking truly beautiful tonight Nomi," she said into my ear. "Really, truly, beautiful."

"Only because I'm with you Emily," I replied sincerely, grateful that her heels put her on roughly my level. "I'm simply a mirror for your own good looks; all that I am is because of you."

"Charmer," she giggled, sounding pleased at my flattery. "Where did you learn lines like that, in the Army?"

"Maybe," I said as I pulled back to look at her. "Just because I was a squaddie doesn't mean I can't be poetic now and again; especially when I'm inspired by someone so lovely."

She stared at me, her eyes soft, the hint of a tear in those incredible orbs. "Always a surprise you are," she said pressing herself close to me. "I fucking love you."

"You're drunk," I told her, "but I love you too."

We stood there on that landing for an eternity, the sound of the club fading into the background; nothing in my awareness but my Emily. As if in slow motion we moved closer and closer, our eyes locked together; messages of love and affection being sent without words, transmitted only with that strange mental telepathy that exists when you find the one person that changes your life for the better.

As time slowed down, I could feel her soft breath tickling my nose, the faint aroma of alcohol, spices, and mint, all mingling with the perfume she was wearing. When our lips were merest nanometres apart Emily broke our most intimate of contacts, closing her eyes, allowing me to do the same. The world around us stood still as my lips met those of the woman I loved above all things and with no regard for the risk of exposure I kissed her as if my life depended on it; lost in the moment as she kissed me back. We had kissed many, many times throughout the day, but none were better than that.

Perhaps it was the risk, perhaps it was just the moment, perhaps it was a million and one things between us that I'd never be able to identify. It didn't matter, this was a defining moment in our relationship for me, and somewhere beneath me I felt the earth shift so far on its axis it fell off, tumbling into the void forever.

We broke apart with an embarrassed laugh at our foolishness and I looked around us to see if anyone had noticed. The sounds of the club came swiftly back into focus and reality sped up around me until I was suffocated by the lights and the music and the movement once more. I looked at Emily, just in time to see her lick her lips and open her eyes.

"I love you," I mouthed at her, smiling as her face lit up. I leaned in close once more, and felt her body shudder slightly as my lips brushed her cheek. "Want to go and get a drink hun?" I asked; "it must be my round."

"I need to go to the bathroom first Nomi; that's why I came to find you. I thought you'd want to come."

"Not my style Ems," I joked, knowing exactly what she meant, "but I'll happily stand outside and make sure no-one disturbs you."

"Thanks," she shouted leaning back with a fake pout at my teasing. "Come on then, I'm bursting."

o+o+o

The night continued after Emily's little bathroom break, a few more drinks and a lot more dancing; eventually though Emily and I found ourselves in the VIP lounge taking a breather.

"Katie's having fun," a familiar voice said in my ear.

"Indeed," I replied, "I hope she knows what she's doing Eff, she could get herself into a lot of trouble with the game she's playing."

I'd been watching Katie for the last half hour as she flirted with a tall good looking lad with stubble and shining dark hair. He was a classic pretty boy model type and he'd hooked onto Katie like a leech, and she was obviously flattered by it.

"She's probably hoping Captain Fantastic hears about it," Emily said referring to Katie's absent husband. "I put money on the fact that he's been neglecting her and she's playing with him to make herself feel better."

"I thought they were really happy together," I said taking a sip of my iced water. "The files I saw on her said they had a really happy marriage, and neither of them has ever played around."

Oh they haven't," Emily replied shaking her head emphatically, "as far as I know they're both totally faithful, it's just sometimes Katie likes to remind him that she exists in her own right; rather than as an accessory for him."

I stopped listening, watching instead the interplay at the bar, I'd seen something out of the corner of my eye as Emily spoke and it was something that didn't look right. I was out of my chair in a second and heading for the bar, aiming straight for pretty boy.

"May I?" I asked taking the glass of champagne out of his hand and passing to Katie, taking hers and holding it out. "I wouldn't drink that one if I were you _Mrs_ Fitch-Brace, here drink this one instead."

"Who the fuck are you?" pretty boy sneered, "and what are you doing with my girls drink?"

"This is my sister's bodyguard Shane; I told you we were important," Katie slurred, placing a hand on his chest. I glanced over pretty boy's shoulder to Tim who was looking at me with a furrowed brow. I squinted my eyes and flicked them towards one of the bouncers who was stood guarding the top of the stairs, keeping the riff raff out. To my relief he worked it out, nodded, and slipped from view.

"Take a drink, Shane," I said again, proffering the glass to him, knowing I was right when he unconsciously backed away.

"Is there a problem here Naomi," Emily said appearing next to Katie who was staring daggers at me.

"Nothing I can't handle Miss Fitch, a little trouble with pretty boy here is all. I offered him a drink and he seems reluctant to accept…I wonder why that is? He was quite keen for Mrs Fitch-Brace to drink it."

"What are you trying to say bitch," the model said stepping backwards, sidling away from the scene of his crime.

"I'm trying to say that you're very reluctant indeed to swap drinks with my client here Shane, but you seemed very keen on her drinking it, especially after I saw you slip something into it."

"Fuck this," Shane shouted, turning to walk away, "I'm not standing here to be insulted by your pet dog Katie; I thought we had something going here, I don't need any bullshit."

"Not so fast Shane," I said placing the glass into Emily's hand and grabbing him by the shoulder. "I think we need a chat about what it was you put in my clients drink here."

To my surprise he turned around swinging, not the wild roundhouse I would have expected from someone drunk, but a fast and dangerous short armed jab that caught me just below the right eye. As I blocked the follow up I managed a hit of my own, a swift blow to the solar plexus that knocked the breath out of him. I saw movement from my right and turned to assess the danger; riding another hit to the right side of my face as I did so, kicking myself that it was only one of the bouncers that had distracted me and put me in danger.

Shaking my head to clear my vision, I turned back to the pretty boy; he obviously knew his stuff, getting two good hits on me proved that, but he held his hands up like a boxer and that was his mistake. Boxers often forgot in a fist fight that they didn't have the thick padded gloves to assist with their guard, and his muscle memory had given me an opening I knew I could take.

It was over in a second, I saw the drop of his shoulder that told me a blow was on its way and I stepped forward, closing the distance between us and unloading a devastating combination, a quick one two that punched through the huge gap in his guard, the right jab crunching into his nose, the left cross rocking his square jaw and glazing his eyes. As I pulled back my arm to hit him again, to see how glassy his jaw was to a proper punch, I was grabbed roughly from behind.

"Not me you dickhead grab him," I shouted, struggling to get free, "don't let him get away."

I didn't want pretty boy to escape while the bouncers had the wrong person and I was pleased to see one of the black clad meatheads hauling the unsteady boy to his feet.

"What happened Miss Campbell," Tim asked from behind me, and I realised it was his hands that were holding me firm.

"This bitch attacked me for no reason," Shane screamed, blood trickling down his face from his nose. "I want her arrested; call the police. I'll sue you for everything you have bitch, _everything_ you have."

"Call the police," I said carefully, relaxing against Tim's grip. "I'm sure the witnesses will confirm that you threw the first punch, and I'm sure they'll be fascinated to know what's in the drink that Miss Fitch is holding, or indeed the contents of your pockets."

Shane froze in the bouncer's grip, before launching into another rant about my 'assault' of him and how it was going to affect his work. I'd not missed the fact that the bouncer that held him had increased the firmness of his grip, and that Shane had no opportunity now to escape.

"I think we should take this somewhere quieter," a man in a sharp suit said appearing next to Emily; "my office perhaps." He gestured towards the back of the lounge and with some feeble protests from the pretty boy, still locked in the firm grip of the bouncer; we made our way across the lounge and through the door.

It was the silence that I noticed first, the slight ringing in the ears that you get every time you leave a nightclub. As the door closed behind us, the noise from the VIP lounge vanished. We made our way down a short corridor and into a tiny office.

"Now then, what the hell was all that about?" The sharply dressed man exclaimed walking behind a glass desk and turning towards the two of us.

Shane immediately started his babble, claiming that I'd hit him for no reason while he was drinking with Katie. Katie didn't say a word, staring instead at her erstwhile suitor in disgust.

"I saw this guy throw the first punch Mr Powell," The bouncer holding Shane said, his deep voice rolling around the room. "But this lady did attempt to grab him by the shoulder as he walked off."

"and you are?" the man asked, suddenly turning towards me.

"Naomi Campbell," I said holding out my hand. "I work for a company called Close Protection and I'm in charge of the Fitch family's personal security. Along with my colleague here I was escorting Katherine and Emily Fitch on their night out at your establishment." Powell ignored my hand, stared at the ceiling and muttered to himself incomprehensibly before looking back at me.

"So," he started his voice sounding annoyed, "Miss Campbell, please tell me why a bodyguard assaulted a customer in my nightclub for buying someone a drink, and tell me exactly why I shouldn't call the police?"

"I've already said that I'd _like_ you to call the police Mr Powell," I said formally. "In fact I'd hoped that you already had done so. The reason I was trying to stop this gentleman leaving was that I saw him slip something into the glass Miss Fitch here is holding, before he passed it to Mrs Fitch-Brace. When I challenged him on it he tried to walk away."

"You challenged him on it?"

"I did," I replied, "I gave him a discrete opportunity to prove me wrong."

"And just how did you do that Miss Campbell," he said sighing and sitting down in the plush looking leather desk chair.

"I swapped their drinks, and I asked him if he'd like to sample the one I thought he'd doctored."

"You swapped their drinks?" he replied, putting his head into his hands.

"She tried to force me to drink it," Shane interjected.

"I _asked_ you to drink it Shane," I replied, "You refused and tried to sneak away after I mentioned that I'd seen you put something into the glass. When I tried to stop you was when you assaulted me; I was merely defending myself."

"You had to come to my fucking nightclub didn't you," Powell said sighing dramatically. "You got anything you want to tell me young man?"

Shane shook his head, dabbing at his nose with a handkerchief. "I've told you the truth, now I want her arrested for assault, and I'm phoning my solicitor. I'll sue you for false imprisonment and defamation of character. This could have a major impact on my public work and you're not getting away with it."

"Inspect his pockets Jack; carefully of course. Let's not give the gentleman cause for further complaint."

"You can't search me," Shane exploded at his words, "I have rights..."

"…and we have a customer search policy; you might have seen it when you came in, or in the upstairs lounge, or indeed all over the club. We have a strict no weapons, no drugs policy, and we take it very seriously. By coming in here you agree to let us search you if we have suspicions, and I think the allegation made against you counts as suspicion."

The bouncer called Jack slipped on a pair of rubber surgical gloves and patted Shane down, pausing on a lower pocket in the jacket and reaching inside.

"This is outrageous," Shane shouted; a final, desperate attempt to stop his search. You didn't need to be an ex-Red cap to know that he knew the jig was up, you could tell from his protests, from his body language and from the fear in his eyes.

"Something here boss," Jack said pulling out a small clear bottle and squinting at it.

"What's that, GHB, or Rohpy, or something?" I wondered out loud, squinting at the bottle.

"They're my eye drops," Shane said quickly, "for my hay fever."

"In an unlabelled bottle," Emily said, speaking for the first time. "I don't think so, and why would you put your eye drops into my sister's drink."

"Call the police Mr Powell," I said firmly, "We can do this quietly, get them to come in discretely rather than though the front door. I'm sure my clients want as little publicity in this matter as you do."

Powell thought for a while before nodding and taking a phone from his pocket, moving to the back of the room to make the call that I knew would seal Shane's fate. I looked across at Emily and smiled, only to find her looking at me concernedly.

"May I?" I asked, mimicking the question that I had started all this with, reaching out for the glass that she was holding. She handed it over carefully and I noticed she'd placed a coaster over the top, preventing the liquid from spilling.

"Exhibit A," I said, glaring at Shane, placing it on the desk nest to the bottle that Jack had put there, "and B. I think you might need that lawyer pretty boy; I _hate_ scumbags like you, and I'm going to make _damn_ sure that you never get the opportunity to try something like this again. Even if the Fitch family decide not to press charges, let me assure you that I'm going to press charges for your attack on me. If I have my way you'll never have the opportunity to drug a young lady again…ever."

"Fuck you," he said with a hint of bravado still in him.

"Fuck her?" I heard Katie shout lunging at him with hate in her eyes, Tim intervening just in time. "Fuck you, you fucking creep, try and fucking _drug_ me would you. I'll fucking _end _you. Not press charges? Not a fucking chance lover boy, when my father finds out about this he's going to make sure you get locked up for a very long time."

"For what?" he sneered, enraging Katie once more; Tim having to hold her back from clawing his eyes out. "grow up little girl, you've got nothing on me."

"Well," I said in my best MP's voice, "if it is GHB or something similar we've found on you then it's possession of a class 'C' drug; that's two years and an unlimited fine. Then there's what you have it here for, if we could swing it that you're dealing then it could be longer. If it's for personal use then we have fact that you placed it into someone else's drink without their knowledge and that's getting a little more serious. You see I intend to inform the Police that it's my suspicion that you drugged Miss Fitch's drink with the intention of enabling a drug assisted sexual assault, and that's a crime under the Sexual Offences Act 2003. For your information, that could lead to a sentence of up to ten years in prison and you'd be placed upon the sex offenders register. Good luck finding work after that."

Pretty boy's face paled as I spoke, the bravado visibly draining from him. "I'd calm down Mrs Fitch-Brace," I said turning to Katie; "let's not give him anything he can use against us, lets make sure the full weight of the law is on our side."

"You seem very knowledgeable about all this Miss Campbell," Powell said returning from the back of the room.

"I'm ex-Military Police," I said dismissively, "it was my job to know the law on this kind of thing, and it doesn't really go away."

Powell slumped back down into his chair and looked at me appraisingly. "Well the _civilian_ police are on their way Miss Campbell; I suggest we all wait in here until they arrive, would you like to use my bathroom to get cleaned up while you wait?"

I looked at him quizzically wondering what he was on about; before I could ask, however, Emily took charge. "Come with me Naomi, let's get you sorted out," she said taking my arm and leading me towards the door at the back of the office. "Tim would you keep your eye on my sister and Effy please; just in case."

She closed the door behind us and immediately pulled me into a tight embrace, sniffing as she buried her head into my shoulder.

"Hey it's ok," I said rubbing her shoulders soothingly, "we caught the fucker before he could hurt Katie, it's all good."

"He hurt you though babe," she said stepping back and gesturing to the mirror, "the bastard hurt you."

I looked into the small cracked mirror above the grimy basin and saw what she meant; below my, now blackening, eye was a long gash on my cheekbone, a cut that had been trickling blood down my face. I'd not really felt it, lost in the dull ache that was the result of the first punch. I could only assume that it happened on that second punch, the one when I stupidly offered my face to be hit.

"Must have been wearing a ring," I said pressing at the puckered flesh, watching Emily's face pale in her refection. "It'll be fine."

"It needs cleaning properly Naomi, and stitching at least," she said, wetting a paper hand towel and holding it up to my face.

"It needs a wipe and a plaster Ems," I told her gently, "it's barely a scratch. It'll be gone in a week."

"That eye looks sore as well," she continued as I dabbed away at the cut, noticing it genuinely wasn't very deep, a lucky escape really, a testament to my quick, but late, reactions.

"Yeah," I replied with a calming smile. "It stings a little, we might need to stop off on the way for a bag of frozen peas; I don't think you have any left in your freezer do you?"

I winked at her in the mirror and wiped away the blood that had formed neat lines down my cheek, before frowning and swearing loudly.

"What's the matter Nomi," Emily said her voice full of concern. "Have you hurt yourself or something?"

"Fucking blood has got onto my new shirt," I complained bitterly, "and it cost a fucking fortune as well."

"Oh for fucks sake," Emily replied, finally breaking into a smile to match my own. "I thought you'd fucking hurt yourself, don't do that to me you!"

"Take a lot more than a couple of light punches to hurt me Ems," I said wetting another folded paper towel and holding it up to my cheek. "Now come on, lets get back out there before they think we're in here shagging or something."

"I really wish I could kiss you right now," Emily said reaching up to take the towel from my hand and dab my face gently.

"I don't think that would be a good idea love," I said taking hold of her hand. "Not given where we are."

I glanced meaningfully at the dirty bathroom and finally my Emily laughed.

o+o+o

The early hours of the morning was taken up with Police statements and endless questioning at the West End Police station on London's famous Saville Row, the tailoring Golden Mile. Unlike my last experience with the Met this one was almost a pleasure. This time at least I wasn't being accused of committing a crime myself, I was the innocent victim of an unfortunate incident, and every eye witness that the club could provide proved it, including the CCTV footage that we'd watched in Powell's tiny office while we were waiting.

The police officers that arrived took the allegation I was making very seriously, evidence being taken, the champagne Emily had guarded being bottled and the glass bagged. I wasn't sure what would come of it all, but it was all being done by the numbers, and Shane was led away in handcuffs.

In fact the only thing that marred the event from my point of view was that I was put in handcuffs too, the allegation of common assault requiring me to be cautioned as well. Personally I wasn't worried, I knew the law and I knew I'd acted well within it; I also knew they were doing the right thing procedurally, covering their backsides, and showing no bias.

Emily though was frantic as I was led away and was promising me family lawyers and everything else I might need in order to get me out. I simply smiled and asked her to call JJ, explaining that the company lawyer that had served me well after the M4 shooting would be all that I needed.

It was just after four in the morning before I was released, with an apology for their actions and a reassurance that the evidence proved I was totally innocent. I stepped out of the interview room and was escorted down a corridor to a waiting area, were I was immediately wrapped in a big, warm, Fitch hug.

"They let you out I see," Effy's tired voice drawled from one of the plastic seats.

"Had to really, I'm innocent," I replied. "Where's Emily?"

"Giving her statement," Katie said releasing me. "She's not been gone long. Look, I wanted to say thank you Naomi; that could have been really nasty tonight. I think I was more than a little bit stupid, I should have known better."

"Why, because someone bought you a drink?" Effy asked shaking her head, "Perhaps it was silly, but he didn't look like a rapist did he?"

"No, but…"

"Chalk it up to experience Katie," I said seriously. "Next time you're in a club only accept drinks from people you trust, and make sure you keep an eye on your own drink as well; trust me, it's the only way to play it safe."

"You sound like you know what you're talking about Naomi," Emily's tired and croaky voice said from behind me. I spun around to see her stood with a male detective, staring at me with tired eyes, "you ok?"

"I'm fine Miss Fitch," I said eying the detective suspiciously, "yourself?"

"Tired actually, I think I'd like to go home now. This detective is going to drive us back to our car. Katie, do you and Effy need a lift anywhere?"

"Tim's going to drive us in my car Ems," Katie said. "He went to get it while we were being questioned. Effy's going to stay at mine tonight rather than travel all the way to hers. I've got space, even with Tim there, and Gareth is still away so it makes sense."

Part of me thought that wasn't all there was to it, that it wasn't just a question of convenience. Katie Fitch-Brace had been given a shock tonight, her 'rich girl's invulnerability shield' had been dented and she'd been reminded about just how dangerous the world could be; and like her sister before her, she was seeking out a friend, someone to be near her and reassure her, and help her through the night. I locked eyes with Effy as the twins hugged their goodbyes and in that shared moment I knew she understood too.

The twins hugged their goodbyes outside the station before we went our separate ways. It was my second trip in a patrol car of the morning but at least this time it was slightly more comfortable. The streets were quiet as we drove back to the car park we had left so long ago and it wasn't long before I was slotting our ticket into the bright yellow machine and paying the exorbitant fee.

"That was a rip off," I told Emily as she retrieved her credit card from the machine.

"Yeah, but it was worth it," she replied taking the printed ticket and linking her arm with mine. "It was a good night until that idiot spoilt it."

"Yeah, but he's going away for it, hopefully for a long time. I hope pretty boy is very popular in prison," I added evilly.

"Well I meant Katie actually babe," Emily said yawning, "but yes, he pretty much fucked it up too. How's your face?"

"Bit uglier that it was," I joked as she tugged my arm reproachfully, "and a bit more painful than I'd like; but it's ok, it's been worse."

"I wish you'd taken something for it baby, I don't like you in pain."

"Or in handcuffs it seems," I said changing the subject. "You could have been arrested earlier Emily, that screaming match was a bit silly."

"They should never have arrested you Naomi, that wasn't right."

"They did what they needed to do Ems, it doesn't matter; just be careful if it happens again ok?"

"Fuck I hope that doesn't happen again, it was horrible babe, it was worse than when you were fighting Pieter the day we met."

"Not from my point of view hun," I said with feeling, "that fight hurt me a lot, lot, more."

o+o+o

"Nomi?" Emily said as we drove back to her flat, taking it easy to avoid further police attention. "Why were you so angry at that guy tonight?"

"He had just tried to drug your sister love," I said, "I take that kind of personally."

"It was more than that baby, and all that stuff to Katie about watching her drinks. It seemed very personal; do you want to talk about it?"

"Nothing to talk about really love," I said pulling into Emily's parking bay. "I had a bit of a scare once, that's all. It was a long time ago in Cyprus, and luckily for me Whitey spotted something was wrong with me and made sure I was ok. People like that are scum babe, and it felt really good to catch him before he did someone harm, your sister or not."

"I think Katie might be a convert to your abilities now baby," Emily said as I escorted her out of the car and into the lobby. "She was complimenting you to Effy on our way to the station."

"Makes a nice change, long may it last," I said as the doors to the lift closed and I was wrapped in a hug once more.

"Yeah, I don't care if it doesn't though baby, I'm not letting her come between us, you're far too handy to lose, as you proved tonight."

"Shame our date was ruined though Ems," I said, "along with my shirt."

"Not ruined baby," Emily said yawning loudly once more as the doors opened and I fumbled in my bag for the keys to the flat. "Let's just say it was interrupted."

She wrapped her arms around my waist and snuggled into my back as I closed, locked and bolted the door. "Take me to bed lover, I'm tired and stressed and worried about you."

"Don't worry about me hun, I'm fine, nothing a good nights sleep won't fix."

"Good _mornings_ sleep love," she corrected pointing at the clock on the wall, its hands now indicating it was just before five.

"Ok then," I said with a grin, kissing her nose as she looked up at me, "it's nothing a good _mornings_ sleep won't fix."

"Better," she said, kissing me softly on the lips. "so, are you just going to stand here like an idiot, or are you going to take me to bed."

"Your bed or mine?" I asked shocking her by bending down and picking her up, her heels hitting the floor as she kicked them free.

"Nomi there _is_ no your bed or mine," she said as I turned and waked down the hallway. "Take me to _our_ bed baby, and don't leave me alone in it again."

.

.

.

**Authors Note:** Couple of things from me here.

Firstly Rophy isn't a reference to Rin and Sophy, but then I'm sure you knew that (-;

Secondly, listen to Sarge boys and girls, especially all you youngsters. Unfortunately people like Shane are actually out there and GHB, GBL and Rohyphol and drugs like them are being used in exactly that way )-:

Let's have fun and stay safe ok?

See you all next week…hopefully!


	55. There's A First Time for Everything

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness, a heavy case of writers block, (every chapter is a struggle), and an ex I could still more than happily put in the Basement with Naomi, even now!

I still have nothing to do with Skins, (but then do we care about Skins any more? We have our _own_ Skins…OccupySkins! Bring your tents, we will take Skins back for the people!).

**Authors Note: **Hello everyone…here's chapter 55, sorry it's late, I'm afraid surgery last week and a real problem with the ending delayed me more than I expected. Hope it's ok…as usual enjoy…Hawke, I'm sorry ok…call it a chapter and a half for the delay.

**Chapter 55 – There's A First Time for Everything.**

It's amazing how different your life can become with the smallest and simplest change.

The rest of the weekend had been a bit of a bust, by the time Emily and I woke up on Sunday the morning was pretty much gone. Realising that there was no point in making any significant plans for the day, we got dressed, and headed out to the nearest shop to buy some food; the fridge and cupboards being bare.

"Fuck me I'm shattered," Emily said as we walked through St John's Wood, past the cricket ground and heading to the only store that we knew would be open.

"Ems, you've only just woken up," I joked, actually feeling much the same way myself after the early morning messing about.

What does that matter?" she asked seriously, "I'm still knackered."

I couldn't help laughing at her face, her look signifying that I must be mental to suggest such a thing and I was still teasing her about it as we turned into the amusingly named Circus Road and walked up to the shops.

"Nomi, how about I treat us to a pub lunch," Emily said suddenly, gesturing at the bar on the corner opposite.

"What about the shopping," I said pointing at the Tesco Express with its customers bustling in and out.

"We can get that on the way home, then you can cook me that fancy dinner you've been promising; but first we can have a bite to eat cooked by someone else, we've only had cereal today and I'm starving."

I mulled it over; it was only just gone two, and the opening hours on the shop door said we had a couple of hours before it closed.

"You're swaying baby," Emily said with a grin, "I can tell…come on, it'll be nice."

"Ok," I said sighing dramatically, "but we can't be too long because the shop shuts at four ; there's no time for a heavy drinking session Miss Fitch…and you bought dinner last night so it must be my turn to pay."

"A quick bite," she promised crossing her heart, "and no booze, I'm not in the mood after last night."

She was true to her word as well, not a drop of alcohol passed her lips until long after we got home.

The 'Duke of York' pub was noisy and full of people as we forced our way to the bar, the atmosphere actually quite pleasant. I ordered a couple of soft drinks, getting a disparaging look from an old guy stood next to us at my bruised eye and my cut cheek, both of which had turned a wonderful shade of yellow overnight. Ignoring his stare I grabbed a couple of menus from a holder and turned back to Emily.

"We need to find a seat Em," I said as she sucked half her orange juice up through the obligatory straw. "We need a table number to order food."

Ems nodded and looked around, gesturing at a small rickety looking table at the back of the bar. Before it could get nicked by anyone else she'd made a beeline for it, leaving me trailing, as usual, in her wake. I took a seat and made a choice from the light menu, tossing the laminated card onto the table. While Emily studied her menu intently I began looking around me at the sepia and grey photo's of the local landscape from years gone by, the pub a common theme in all of them.

It was an interesting thing to see, the pub as a historic landmark. There are so many buildings that are revered for their impact on a community, libraries, museums, theatres, civic buildings and shops; but the humble local pub never seems to get a mention. I'd been in many pubs in my time, with friends, with comrades, with family and with lovers. Pubs are a place where we go, not just to drink, but to meet and talk and reacquaint yourself with friends and neighbours, the very nature of community life. They had been the central factor in so much of our society over the years and they were slowly dying, no longer the place to go to meet up; mobile phones and the internet removing that, television and home drinking being the new entertainment of the masses.

It was nice to be here, I thought as I stared at the pictures, men and women, workers and soldiers from the barracks that gave the name to the nearby streets; all captured in that moment of communion, that shared experience that was the pub. Being sat here gave me a sense of connection to the past, and that was a good thing; the past was something that had been drummed into me, it was something I felt was important

"What you thinking about Nomi?" Emil said tapping me on the head with her menu.

"History actually," I told her, dragging my eyes away from a picture of a crowd of flat capped men holding up dark pints outside the front door.

"What about it?" she asked looking vaguely interested; which was more than my ex used to do, rolling her eyes and groaning whenever I'd broached the subject.

"Nothing really, it was a big thing in the army and I guess I've been interested in it ever since. I was looking at these pictures and thinking about how some things never change. Boring stuff really," I said trying to change the subject and distract her from my geeky side, "have you chosen what you want to eat?"

"I wondered if you wanted to share that Dukes box platter type thing with me," Ems replied looking at me strangely. "I don't want to eat so much that I'll have no room for the wonderful meal you're going to cook for me tonight."

"I wouldn't get your hopes up that much Ems," I said standing and preparing to go and place our order. "I said I can cook, I never said that I'm a _good_ cook."

"No, but you do keep saying that you're better than me," she said with a grin.

"That's not really difficult is it love," I teased, "I had to teach you how to make a decent pot of tea for crying out loud."

"Go and order lunch Naomi," she said pouting at me and pointing at the bar, "before I get really cross with you."

I walked off with a smile; I knew she was kidding.

o+o+o

"How is history a big thing in the army babe?" she asked as I sat down, taking my hand across the table. "I always thought it was ultra-modern, you know constantly evolving and all 'be the best'; I wouldn't have thought there'd be much importance placed on the past."

"The past is a _huge_ thing in the army Ems," I told her, taking a sip of my diet coke and licking my dry lips. "Nearly everything you do is based on history; your unit, your uniform, your rank, everything really. When I was in basic training I used to get questioned on the origins of the Military Police, and gods help you if you didn't know an answer."

"How so," she asked leaning forward, pretending to be interested in what I was saying. I leaned forward a little so she could hear me and began regaling her of how it worked in basic training, how you were taught a lot more than just how to run and how to shoot. I told her about drill squares and the endless marching and shouting and then the rapid fire questions, the drill sergeant running the lines of recruits barking out questions about the history of the regiment to random recruits, and the punishments that ensued if you got things wrong.

As she sat and listened, I told her all the things I'd learned all those years ago; how we had a history that went back to 1281, how the regiment as it stands now was effectively formed in 1813. I told her about Henry II, and the Duke of York. I told her about the creation of the Provost Marshall Sir Henry Guldeford in 1511, about gaining the Royal prefix after the Second World War and about a million other things as well.

Our food came and went and still Emily listened to me talking away, about the unit, the regiment, and my time in it. In fact I was still flapping my jaw as we walked around the supermarket; grabbing what I needed to cook a proper Sunday roast, the way my mum used to cook, as I talked.

It was only as we walked back towards the flat that I realised I'd been yapping for well over an hour and I stopped abruptly, both talking and walking, halfway through a pretty boring story about my first ever military law exam.

"What's up baby?" Emily asked, stopping herself and turning to look at me. I must have looked like a prize pillock standing there, jaw on the floor and shopping bags in hand.

"You've let me talk for ages," I said still a little in shock, "you must be bored shitless."

"Not really," my Emily said with a smile that shone brighter than the summer sun. "It's been really interesting actually."

"Fuck off," I replied disbelievingly.

"No, honestly it is," Emily said with a tilt of the head that in and of itself questioned my sanity, "it's been really interesting to hear you talk about it."

I continued to stare at her, my face set in its best disbelieving pose as she grinned at me and shook her head.

"You really are a twat aren't you? Why can't you believe that you're actually quite interesting when you talk about things like that?"

"er… perhaps because I'm not interesting at all," I said walking towards her and taking her hand, pulling her along behind me. "Especially when I'm talking about things like that."

"Rubbish," she said as she quick-stepped up next to me, matching my pace, despite her smaller stature; "I think it's great when you talk about things, you don't do it enough."

"How do you mean?" I said as she let go of my fingers and linked her arm with mine, squeezing gently.

"You never really talk about yourself you know," she replied as we walked towards the flat she now insisted was ours. "I mean you talk, but you never really open up that much; not like that, not without some kind of major prompt. I realised today babe, I don't really know that much about you…I mean I know a lot of the bad stuff, but I don't really know the passion you have for things like history, or your old regiment, or anything like that. We've never really talked much about the good things in your life, or the normal mundane things either."

"We must have," I said, racking my brain to think of anything we'd talked about that wasn't bad and finding nothing. "Have I really done nothing but talked about bad things? You must be sick of hearing about them."

"Not at all," she said graciously, "I know a lot about you love, but I've not really seen this side of you, the engaged, passionate one; not unless you're telling me off about putting us at risk that is. It's been fun just listening to you, really interesting actually."

"Fuck off," I said again; still thinking she was taking the piss.

"Nomi love," Emily said rounding on me in the middle of the street, "you are an interesting, fascinating person and I _love_ listening to you talk about things that have meaning for you; good, bad or indifferent. Do you even _know_ how electrifying you were this afternoon? That entire time in the pub, it was absolutely fascinating; no matter what you might think, and I really enjoyed listening to you tell me it all, it was lovely to learn a bit more about what you love."

"I thought I was boring you," I said continuing the walk home, "I still can't think why you would have been interested in it."

"Because it's part of your life my love," she replied linking our arms again, "and that makes it interesting, especially when you talk with such passion about it."

I fell into silence as we walked past the imposing façade of the cricket ground and back towards the flat, enjoying the closeness but avoiding the subject again. I was actually quite pleased at her words; no one had ever listened to me talk about things like that and been genuinely interested, no one had ever really listened to me at all.

I didn't need to talk about things like that with Whitey; we shared the same passion in that sense, the same pride in who we were and what we stood for. Amy hadn't really been interested, in any of it; she listened sure, when the mood took her, but I always knew it was something she endured rather than enjoyed.

One more thing to love my Emily for; one more thing to make me feel good about being with her.

I was bustling about in the tiny kitchen, preparing the chicken I'd bought; carefully spooning my garlic butter under the skin of the breast and seasoning it liberally. I was just tucking it into the oven when I heard Emily's mobile going off in her bag, the familiar tune being muffled by the heavy leather of her designer bag.

I frowned as it continued to ring, washing my hands in the stainless steel sink; as I walked out into the small hallway it stopped, sods law in full effect.

"Ems, your phone's just rung," I called, digging around in her bag and pulling out her Blackberry; I didn't get a reply.

I poked my head around the door of the living room, the sounds of music coming from the television. I was about to call out to her, but stopped, smiling fondly, as I realised she was fast asleep on the sofa; legs tucked up, arms folded, hair draped over the arm. For someone that had slept in, not drunk a jot of alcohol, and done more or less fuck all all day; she was doing a very good impression of a corpse.

I looked down at the phone, flicking the buttons until I got the missed calls list; feeling a little bit guilty as I did so, but wanting to see if it was worth waking her. As the caller list appeared on screen I saw a single letter and put the phone in my pocket, switching off the television before I left the room. As I went back to the kitchen to prepare the rest of dinner the phone started ringing again.

"Fucks sake Emily," Katie's voice came out of the tiny speaker as clearly as if she was in the room with me; "have you been shagging your bodyguard _again_? Why didn't you answer the first time?"

"Because she's asleep Mrs Fitch-Brace," I said stiffly; answering her question carefully.

"Naomi, is that you?" Katie replied her voice faltering. "Why are _you_ answering Emily's phone?"

"Because she's _asleep _Mrs Fitch-Brace," I repeated, cradling the phone as I started on dessert. "She's curled up on the sofa and I don't plan on waking her to answer her phone. Can I get her to call you back?"

"Well," she said an unusual sound of trepidation in her voice, "it was you I wanted to speak to actually. I wanted to say thank you again, now that I'm sober that is; for last night you know?"

"You're welcome Katie," I replied softening my tone, "its all part of the service."

"Not when we gate crashed your date it isn't, that was rude of us; and then I got a bit too drunk, which was silly, and then if it wasn't for you…"

"We had this discussion last night Katie, I told you it's fine."

"Well I wanted to say thank you and have you know that I'm not just saying it because I'm drunk; I meant what I said last night, and I also meant it when I said that we can bury the hatchet. I'm sorry for being a bitch to you and Emily."

"That's fine Katie, I understand," I said, placing the chocolate I'd bought over a pan of boiling water to melt it, "you did what you thought was right and that's something I can relate to, all we both want is the best for Emily."

"Yeah well, I know when I've been a bitch and I know when it's time to give it a rest; you've got my word I won't play around anymore. Thanks again Naomi, look after my sister ok?"

"Always," I replied as the phone went abruptly dead; "always."

o+o+o

"Your sister rang before," I said as I watched Emily tear apart the roast that had smelled so good when I took it out of the oven; "when you were asleep."

"Oh yeah?" she replied, chewing and swallowing her mouthful of food hastily, "what the fuck did she want?"

"She wanted me actually, wanted to say thank you again…while she was sober; promised to leave us alone again."

"About fucking time," she said angrily; waving her fork around dangerously. "She needs to learn to butt the fuck out of my life."

"She was nice last night hun," I told her as I pushed my plate away, my stomach full. "I even got a hug off her when they let me go."

"You were hugging my _sister_," she said with a smile on her lips, even though her fork was pointing at me aggressively.

"She was hugging me," I corrected her, "not the other way around."

"Well as long as that's all it was," she said putting her fork to better use, stabbing her vegetables and shovelling them down. "This is fucking delicious by the way."

I smiled as she changed the subject, accepting the compliment with good grace. "Wait until dessert; I'll have you screaming in your seat with that."

"Really," she said smirking, raising an eyebrow at me cheekily. "I can't wait, does it include whipped cream."

"It doesn't," I said pouting, "but I do have proper cream for it."

"Does dessert involve you being naked?"

"Not this time babe, perhaps next time, if you're lucky."

"I'm very lucky love," she told me with a knowing smile, "very lucky indeed."

o+o+o

By the time Friday came along, I was positive that it was me that was the lucky one!

Despite another heavy work week, both Emily and I agreed it had been a good one. Not only because there had been a drop off in the threats that had been arriving with monotonous regularity; but as promised, there had been a drop off in Katie's sniping too.

That's not to say there weren't a _few_ comments along the way, this was Katie Fitch-Brace after all; but the digs she got in whenever we met were mostly harmless, and to her credit were tempered with some genuinely nice comments along the way as well.

Like I say, it's amazing how different your life can become with the smallest and simplest change.

Rob Fitch, of course, was still leading my personal fan club; and once Katie told him what has happened in the club I was sure he would have given me anything…including his first born child. Luckily for him I was only really interested in his second born; and fuck knows what he would say if he knew what I was getting up to with her when his back was turned.

Not that our life was an endless orgy of constant shagging; certainly nowhere near as much as much as Katie seemed to think anyway. In fact the rest of our lazy Sunday was spent curled up on the sofa watching movies; and most of the week had been spent in the same manner, neither of us really bothered to do anything special. In fact apart from trips to the gym, the shops, and my couple of trips to Joanna's; we'd done sweet fuck all.

All in all then, a very good week, though any week without drama was a good one as far as I was concerned.

Friday afternoon, however, saw me driving along the M4 towards Bath, Jenna Fitch demanding that her daughter come home for a visit, and Emily reminding me that we still had plans to visit my lock up again to pick up some more of my stuff for the flat.

So, with Emily's last meeting done, and with Rob's blessing, we took the lift down to the underground car park and climbed into the shiny new BMW X5 that had been delivered only that morning.

"This is nice," Emily said, shrugging her shoulders and settling into the plush leather seat."

"It is isn't it?" I replied flicking on the integrated sat-nav and punching in the postcode for Larkhall House. "All the bells and whistles too, JJ and Cook said that I needed the upgrade, just in case I wanted to go cross country again. It's not as nice as your Landy, but she's a lovely machine."

I started the engine and listened as German engineering roared into life, a symphony of pistons and carefully controlled explosions as the two hundred and sixty five brake horsepower diesel engine turned over. As I ran my hands over the steering wheel I heard Emily snigger next to me, and I saw her grinning out of the corner of my eye.

"What?" I said as I backed out of our space, my hand over the back of her seat.

"You're such a boy sometimes you know that?" She said as I paused in the middle of the exit lane.

"Why, because I appreciate nice things?" I replied as she laughed at me. "Just look at this car, it's beautiful; she's like an automotive supermodel with a genius IQ. Gorgeous on the outside, and incredible on the inside as well."

"Oh Naomi," Emily said, tears running down her cheeks as she laughed and laughed; "come on, stop cheating on me with this car and let's get going; I'd like to see mum before it's dark."

I was distracted as we threaded out of London once more, the route pretty much familiar now. I was totally enjoying 'cheating' on Emily with my shiny new toy, playing with the buttons as we sat in traffic. It was a nicer car than the one I'd trashed on that eventful first day and I was under strict orders to keep it that way.

"_Don't break this one please Naomi, you're crippling my insurance rates,"_ Cook had said when I called him to say thank you for the upgraded car.

"_Keep the bad guys at bay then boss,"_ I'd replied with a laugh, _"it wasn't _my_ fault last time if you remember."_

"_I'll do my best,"_ he promised, _"take care of young Emily _and_ my car blondie; see you real soon."_

"_I'll do my best too, see you soon boss."_

As we drove past the offices and industrial sites on the outskirts of Reading, cruise control doing the work of my right foot, I found that had nothing to do but listen in as Emily talked to her mum on the phone.

"So James is going to be there this weekend, that'll be nice," I heard her say as we passed out of the industrial wasteland and headed out into the countryside proper; its abrupt appearance surprising me as usual.

"Sounds like it's going to be a good weekend mum, we're looking forward to it. Naomi and I will have to leave a bit early on Sunday remember, we're finally going to pick up some of her things from storage…"

She stopped speaking suddenly and looked across at me. I frowned at her as she listened to Jenna talking.

"That'll be great mum, thanks; look I'd better go before I lose my signal. I'll see you in a bit….yes mum I'll tell her. Mum says to drive carefully Naomi," she added rolling her eyes dramatically.

"Tell her to put the kettle on," I said, smiling as Emily relayed my message.

"She says she has staff to do that," Emily said after listening for a second, "but if you're nice to her she'll ask them you make you a pot of her special coffee."

"Special coffee?" I asked absently, concentrating on overtaking a lorry with Irish plates that was trying, in turn, to overtake a tanker; muttering to myself about the way they were blocking two of the three available lanes as I floored the accelerator.

"Special coffee yes," Emily responded as she plugged her phone into the cars auxiliary jack. "I think she meant she'd make it herself. I wouldn't drink it though, she makes coffee about as well as I make tea."

"That bad eh?" I joked pulling in front of the irritating trucks and flicking on the cruise control once more.

"Probably worse, at least I've had someone giving me lessons recently." She sighed dramatically and stretched out in her seat, "speaking of which, mum says she wants another shooting lesson this weekend."

"Shotgun or rifle," I said with a smile.

"I don't think she cares which really, as long as she gets to play with guns, I think you're going to be stuck with her all weekend."

There was a tone to her voice that made me glance over at her, a little warning bell that told me that we had a problem that needed sorting.

"Do you not want me to give her a lesson hun?" I said softly, "I can always fob her off if you'd prefer."

"No," she sighed, reaching across the cab and touching my forearm with her fingers. "It's fine, I just thought it might be nice to get out of the house tomorrow, go down to my summerhouse. I felt like doing some painting or something, and I wanted you to be with me, that's all."

"Have you got your muse back love?" I said as she turned on the stereo and fiddled with her Blackberry, the sounds of classical music filling the car.

"I think so, I'm not sure…I do have the desire to try though, and I haven't felt like that for a while."

"Well you should go for it then," I said encouragingly, "I can ask Richard or someone to swap duties for a while, and then I could pop along when I'm done."

"But…" she said, a slight whine of disappointment in her voice.

"But nothing babe, you're not interested in watching your mother shoot and I want to keep you safe; though the security on site will be more than enough for you to be secure. Go and paint, do something you want to do, you don't need to hang around with me all the time."

"But I like hanging around with you, I like being with you," she said, folding her arms and pouting.

"…and I like being with you too," I replied, hoping to avert a row. "I just want you to do something you enjoy, rather than something you don't; that's all."

"Perhaps," she said still sulking, "we'll see."

"Besides, it's good cover for us to be apart now and again…and it's not as if we have to sleep in separate rooms still; as long as we make sure that the doors are locked behind us."

"There is that," she said, the faintest hint of a smile appearing on her face. "You know tonight you'll be the first person to sleep with me at the house, in my bed that is; that's kind of exciting."

"How so?" I asked, slightly pleased that I would be the first person in one part of her life at least.

"Well I was wondering how quiet you could be, you know, make it two firsts in a row."

"Really?" I asked playing coy, "what makes you think I'd be in the mood after all this driving?"

"I've packed my red underwear," she replied ending that conversation right there; apart from a snigger as I flicked the cruise control button with a finger, increasing our speed, the giant straight six engine pulling us along at an increased rate.

"In a hurry to get there Nomi," Emily teased, "whatever happened to my cool as a cucumber CPO?"

"She's still here," I replied with an easy laugh, "she's just got a thing for red, in more ways than one."

"Well as long as she doesn't kill us driving too fast that's perfectly fine with me; but there's no real rush you know," she said teasingly, "after all we did leave very early."

"That's true," I said easing back on the cruise control with a smile, dropping us under the speed limit once again. We drove along in an amused silence for a few miles, Emily glancing at me, a knowingly cheeky grin on her face; a grin that I just had to wipe away in the only way I knew how.

"Speaking of underwear," I said casually, not taking my eyes from the road; "I packed that set I bought in the States, and that black dress you like, along with my heels…just in case there was going to be a formal dinner again. Do you think that was the right thing to do?"

"Drive faster Naomi," Emily said quickly, ignoring my question. "Drive much, much faster."

o+o+o

The rest of the journey to Fitch Manor was uneventful, no more teasing, no terrorist scares, not even the presence of a police car to interrupt a pleasant drive. As we pulled up to the newly installed automatic gates and identified ourselves via the intercom, I knew that I was in love with this car.

"Emily, Naomi," Jenna called from the front steps holding out her arms as we walked up towards her. "Welcome back, good journey?"

"Not bad," Emily said hugging her mother warmly, "but then I wasn't driving."

"And how are you Naomi?" she said turning to me. "Is my daughter treating you right, not causing you any trouble?"

"Only occasionally," I replied with a genuine smile at seeing her; "mostly it's been your other daughter that's been causing me problems."

"So I hear," she said pulling me into a hug as well, "looks like I owe you for saving my Katie as well as my Emily."

"Not really, it was nothing more than a lucky spot on my part."

"Well thank you anyway; "Jenna continued unfazed at my modesty, "hopefully it's taught the silly girl a lesson about watching her drinks, it's not like I haven't told her before to be careful."

"I think she's definitely learned that lesson now mum," Emily said as we walked into that huge tiled hallway. "I know last Saturday scared her more than a little; Dad and Gareth weren't too impressed either. I think Katie's wandering days are well and truly over."

"She should settle down and give me a couple of grandchildren," Jenna said ushering us both into the main room and sitting us down. "That would keep her out of mischief."

She eyed us both suddenly; an evil glint in her eye. I had a sudden feeling of trepidation at what was going to come, and seconds later my fears were proven right.

"Well perhaps I should be asking you two the same question….when am I getting grandchildren from you two?"

"Not any time soon mum," Emily replied with a laugh; "now didn't you promise us some special coffee?"

"I promised _Naomi_ some special coffee dear, and unless you'd both prefer something stronger I'll go and make some now, never let it be said that Jenna Fitch isn't a woman of her word."

"I'd love a glass of wine," Emily said with a grin, "if you're going to join me, I've been told it's rude to drink alone."

"Well it is a little early," Jenna said looking at her watch, "but you've twisted my arm dear…Naomi, what can I get you, some of my coffee or would you prefer something drinkable?"

"Nothing for me thank you Jenna," I replied, yawning. "I was actually considering going and putting my head down for an hour or so; I'm feeling a bit tired after that drive."

"You ok babe?" Ems asked suddenly looking concerned. "It's not like you to get tired after a journey like that, are you not feeling well?"

"I'm fine," I replied reassuringly, "it's just that I haven't been getting a lot of quality sleep recently; I think it's catching up with me."

"The nightmares back again Naomi?" Jenna asked, thankfully avoiding the obvious teasing comment.

"In part," I agreed nodding away, my head feeling thick. "They're not as bad as they were a week or so ago, but they're still there."

"Are your sessions with Joanna not helping?" she pressed, reminding me once again exactly were Emily got her tenaciousness from.

"They've been really useful, "I reassured her, not wanting her to think that her gift of therapy had been a waste of time, or that I was ungrateful for it. "I had a bit of a setback that's all, that coupled with a few other issues sort of put me back a bit."

"Ah…" she replied, looking once again at Emily. I didn't need to ask if she knew what had happened, I knew that their relationship was such that Emily would have been on the phone to her mother the moment I began pushing her away; and that she would have been the first person to know when we finally sorted our shit out.

"Anyway," I said quickly, "if you two don't mind I'll leave you to your catch up. I assume I'm in the same room as before?"

"You are Naomi dear, do you want one of us to come and wake you?"

"I've got my phone," I replied waving the iPhone at them, I'll set myself an alarm; don't worry about me, you two enjoy yourselves."

I left the two of them alone, Jenna cracking open a bottle of wine from the chiller cabinet in their hidden bar; our bags were still where I'd left them, and with a little bit of effort I carried them up to our rooms.

Katie's old room was almost empty when I walked in, dropping the bags by the door. All the dolls, the chintz, the girlie trappings from years gone by, were nowhere to be seen. In their place were a few tasteful prints, and very little else. With a shrug of my shoulders at the transformation I walked over to the French windows and drew shut the heavy curtains, shrouding the room in darkness, a darkness that made my head relax almost instantly.

I knew I needed a nap, it was a lovely evening, and I wanted to be able to enjoy it; and with the way my head was feeling that wasn't going to happen. I lay down on the cold mattress and, for the first time since I woke up, allowed myself to relax; and for the first time in a long time, I was asleep within seconds.

o+o+o

I was woken, not by the loud chirping of my alarm, but by the soft stroking of my hair, my eyes opening to see a smiling face.

"Hey you," Ems said as I yawned and stretched. "I wondered where you were, you'd been gone ages."

I blinked as I tried to get my head on straight and looked at my phone, its black screen jeering at me, chiding me for not setting up the alarm clock app I'd downloaded.

"How long have I been asleep?" I asked quickly, sitting up and almost causing Emily to fall off the bed.

"Not that long babe, just over an hour and three quarters. Mum thought I should come up and see if you were ok, we were a bit worried when you didn't reappear after an hour."

"Must have forgotten to set my alarm," I said, stating the bleeding obvious.

"You must have been more tired than you let on love, you sure you're not coming down with something?"

"I'm fine Ems," I said pulling on my shirt, "I don't really get ill, I'm far too healthy for that, I was just a bit tired that's all."

I looked at the time on my phone and suddenly had an idea, something that would help clear my head and make me feel a hell of a lot better.

"Ems, have I got time to take a swim?" I asked, pausing in my dressing.

"Time before what baby?"

"The dinner you told me I had to attend tonight," I said rooting in my bag for my swimsuit.

"Babe, that's not until eight tonight, you've got hours to play in the pool if you want to."

"Cool," I replied stripping off my clothes under Emily's watchful gaze and slipping on my racing suit. "Are you going to get changed and join me?"

"You wish," she said shuddering, "I'll come down and keep you company if you want, but I'm fucked if I'm going into that water, it'll still be freezing."

"You mean you'll come down for a perv," I corrected her, the way she was staring at me not escaping my notice.

"I can do that right here love, and such a good perv it is too, got to love a woman in tight rubber."

"It's not rubber Ems," I said quickly, "that makes it sound far too kinky."

"Well whatever it is, I still think its damn fine. I get to see that tattoo of yours, and it makes your arse look great as well."

"Well as long as it meets your approval," I said, pulling on a robe to her obvious disgust."

"Oh it does Nomi, it really, really does."

o+o+o

My dip in the Fitch's outdoor pool gave me exactly what I needed, what I knew I had needed for a number of days, a genuine chance to think. As I powered through length after length I felt the tension that I'd been carrying for weeks start to slip away; as I swam I had the time to think, to reshape my thoughts, to centre myself once more.

It didn't matter that Emily was sat on a lounger nearby, enjoying the evening sun. It didn't matter that her mother and brother had joined her; for a blissful hour I was totally alone, totally at peace.

Eventually though I had to get out of the water, and it was with a great deal of reluctance I lifted myself out and slaked off the water, pulling it from my hair with both hands under the appreciative gaze of two sets of Fitch eyes.

"Looking fine Naomi," James said as I ran my hands down my legs, getting off the worst of the water and picking up my robe from the chair I had left it on before diving in. "You sure I can't convince you to swap teams?"

"James," Jenna scolded as I wrapped the towelling around myself and winked at him.

"I'm pretty sure James; though if I _was_ ever tempted, I'd be sure to look you up."

"And you'll always be welcome cutie," he said before yelping loudly as Emily brutally cuffed him. "What the hell was that for Ems?"

Emily scowled at him as he rubbed his head carefully, wining dramatically as he did so.

"Don't talk to Naomi like that, you pervert; and don't think I didn't spot you ogling her when she got out of the pool."

"Like you weren't doing the same thing," James retorted defensively.

"That's my friend you were drooling over you nasty little shit…"

"…well I wasn't ogling per se," Jenna interrupted, heading off the sibling's fight before it could build up a head of steam; "but I must say Naomi, I'd kill for legs like yours."

"Spend some time in the pool Jenna," I replied rubbing at my body though the towelling. "It's the best form of exercise there is for toning up, especially your arms and legs. It's also pretty good for getting some personal time too. There's no-one to disturb you when you're swimming, it's not exactly easy to talk to someone in there."

"I might just try that," Jenna said musing, "I'll have to get on the laptop and do some shopping later on. My golf trainer, Colin, well he keeps telling me that my game would be better with a bit more strength in my body, I just really don't want to get into the whole lifting weights thing."

I was about to make a comment about Colin, but caught Emily's warning glance and I remembered that James and Katie didn't know about Jenna and Rob's arrangement; Emily's look reminding me that I should keep quiet about them. Jenna may think that James may have _suspected_ there was more to her and Colin, but then I was sure James suspected about Emily and me as well. O_fficially_ though, he didn't know about either of our relationships and that's how we wanted it to stay; I was one more Fitch family secret, another entanglement in the complicated web of confusion that was their family life.

"I'd heartily recommend it Jenna," I said resolving to stick to the safe subject that she offered. "You really won't regret it, it'll get you fit and toned and I bet that your golf game will improve dramatically as a result. Now, if you'll all excuse me I think I need to have a quick shower and to get changed. Is it smart dress or formal attire for dinner this evening, Emily didn't say?"

"Neither Naomi dear," Jenna said with a smile. "I'd planned on eating al fresco tonight; I've got a few people coming over and chef is going to run a barbeque for us all."

"All?" I said with a slight frown, running through the security implications of there being more people at Fitch Manor, and wondering if we could get staff from our partner agency to cover on short notice if we needed them. "Have you arranged a party? I wasn't aware of that, how many people are coming?"

"It's not a party Naomi there's no need to panic, we've got a couple more guests arriving soon that's all; no need for any extra security tonight I assure you. Richard says we have more than enough people here tonight with you here."

"Well if you're sure," I said dubiously, figuring that I'd hunt down whoever of my team was on duty tonight and double check. "So what's the dress code for a Fitch barbeque?"

"Smart casual Naomi dear, nothing too special," Jenna said with a wave of her hand. "I'm going for relaxed garden party as a theme tonight; it's just going to be friends this evening, and Robert's not going to be here to make things all formal so I'm going to do it my way."

"Right then," I replied tying the belt of my robe once again, "I'll be ready for eight, Emily if you need anything I'll be having a shower."

"Would you like your back scrubbed Naomi, I'll volunteer for the job right now if you do."

"_James!_" both Jenna and Emily shouted as James winked at me after delivering his cheesy line.

"Thanks James, but you're still not my type," I said laughing and ruffling his hair as I went past, heading for the safety of the house as quickly as I could. I got the feeling that James was about to get the bollocking of his life, and as funny as I found his dogged, and not very serious, attempts to 'pull' me, I wasn't sure Emily was going to let him off his comment any time soon.

o+o+o

I waked back into my bedroom after a long hot shower feeling like a different person to the one that arrived, once again wondering at how it was the small and simple things that made a difference. I'd needed that swim and I'd needed that shower and, I realised almost instantly, I needed that smile from the pretty girl in the sculpted sun dress sitting on my bed.

"Hey you," she said standing and giving me a twirl, "like it?"

"Looks good," I said as she sat down again, "please don't tell me you expect me to wear something like that."

"As much as I'd like to see that baby, "she said grinning, "no I don't. Wear what you're comfortable with, though I know mum will frown on jeans and a t-shirt."

"Can I wear a hoodie?" I teased watching with glee as she scowled at me. "Ok I guess not…smart trousers and a shirt?"

"Probably the best plan," she said nodding and standing. "Better hurry though, mum wants you to meet our guests."

"Oh fuck, who's here…anyone important."

"You could say that baby, but I wouldn't worry; I'm sure you'll handle them with your usual skill."

There wasn't much I could add to that, so I concentrated on quickly drying myself and then grabbed my smart clothes from my travelling case; pulling on underwear and clothes as fast as I could. I heard Emily banging around in her room and poked my head around the door to see her rooting around under her bed.

"Ems, can I borrow your straighteners," I asked as she dragged a box out from under the bed. "My hair is fucking soaked still and it'll take ages to dry otherwise."

"Course you can babe," she said standing, picking up the box and putting it on the sideboard; "you know you don't have to ask."

"Yeah, but one, it's polite and two, I have no idea where you put them," I said as she turned to look at me, the hem of her summer dress swishing attractively as she did so.

"Want me to do it for you?" Ems asked stepping up and running her hands though my wet hair, "I don't mind."

"That would be great," I said, knowing that she could do a hell of a lot better job that I could. She'd dried and styled my hair before and she was really good at it; or at least, she had more patience than I did.

"You're looking nice," Ems told me as she sat me down in a chair, running my brush through my hair as she waited for the straighteners to warm up. "That top really suits you."

"You think everything suits me," I said as I leaned into her rhythmic brushing.

"Not everything babe," she corrected, "some of that gym gear of yours is truly disgusting"

"Well that's not supposed to look good hun," I told her suppressing a smirk, "it's supposed to be practical."

"Well if I had my way we would burn the lot love, it's totally unattractive and I wish you wouldn't wear it around the flat so much."

"What should I wear then?" I replied as Ems pulled my hair out and ran the hot tongs down it, the slight hiss as the water evaporated barely audible over her breathing.

"You know what I'd like to see you in," she whispered, her mouth close to my ear, "absolutely nothing."

"That's not very practical," I laughed as she continued to work at my hair.

"No, but it would be good for me," she replied laughing too. "Now will you keep still before you make me burn your ears or something, lets get you ready so we can go and enjoy ourselves; or at least I can, while you're on duty Sergeant Campbell ma'am."

We chuckled and teased our way through saving my ass and getting me ready in time for eight; sorting out my hair and make up in record time, a job that always seemed to take me a lot longer than Emily. I put it down to her natural beauty, she just told me it was because I couldn't be arsed with it all; perhaps we were both right, but ten minutes later I was done and ready to escort Emily down to her party with time to spare. Saved by the straighteners; I'm sure I'd never have been ready without them, or her.

I got a bit of a shock as I walked out onto the patio area where I could hear music playing and Jenna talking away loudly. Not a second after I stepped out through the French windows I was pulled into a crushing hug.

"Naomikins, how the hell are you?" Cook said making me grunt as he squeezed the life out of me.

"Good boss, you?"

"Just tip top Naomi," he replied in his best English accent. "I managed to get us a nice new client last week, so life is good."

"Big client," I asked as he led me over to a table to sit and chat.

"Not massive, but big enough to pay the bills for a few more months; keep you in cars and Effy in baby bits you know?"

"Like she's in the slightest bit interested in baby bits," I scoffed, waving at Effy who was deep in conversation with Jenna.

"Don't you believe it mate," Cook said with a shake of the head, "She's a lot more into this whole baby thing than she is letting on."

"Really?" I asked eying Effy amusedly, finally catching her eye and winking.

"Oh surely blondie, she may be playing it cool, but she's got all the books and magazines at home."

"That's nice boss," I told him, smiling as Effy looked at me suspiciously. "Gives me something to get her back with when she's taking the piss out of me and Emily."

"How are you and Emily?" he asked, his drawl more noticeable as he lowered his voice. "You seem very coy this evening."

"We're not together boss," I said with a wink, "not publicly anyway, certainly not here."

"Ah gotcha blondie, too many eyes here I get it; but otherwise you two are ok yes?"

"We're fine boss," I told him sighing, "as no doubt you already know." I had every faith in the intelligence machine that was Effy Stonem keeping Cook well and truly informed of everything that was happening between Emily and I.

"Well..." he said confirming my thoughts.

"Remind me to have a word with your fiancée;" I told him frowning, "she's far too clever for her own good."

"That she is blondie," he said staring at her fondly, "that she certainly is."

o+o+o

The evening went well, good food and good company making for a relaxing party. I was a little confused by Jenna's choice of guests, basically the Family members, their CPO's and some of the off duty house team. When I raised this with the boss, Cook told me that Jenna had wanted to put together a 'thank you' meal for everyone; and that he had thought it would be a good idea. After half an hour I had to agree with him, the team, and the family bonding in a way that could only be positive. The food was as good as ever, despite it being cooked over charcoal by the family chef.

Interestingly the Fitch's chef this evening was not the fat greasy man that their conversations about "chef" had given me images of, but an attractive blonde; an attractive blonde who was not only friendly, but more than happy to share her knowledge. Once the troops had been fed, I'd spent a few minutes chatting with her about the meals I'd had at the house, and getting some advice for the next time I cooked Emily a meal.

"Good chat?" Effy asked as I returned to the little gathering by the outdoor fireplace, plonking myself down in a free spot on a sofa next to James Fitch.

"Very," I replied accepting a drink from Cook, "I got some pretty good ideas for some new meals that'll make a nice change from the endless diet of takeouts."

"You cook blondie?" Cook asked as he sat back, a large cigar in his hand, blessedly still unlit.

"A little bit," I replied, relaxing into the padding of the outdoor sofa.

"More than a little bit Naomi," Emily interrupted from the other side of the fireplace. "That chicken you cooked last Sunday was really good."

"Don't see you as the kitchen type Naomi," James said with a grin, "your big butch bodyguard reputation is suffering by the minute."

"Hang on, since when have..." I started to say, before I was interrupted.

"…James likes to cook too, don't you baby?" Effy said snuggling into her fiancée. "I think he's still pretty masculine, there's no need for Naomi to lose her butchness because she likes to spend time in the kitchen."

"Will you lot stop calling me that," I protested. "Jesus, on the way here Emily called me a bloke now you lot are calling me butch..."

"Naomi you were practically making love to your new car," Emily interrupted with a broad smile, "what else was I supposed to say?"

"…and you do like shooting things Naomi dear," Jenna joined in.

"So do you!" I retorted defensively. "When did this become pick on Naomi night?"

"When you sat down," Cook said wrapping his arm around Effy and pulling her tight, "we all decided you deserved it when you were off chatting up the blonde."

"Oh fuck you," I said laughing.

"Not a chance Naomi," Effy said with a smirk, "he's all mine; if you want a bloke get your own."

"I volunteer," James said, throwing himself across the sofa at me; wrapping his arms around me and kissing my cheek noisily as we playfully wrestled.

"James, if you don't remove yourself from me this instant," I told him dragging him into a loose headlock, "I will personally give you the operation that might make you more attractive to me."

"I'm sorry?" He said when I finally released him, much to the amusement of the watching crowd.

"I think Naomi's implying she'll turn you into a girl James," Cook said with a tilt of his head; "and I doubt she was planning to use an anaesthetic."

"You wouldn't do that to me Naomi," James said, "it would be a tragedy to the world…you'd ruin my voice and that would be unforgivable. My rendition of Diamonds Are Forever is legendary at Uni."

"That at least is true," Simon interrupted from where he was stood behind me, a pint of something dark in his hand. "He can clear a room in seconds when he gets started."

The Welshman shuddered dramatically to make his point, "Quite frankly Miss Campbell, Dame Shirley would be mortified to hear Mr Fitch in action."

"That bad?" I asked smirking at James' horrified face.

"Probably worse," Simon confirmed, "probably much worse."

o+o+o

It was long after midnight when the party finally broke up, everyone too drunk or too tired to continue. It was probably for the best if I was honest, James was threatening to fire up the stereo and 'treat' us all to a rendition of his 'Bond Anthology'.

"Time for bed," Jenna said, slurring her words, slightly the worse for drink. "I'll leave you youngsters to your partying."

"I think you might have the right idea mum," a tired looking, but totally sober Emily said yawning loudly, "breakfast at the usual time tomorrow?"

"Of course dear," Jenna said kissing James goodnight, "breakfast at nine in the dining room. I'll see you all there, good night all."

I glanced at Emily, then at her mother and back again, getting a knowing nod in return. As Jenna made her way unsteadily out of the door we said our goodnights to the others and went to follow her as she swayed her way towards the stairs.

"Let me give you a hand there Jenna," I said, taking her arm and steadying her as she took her first step, and nearly fell backwards.

"Thank you girls," she said grinning as Emily took her other arm. "I appear to be a little tipsy again, I'm afraid you're both a bad influence on me."

"We're both sober mum," Emily replied, "you can't blame us this time."

"I think it's Cook," I said as Jenna swayed dangerously as we navigated the turn of the stair. "He's a bad influence when it comes to you and booze Jenna."

"You might be right," she admitted, making us both laugh as she slurred her declaration. "You're both good girls to look after me like this…again."

"All part of the service mum," Emily said as she opened a door at the end of the hallway that I assumed was Jenna's room.

"Thank you Emily, I can take it from here," Jenna said with a smile; reaching out to stroke her daughters face affectionately. "No need to put your old mum to bed tonight."

"I didn't last time mum, it was Naomi remember?"

"That's right it was wasn't it? Well no need for that tonight, I may be a bit unsteady on the old legs, but I'm capable of putting myself to bed tonight…which is where you two should be as well, I believe I've booked your girlfriend for a shooting lesson tomorrow Emily and I'd like to have her awake for it."

"Discretely mum," Emily chided, "walls have ears remember?"

"Good point," Jenna asserted nodding wildly. She winked at me as she placed her finger onto her lips, "shhhhhh…"

"Goodnight Jenna," I said firmly, stepping back to neatly avoid the hug.

"Goodnight Naomi dear, sleep well."

"'Night Mum," Emily said hugging her and kissing her on the cheek. "I'll see you at breakfast."

"Goodnight love," Jenna said holding her tightly. She whispered something into Emily's ear, making her laugh before stepping into her room and closing the door. Emily winced as a loud thump rang out from inside, followed by a cry of _"I'm ok."_

"Perhaps we _should_ have put her to bed," I said looking concernedly at the door.

"She'll be fine Nomi," Emily replied holding out her hand, "don't fuss babe; the only Fitch you need to put to bed tonight, love, is me…coming?"

"Sounds like a plan," I said taking her hand and walking back down the hallway towards our rooms. "What was so funny by the way?"

"How do you mean?" she asked as we walked into my room, closing and locking the door behind us, leaning my suitcase up against it for good measure; all my security tricks coming into play.

"Your mum said something to you, it made you laugh…I wondered what she said, that's all."

"Perhaps it was a secret," she teased, wrapping her arms around me, snuggling into my chest.

"Oh, well that's fine then, "I replied, wrapping my arms around her tiny waist.

"You're not even a little bit curious?" Emily said leaning up to nip at my neck.

"Nope," I replied truthfully, running my hands up and down her spine. "I don't need to know your secrets hun."

"I don't have any secrets from you Nomi, you know that."

I leaned down to kiss her, twisting my hands in her hair gently, holding her in place so she couldn't escape me; not that she seemed to want to, her own hands gripping me tightly as she threw herself into the kiss.

"Mum gave me a piece of advice," she said when we broke apart, both licking our lips.

"Really," I said as she walked over to my bed and dragged back the duvet, tossing a pillow onto the floor.

"Yeah, she reminded me to muss up both of the beds this time," she explained with a grin, "just in case."

"Ah!" I replied laughing at the memory. "Good thought!"

It was more than a good thought though, that I knew for certain; Jenna's supposedly innocent comment about our little faux pas in America signalling a lot more to her daughter.

"Yeah, so now that's sorted…shall we?"

Emily stretched out an arm towards me, almost shyly, her hand trembling ever so slightly. I understood instinctively the nerves that had crept up on her, this was a big step in her life, the first time she'd had a partner, a lover in her bed; and not only that, but this time she'd had a parents blessing for it.

Confidently I took her hand, pulling it to my lips and kissing her knuckles; watching her smile as I did so. Within seconds she had thrown herself at me, lips meeting in an almost painful crush of mutual need. As her arms wrapped around my neck, I placed my hands firmly on her arse, lifting slightly. Emily needed no further encouragement, hauling on me as she lifted her legs, wrapping them around my waist as I lifted her up. Our lips and tongues still duelling, I carried her into the sanctity of her bedroom; pausing only to kick the door closed behind me, I pulled back the duvet and gently laid her on the cold, white sheets.

"Nomi?" Ems started to say as she pulled at my shirt, dragging it out of the trousers she'd already undone, her deft fingers now turning to the buttons of my shirt.

"Uh huh," I grunted as I slipped down the straps of her dress and kissed my way down her chest, my hands reaching around to unzip her, finally finding the tab of the slider and easing it down, pulling the sculpted front away, allowing me access to the treasures within.

"Nothing," she said breathlessly as I ran my tongue over her erect nipple, her hands now pulling at me insistently.

"No," I said, removing my mouth for a second, blowing gently on the saliva covered skin, watching with fascination as it quivered and puckered under the cold air. "You were going to say something love, finish your thought."

I slipped a hand under her dress as I enveloped her nipple once again, my fingers tracking up her thigh, her breath coming in bursts as I trailed it lazily higher and higher.

"No thoughts," she stammered finally as I released her, slipping her willing body out of the dress, pulling her underwear off as I did so. "You take them away every time you do that."

"Do what," I asked, shedding myself of my clothes, feeling her dark eyes burn into me as I stripped naked and lowered myself back down onto her warm body, her arms and legs wrapping around me as I did so.

"You _know_ what," she said as I pulled the duvet over us, covering us from the chill early morning air. "Every time you touch me like that, every time you kiss me; you just empty my mind…every, single, time."

Her voice paused, and then tailed off completely as I kissed my way from her neck to her nipple, from her nipple to her navel and beyond.

If it was true that I emptied her head of thoughts there was one thing I knew was left in there, one thing that she seemed to hold onto when everything else escaped her. As I made love to her for the first time in _her_ room, in her bed; as I brought her to orgasm with a tender touch and a tiring tongue, there was only one thing left in her mind.

As she screamed _my_ name into the pillow she had pulled urgently over her face, we finally christened her room, finally made it an adult place to be…finally made it hers.

"Fuck you're incredible," she said with a deep sigh as I kissed my way back up her body, rolling her onto her side so I could snuggle in behind her; "absolutely incredible."

"You think so?" I asked, kissing the nape of her neck tenderly.

"Sweetheart I _know_ so." I grinned as I heard the tiredness creeping into her voice, a sure sign of a satisfied Emily.

"Go to sleep Ems," I said kissing her once more and feeling her relax against me.

"Yes Sarge…love you Sarge."

"Love you too Em, sleep well."

I didn't get a reply, not a spoken one anyway; her soft breathing the only response I needed. I pulled the duvet over us again, tucking it around us and snuggling in once more.

"Love you," I muttered once more, kissing her shoulder and holding her tight; I closed my eyes and, hoping for a peaceful night, gave myself to sleep.

.

.

.

**Authors Note:** So, did you spot all the first times? Apart from the obvious one that is (-;

Anyway, there's one more thing to add to all of this. There's this amazing person who's had a really crappy time recently; but I know your thoughts through her sickness must have helped, because she went from scaring the crap out of us to sending me e-mails in what seemed like a matter of weeks.

Thank you all, and if you can spare a few positive thoughts for her as she recovers her way back to fitness I'd be endlessly grateful.

S, if you read this, get well babes, you rock!


	56. Best Laid Plans

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness, a heavy case of writers block, (every chapter is a struggle), and an ex I could still more than happily put in the Basement with Naomi, even now!

I still have nothing to do with Skins, but then do we care about Skins any more? We have our _own_ Skins…#OccupySkinsGen2 (thanks to the twitter folks for the correction).

**Authors Note: **Hello again…well I did think I was going to get CP completed by the end of this year, until Jammy pointed out that would mean it would have to be done in 8 chapters/weeks…yeah, that's not going to happen…looks like this story will be with us into 2012.

Right, time to get this behemoth rolling again, enough with the fillers (-;

**Chapter 56 – Best Laid Plans**

I woke on Saturday morning you a pair of lips working their way down my neck, and a pair of hands roaming over my body; Emily Fitch quite obviously up, about and feeling amorous.

All in all, a pretty good way to wake up; a very good way actually.

"Morning you," I said when my breathing returned to normal, my skin flushed and tingling.

"Morning lover, sleep well?"

"So so," I admitted, my restless night hardly the main thing on my mind right now.

"I slept really well," she gloated, "perhaps you need the same sleep therapy you gave me…I'm sure it can be arranged for tonight."

"Well, if it's anything like my alarm call this morning," I told her pulling her close; "I'm not going to complain at all."

She stared into my eyes, as my hand ran gently up her side. "I love you," she said finally, blinking slowly.

"Of course you do," I said reaching up to brush her bright red hair away from her face; "what's not to love?"

"Do you want a list?" she said smiling cheekily. "I'm sure I can come up with a couple of things if you like."

"I'm sure I can live without it," I said cupping her face and running my thumb across her cheek. "I've been told my faults many times before, and there's probably a long list of people who want to get in before you."

"Well they'll have to wait until I've finished telling you all the good things about you," she said firmly, "and that might take a while so all those people can fuck off."

"You're far too good for me Emily Fitch," I told her, kissing her hair as she snuggled into my shoulder, kissing the scar as she did so.

"Not at all, I think we deserve each other Nomi; I'm so glad I met you. Apart from the being shot at part, and all the fucking about, this has been the best time of my life."

"I quite enjoyed the being shot at part," I said, causing to sit up and look at me. "What? I did, it was exciting!"

Emily just shook her head at me and laughed. "I need a shower before breakfast," she said slipping from my arms and climbing out of bed. "Will you scrub my back for me?"

"I might, what's in it for me?" I teased, stretching out on the bed and eyeing her up and down, enjoying the view immensely.

"Come on in and find out," she said vanishing into the en-suite, the sound of running water following almost immediately after.

"Don't you think I should use my own bathroom babe?" I called out as I heard her humming to herself. "Don't want people to think we shared a bath now do we?"

"You can if you want," she replied her head appearing around the side of the door. "But we can always fake that, and my shower has jets."

"Jets you say?" I replied with a smirk, reluctantly climbing out of bed.

"Jets," she replied from the en-suite, "very powerful jets!"

"Sold to the woman with the aching limbs," I said following her into the bathroom and marvelling at the expensive looking cubicle that resided therein.

Emily stepped into the huge glass box and pressed a panel on the wall, filling the room with steam as the power shower kicked into life; its wall jets pummelling her body, sending rivulets of spray smashing into the glass. I looked at the shower, and her, with undisguised longing. "Coming in then?" Emily asked with a cheeky smile, gesturing at the door.

"You bet."

o+o+o

After another rather good breakfast at Fitch Manor, we went our separate ways. Jenna and I heading for the South field for her shooting lesson, James and Cook tagging along for good measure. To my surprise Effy volunteered to stay with Emily who was still insistent on heading to her summerhouse.

"Are we all going to meet up for lunch mum?" Ems asked just before we left the table, "something light and easy?"

"Jesus Emily, you've only just finished breakfast and you're thinking about lunch already. Why you're not huge I don't know."

"Shut up James," she chided. "Prick! Well mum, what do you think?"

"Well James and Effy did say they had plans this afternoon dear," Jenna said looking across at Cook. "Can you two stay for lunch, or do you need to head off?"

"What and miss food like this?" Cook said with a broad smile, "I'm sure we can spare an hour or so before we head back can't we babes?"

"If you like love," Effy said patting his stomach meaningfully. "I'm in no rush."

"Lunch it is then," Jenna said standing up. "I'll ask Andrew to have it served for one if that's ok with everyone?"

After a quick agreement we walked down to Jenna's shooting hut, the combat range that they'd arranged for me to train on no-where to be seen; James for one seemed a little put out with that.

"What happened to the shooting range mum?" he complained as we approached the hut; the field bare of the moving targets and the hay bales.

"Emily and I had only borrowed it James, we had to give it back I'm afraid. I have invested in some targets for the rifle though, you can play with that if you like; I'm sure Naomi or James won't mind teaching you."

"I think Cook would be better at doing that," I said quickly, "he managed to beat me at the competition and I had that fancy rifle Emily got me."

"Well I may have had just a tiny bit more practice than you my friend," Cook said with a smile. "It was pretty much my job for a few years."

"Cook was a sniper when he was in the Rangers," I explained to James' confused face. "That's why he'd be better to teach you, if you can get a look in that is; him and your mother must have shot over five hundred quids worth of ammunition when we were in the States."

"Surely not that much Naomi," Jenna said looking a little guilty.

"Probably not," I admitted glancing at Cook who just winked, "but at about five bucks a round minimum probably not that far off."

"Oh for heavens sake, I didn't realise they were that expensive;" she replied sounding a little distraught, "Naomi why didn't you tell me?"

"Didn't occur to me to mention it Jenna," I told her truthfully, "Emily bought a full case so they were there to be used, besides we all thought you were having fun."

"I was, but they're very expensive bullets."

"Rounds, "I corrected absently, "and probably no more expensive than those Purdey shells of yours," I added as we reached the hut to see the hunting rifle and her fancy shotgun laid out ready for us along with the protective gear and shell bag.

"Possibly not," she admitted pulling on her ear defenders with a broad grin. "Now, what do you say shall we blow a few hundred pounds of my husband's money smashing up flying saucers?"

"Why not," I said handing glasses and ear defenders to Cook and James; "after you 'Dead-Eye'."

The rest of the morning was lost in the sounds of gunfire and the unmistakable smell of spent rounds. I was pleased to hand over the training reigns to Cook for a while, his patience when trying to show James Fitch the intricacies of rifle shooting should have seen him canonised.

I spent the ten minutes or so while Cook did his thing, and Jenna did hers, swapping texts with Emily; or actually Effy as it turned out. I suspected that there was something going on when I sent her a picture of Cook bending over next to her brother as he tried to get him to hit the target, and got _'nice arse yum!'_ as a reply. Still, Effy sticking her oar in was an entertaining break from all the shooting, and some of the things she sent me were quite entertaining.

"Are we boring you blondie?" Cook said, dragging me away from the image of a paint smeared Emily that Effy had just sent me.

"Just chatting with your other half boss," I replied with a grin, "letting her know what you're up to. She was very impressed with this picture I sent her," I added opening the image and showing him the phone.

"Well, she does say my butt is my best feature," Cook said proudly. "How come you're chatting with Eff anyway Naomi?"

"I was checking up on Emily," I said, "but she's busy and your missus has got hold of her phone."

"Always on duty Naomi," Jenna tutted waving her finger at me, "you never let up do you?"

"I should hope not Mrs Fitch," Cook said formally, giving me a sense of déjà vu at his words.

"Oh come on," James Fitch interrupted, "can we please stop pretending that it's all work with those two?"

"James? What do you mean?" Jenna said; her face the picture of innocent surprise.

"I'm a bit daft sometimes mum, but I'm not stupid. Emily had her eye on Naomi here ever since I first saw them together, and every time I've seen them since; every look they share added to my suspicions. Yesterday, today…well that was just the icing on the cake."

He looked across at me with a triumphant look on his face, "Go on Naomi deny it, deny that you and my sister are seeing each other." I stared back at him thoughtfully, before sending a quick text, getting an almost immediate reply.

"Emily says 'tell him to fuck off' I'm afraid James," I told him with a wink, "she adds that it's 'none of his fucking business' and you should keep quiet or 'dad might find out about Brighton'."

I looked up from the phone to see him sitting there with his mouth open in shock. "So no, I won't deny it, but I will ask for your discretion James. Yes, Emily and I have been seeing each other. Yes, I am serious about her; and yes, we would prefer it if Mr Fitch didn't find out, either directly or indirectly," I added pointedly.

"Like I'd tell that twat anything," James snorted getting an angry response from his mother. "No mum it's true, he's been fucking about in my life since I was thirteen, I'll call him what I like."

With a frown he turned back to me and tilted his head, "Is that why I'm the last to know? Because you thought I'd tell dad?"

"Not at all, we haven't actually _told_ anyone," I said realising that he was actually hurt. "Emily and I made a promise to go slowly, and tell nobody…people just sort of found out, or guessed like you, it's been…unfortunate."

"People guessing?"

I nodded with a frown.

"So what's the issue with dad, apart from his blatant bigotry of anything that isn't what he calls normal?"

"I work for him," I said flatly, looking at Cook as I did so; covertly he winked and gave me a thumbs up, well at least one of us was confident about my handling of the situation.

"I hadn't thought about that," James said sitting back onto the ground and looking at his mother. "Fucker always seems to get in the way of Ems being happy; are you ok with this mum?"

"More than ok son," Jenna said smiling and looking at him fondly. "Youre right of course, Emily has been chasing Naomi practically since they met; it took them both a while to realise it and stop messing about but I'm more than convinced that they're good for each other."

"Cookie?"

"What?" Cook replied walking over and sitting down next to me.

"Are you ok with it? I mean, Naomi is supposed to be protecting Emily, not fu… Not falling for her."

Cook and I shared a glance, a glance that reminded me of a similar conversation here, in a back room at a posh party. He winked at me again and turned back to James.

"Well, given that I used to be the CPO for my little Elizabeth Jimmy boy, I'm not sure I'm the best person to answer that. But let me ask you this James," he said with his traditional cheeky grin now firmly affixed to his face; "which Naomi do you think will do a better job of looking after your sister? The Naomi that's madly in love with her, or the one that sees her as a means to a pay check?"

"I guess the one that's in love with her," James admitted after a pause.

"Exactly, hence me not having a problem with it my friend…now, shouldn't we be heading back ? I don't mean to be rude but I really do need to catch up with Effy and head off. Unfortunately I've got dinner with the future in-laws tonight…much like you Naomikins."

"You might be right James," Jenna said with a smile at his teasing, "thank you both for the lessons, I do so enjoy doing this, especially when I know how to do it right."

"Well you are looking at the 2009 and 2010 triple-challenge champion's ma'am; if we can't teach you the right way to do things, I don't know who could." Cook said, exaggerating his accent only slightly.

"Well I'm very glad of the expert guidance," Jenna laughed, "so thank you both. Shall we head back? Have a bit to eat before James and Elizabeth leave? I've worked up quite the appetite now."

I made the guns safe and stacked them on the table for collection as ordered; leaving the gun hut neat and tidy before we left, just the way I'd been trained to do. When I walked out I realised James Fitch was waiting for me.

"So at least I know for sure why I got a bollocking yesterday. I suppose Emily has your back scrubbing well and truly covered yes?"

"Just a bit James," I said wrapping my arm around his shoulders as we walked back to the house. "No offence, but I did say you were the wrong gender, though you are quite the temptation, you do look good in a dress after all."

"You're funny Naomi, pretty too, won't say I'm not jealous of my sister, but if you…"

"…hurt her you'll end me?" I interrupted. "Katie's already done the threatening thing James, I'm sorry to disappoint you but…"

"…but I've been beaten again by one of my sisters," he said with a grin, "fucking typical. Just treat her right Naomi, Emily's a wonderful person and I love her to bits."

"I'd never have guessed James," I said squeezing his shoulders tightly, "don't worry, I'll do the best by her I promise you that."

"You do that," he said squeezing me back, "you do that."

o+o+o

"So what do you have to show me?" I asked as Emily and I walked to her summerhouse after lunch. She'd been hinting at something she'd been working on from the moment she'd reappeared after dragging James away from us when we'd arrived a the house.

"Wait and see," she replied smiling and opening the door. She was looking happy today, happier than I'd seen her in ages in fact.

"What?" she said as I closed the door behind us, sealing the outside world away from us once more. I looked across at her quizzically. "The stupid grin on your face honey, what's that all about?"

I gestured at myself innocently as she skipped over and kissed me gently on the lips before skipping back across her little laminate dance floor; everywhere looking a lot cleaner than the last time I was in here.

"You seem happy," I told her walking over and sitting on one of the chairs, new and more comfortable chairs I noticed. "Do I take it that you've had a good morning?"

"I had a great morning love," she said flopping herself down on my knee and wrapping her arms around my neck. "But then we got out of the shower, got dressed and you left me to play soldiers again, so that was not quite so good."

"I meant in here," I said shoving her lightly causing her to hang on a bit tighter, not that she really needed to. "Effy sent me a picture of you covered in paint; I assume you got your inspiration back."

"I did," Emily said climbing off me and walking over to a covered easel, pulling the dust cover off it. "I did this, what do you think?"

I walked over, and stood next to her, looking at the picture on the frame.

"I wanted to paint you," she said as I took in the image, "but I couldn't think where to start, there were too many images in my head that I wanted to paint and they were conflicting; so I did this instead…"

"It's quite lovely," I said, because, quite simply, it was.

"It's not finished yet, there are a few more hours to go before I'll be happy with it, but it feels good to be creative again."

"Has she seen it?" I wondered; getting a shocked look from Emily at my suggestion.

"God no," she said gesturing that I should go and sit down again, "that's not how I do things…I couldn't possibly show her it, not even when it's finished."

"You should," I said firmly, "Cook would _love_ that portrait of Eff, and I'm sure she'd love it too."

"You think?" Ems said picking up a brush and rolling it through her fingers, looking a little embarrassed at my flattery.

"I know!" I replied, ending the conversation there. "You're a talented so and so aren't you?"

Emily smiled shyly as she ducked behind her easel and went back to working on her painting; it was a great picture, a really good likeness of the attractive brunette. I checked a date I had put into my calendar and grinned…perfect.

"Ems, you know it's Effy's birthday next month?" I pressed her. "You should give her that painting as a present."

"No, Naomi," she replied, her head appearing from around the canvas. "Stop it. I'm not good enough for that."

"Bullshit," I told her flatly, gesturing around the summerhouse. "Look at this place Ems; it's full of great pictures."

"Paintings," she corrected, hiding behind her canvas again.

"Full of great paintings then," I corrected myself smiling. "How much do you want for it then? If _you_ don't want to give it to her, I'll buy it off you and give it to her myself."

"It's not finished," she insisted, "and if you don't shut up I _won't_ finish it either; and I certainly will not be selling it, I don't sell my work, that's not what it's for."

I sniggered at the petulant little stamp of her foot, I knew she was kidding about not finishing it, knew as well she would really be pleased at receiving compliments for her work. I also understood her reluctance about showing or selling her work. Jenna had told me earlier about her fathers derision when Emily had expressed an interest in painting, his lack of support for her doing anything but working for the family firm. It was a shame that he was such a prick; his daughter had talent, a real talent in fact and it should have been celebrated not crushed. No wonder Emily didn't want anyone to see her work…well I made it my ambition to remind her how good she was at every opportunity.

"Nomi, are we still going to your lock up tomorrow?" Emily asked after about a half hours silence, my book keeping me good company. To Emily's horror I folded down the corner of the page, put my copy of Sheila Kohler's 'Cracks' into my lap and nodded.

"If that's ok with you Ems, I thought I'd grab a few more things like we said. How's the masterpiece coming along?"

"Nicely actually, what time do you want to leave tomorrow," she said changing the subject immediately. "Lunchtime?"

"Depends on what time you want to get home babe," I said, trying not to laugh at the streak of dark paint that stained her cheek. We can leave a bit later if you'd prefer to spend a bit more time with your family."

"Trust me Naomi, by lunchtime tomorrow I'll be more than happy to get away from James, can't believe he worked out that we were seeing each other."

"He said it was the bollocking you gave him by the pool that gave us away love," I said with a smile, "I guess you were a little too protective of my honour."

"Perhaps," she said vanishing again, "still at least we don't have to pretend while where here now."

"We still have to be careful baby," I reminded her, "there's still the staff here to think of, and I still don't trust that Andrew guy, he seems to be very interested in us whenever we're together."

"Well we don't have to be careful in private love," she said happily, "and I plan to make sure we have lots of quiet time this weekend. Speaking of which, do you fancy a nice walk before dinner?"

"Depends….where are you thinking of going?" I asked picking up my book once more as I heard the scraping of her brushes on the canvas.

"Around the grounds, nowhere special really, we'll still be safe so don't worry. I just thought it would be good to get out in the fresh air."

"Sounds good then, is your mum planning something special for dinner again do you think? I'm not sure I could stand getting all dressed up."

"No black underwear set?" she teased playfully, "I was totally going to slip into the red set you like for tonight's meal."

"Never said that babe," I replied quickly, "just don't fancy having to mess about too much, it was nice last night to be able to relax a bit you know? Be smart, but not all dressed up."

"Well if you promise to wear something sexy underneath, I'll put a good word in with mum," she said cheekily.

"Promise the same and I will," I replied, grinning from ear to ear like a twat. I loved this interplay we had; I'd not had it with anyone else I'd dated, it was nice, more than nice actually. It reminded me of all the good relationships I'd had with people in a way, with mum, with Whitey…with Chunks and Grouch even. It gave me confidence about what we had…it reminded me a lot of how Whitey and Gill used to joke around, endlessly taking the piss out of each other and constantly 'arguing'; and until his death they had been as solid as a rock too.

"Deal," Emily said, poking her head out from behind the canvas and winking. "That's this evening sorted lover, now leave me in peace to finish this painting or I'll never be able to give it to Eff."

Satisfied at her admission, I opened my book and dived back into the fucked up world it described.

o+o+o

"Done," Emily announced, dragging me away from my book once more. I looked up to see her washing her brushes in the summerhouses tiny sink. On the whole it had been a pretty pleasant afternoon for me, Emily painting away, me quietly reading. I hadn't sat and read like this for a long time, not since those boring off duty hours on tour in fact; lying back in my bunk and hiding from the war.

We'd only been interrupted a couple of times, a stony faced Andrew delivering a tray of coffee and biscuits mid-afternoon and appearing an hour later to take it away again; in my head he seemed disappointed that he hadn't caught us in a compromising position, but perhaps that was just my overly suspicious mind.

"May I see it?" I asked her, easing myself out of the chair that I was practically glued into.

"Sure," she said gesturing to the canvas as she washed her hands, "help yourself."

I have to admit to being slightly stunned when I saw the finished article, it was a fantastic picture; somehow Emily had managed to capture an Effy that was looking off into the distance, a slightly wistful look on her face, a hint of a smile on her lips. Her fabulous eyes were shining in the oils, the vivid blue Emily had used standing out dramatically against the dark black shadows of her make up. With that one faraway look she showed the enigmatic beauty of our friend perfectly. She was a modern day Mona Lisa, capturing your attention with nothing more than the glint in her eye and the turn of her head, and the hair that shone as it framed her face.

"Fuck, Ems, that's fantastic," I said finally as I felt her arms slip around my waist.

"I don't think I've got her mouth quite right," she said, pointing at the picture, "and the neckline doesn't look right, but I'm quite pleased with it. It's not a bad effort considering I've not picked up a brush for months."

"I think it's brilliant, it's more than brilliant…I can't believe you haven't let her see it, she'll love it hun," I virtually stammered, still amazed at my girls obvious talent. "You just _have_ to give it to her for her birthday or something, you can't hide it in here forever; it's far too good for that."

"You really think so?" Emily asked shyly, pressing her head into my back.

"I told you that _before_ you finished it Emily," I said, placing my arms on hers, "and I haven't changed my mind. I know it, Effy will love that picture, more than love it; I know I would."

"Painting babe, it's not a picture it's a painting," she corrected me again; her embarrassment obvious, as was her pride in her work.

"Whatever," I said turning around and smiling as I saw that the paint smear on her cheek was still there. "Come here you, let's get you cleaned up properly."

I led her over to the sink and dampened the end of a cloth, grinning at her as I removed the paint from her cheek, and dabbing at a blob of blue that found itself glued to the top of her ear. "There," I said finally, tossing the dirty cloth into the sink, "clean!"

"But Nomi, I thought you liked me when I was dirty," she said with a cheeky grin as she wrapped her arms around my waist once more.

"Clean or dirty Ems, doesn't really bother me, I like you however I find you."

"Only like me?" she asked pouting playfully.

"Depends if you mean personally of professionally," I said with a noncommittal shrug and a smirk, determined to have a bit of fun with her; "because sometimes I'm not totally sure about either."

"Bitch," she laughed recognising the game I was playing. "Sometimes Naomi Campbell I have to remind myself exactly why I fell in love with you, you know that?"

Emily released me with a playful shove and pulled the scrunchie out of her hair, shaking it out dramatically. "So, right now do you like me enough to go for a walk around the grounds with me? I think I need to get out in the sun, I've been cooped up in here for far too long today."

"I'm sure I would be remiss in my duties if I didn't," I said with a wink.

"Professional or personal duties," Emily replied with a grin, holding out her hand to me.

"Both probably," I answered, taking it and following her to the door, however as I went to open it her body got in the way, Emily stepping in front of me and blocking it off.

"Not so fast Sergeant Campbell, I want a kiss before we leave."

"Oh really, do you always get what you want then?" I asked, knowing that in this I could deny her nothing, but wanting to play the game a little bit more.

"Sometimes," she said, grabbing my shirt and pulling me close, hovering her lips right next to mine; "but when it comes to kisses with my favourite CPO, I think that should be improved to always."

"Oh you do, do you?" I teased, closing my eyes as our lips finally touched.

"Mmm Hmmm," she said murmuring into my mouth and the conversation ended there.

o+o+o

Sunday afternoon found us in Cheltenham, at a grubby little lock-up far from the centre of town. True to her word Emily had persuaded her mum to have a quiet meal, just the four of us out on the patio once more. True to his word as well, James Fitch didn't make a fuss about me and Emily; in fact his behaviour was more than I could wish for, polite, respectful and yet still totally the cheeky fucker that I had met those short months ago.

Especially after a drink or two.

"Nomi, what's this?" Emily asked as she furtled around in one of the boxes I'd opened and moved to one side. She held up a box, a box I'd forgotten I still had, a box I thought I'd thrown away long ago.

o+o+o

_Amy's Apartment – Christmas 2006_

"_Thank you Naomi, it is really lovely," Amy said as she opened the thin box that I had carefully wrapped and handed to her._

"_It was nothing," I said, shrugging. "I saw it in London and thought you'd like it."_

_She smiled at me knowingly and slipped the chain around her neck, it was anything but nothing in fact; it was a fucking expensive, one of a kind designer necklace and it had cost me a fucking fortune, more than I'd earned on tour in bonuses. Still after all of the shit I'd put her through during my last duty tour I guess she deserved it, plus I was all about the quiet life and this stupid necklace guaranteed me a quiet life while I was here. It was by one of her favourite designers and she'd been less than subtly hinting at her work for the last year or so._

"_I love it," she replied, admiring herself proudly in the mirror over the fireplace. Another successful present then; another peaceful Christmas._

"_I got you a special gift," she said with a smile, "as a surprise." She dug behind the extravagant Christmas tree and drew out a long and narrow box, handing it to me with a smirk. "I had it made especially for you."_

"_Thanks," I said as she kissed my cheek, not at all sure why she was smirking at me. I carefully removed the paper and pulled out a dolls box, a custom made dolls box with a title that made my heart sink._

"_That's all you baby," Amy said with a wicked little laugh. "I had Giles design it for you, and Sara made the outfit."_

_I stared at the box, a fake smile planted on my face, "they did a good job," I said neutrally, hating the fucking thing almost instantly._

"_They did, didn't they?" Amy replied proudly. There wasn't anything else I could add without offending her, so I kept my mouth firmly shut; it was Christmas, and one thing my mum had impressed on me was that you didn't fight at Christmas._

_No matter what people did to you, no matter how much it hurt._

o+o+o

"It's nothing love," I told her, making to grab the offending article from her grasp.

"Action Barbie," she said gleefully, holding the box out of my reach. "How funny is that? Is this supposed to be you? It is, isn't it?"

"Please Emily," I said holding out my hand, "let me get rid of that, I thought I already had; I didn't realise it was still in here."

"Really?" she asked a smile on her lips, "are you sure you're not secretly fond of it? It does look a little like you."

"I fucking hate it," I said angrily; my hand extended, waiting for her to hand it over. "It wasn't fucking funny when Amy gave it to me, and it's not funny now. Please, just give it to me Emily, stop pissing about."

"I'm sorry honey," Emily said soberly, realising I was serious and walking over to me, the box held out in front of her. "I thought you were playing, I didn't realise…"

"It's ok Ems," I said taking a breath, "I'm sorry too. I shouldn't have snapped at you like that, it's just…it's just something that still annoys me, I can't believe the fucking thing is still here, where did you find it?"

"Over in that box babe, the one with those clothes in," she said softly as she handed me the box, "is that why you got annoyed about Cook calling you Barb that night when we first went out, because of this Action Barbie thing? Is that why Amy kept calling you Barb, was that where her nickname for you came from?"

"You have too good a memory Emily Fitch," I told her, looking at the blonde haired doll dressed in woodland camouflage and holding Kalashnikov. "Far too good a memory in fact."

"Actually I have an awful memory babe, unless it's about something or someone I'm interested in…like you. So am I right love, _is_ that where that stupid name came from?"

"The nickname came first, then she had this thing made." I said hurling the toy into the corner of the container, "Gave it to me with a pair of earrings, thought it was oh so fucking funny. She was always calling me her little 'Action Barbie' you know, I fucking hated it; it cheapened what I did you know? I was proud of being in the Army, _am_ proud of being a Red Cap and she took the piss out of it with that stupid fucking nickname and that stupid fucking doll."

I could feel my blood boiling as I spoke, it had been a major annoyance that I had never managed to get through to my ex, that her 'Action Barbie' name was a fucking insult to me, and everyone else that I served with. I'd barely finished speaking before Emily was wrapping her arm around my shoulders.

"hey, hey…I'm sorry honey," she said soothingly, "I didn't mean to bring up bad memories. I'm not like that love, I respect who you are; I'm not like Amy."

"I know Ems," I replied, leaning into her hug. "It's just she never got it, saw it all as a joke, gave me that stupid fucking doll as a Christmas present and thought it was fucking awesome. I should have binned it in front of her…but you know?"

"You thought it would be cruel?"

"Sort of," I said noncommittally, not wanting to admit to the real reason, feeling a shit that I had ignored it just to have someone there for me when I came home from the war; just have to have somewhere I could dump my boots and rest my head that wasn't the barracks.

"Nomi," Emily said softly stroking my hair, "you _should_ be proud of your service, you should be proud of who you are; Amy was a fool not to understand, to take the piss like that with a stupid toy…I mean, its not even right is it?"

"How do you mean?" I asked breathing carefully and trying to put that part of my past behind me where it belonged.

"Well, I _know_ you weren't blonde when you were with Amy, I _know_ you wouldn't wear green in the desert, and I might not like guns, but I do sell them and that was obviously an AK-47 and I _doubt_ you ever used one of them in the _British_ Army. I don't know much honey, but if I was going to do something like that I'd at least try for accuracy."

"You know a lot more then her and her friends love," I told her emphatically, realising that she'd grasped in one look something that Amy had failed to understand at all.

"Not that that's the point," I added quickly. "It wasn't ever about the inaccuracy, it was about the lack of respect; Amy didn't like the army, didn't like me doing what I loved, and didn't like that it took me away from her. This was like a slap in the face, made me out to be a toy you know? Trivialised me."

I sighed as she held me tighter as I spoke, sharing just a little bit more of me with her again. "But it doesn't matter anymore, that's all behind me now; it's just something that needs forgetting."

"Want me to go and find the fucking thing and throw it in a skip for you baby?" Emily asked after hugging me tightly and kissing me once more. "Get rid of it for ever?"

"Nah," I said relaxing at last, "just don't go looking for it and I'll be happy."

"It's forgotten already darling," Emily said as she gripped my face and kissed me softly. "As far as I'm concerned it never existed, and for the record I think you're a lot more than a stupid doll, I think you're awesome."

"Thanks Ems, you're far too good to me you know that?"

"That's what being in love means honey; you're pretty good to me as well you know?"

"Guess that means I more than like you then Ems," I replied, resurrecting out conversation from the day before.

"I already knew that Nomi," she said ruffling my hair, "you kind of proved that yesterday…quite a few times as I remember."

"Perv," I replied raising an eyebrow at her words and grinning, feeling a bit better.

"Not precisely what I meant love, I meant the walk, and what you said about me to James at dinner, not just what we got up to in the bedroom." Emily let me go and smiled, "Not that I'm complaining about _that_ mind you, you can prove you love me like that any time you like."

With a flick of her delicious arse she went back into the clutter of boxes, vanishing out of my sight into the dimly lit shipping container.

"Come on Naomi," she called out from the darkness, "sooner we find the stuff you want; the sooner we can get home."

"I thought we weren't in any rush Ems," I said as I climbed out of my favourite chair, the one with the damaged arm.

"We're not baby," she called out again, "but the sooner we get home the sooner I can prove how much I love you…again and again."

"Feeling horny again Ems?" I teased, dragging out a box and reading the label…before shoving it to one side and searching again.

"When it comes to you Naomi," Emily answered, appearing right next to me; "consider me insatiable. If it wasn't for the creep that owns this place, I'd close that door and take you here and now."

"Hmmm," I replied thinking about the look that the owner had given us when we'd walked to my container hand in hand. "That's not a good plan, no."

"So hurry up then Nomi, then we can leave, head home, and then I can treat you to a nice back massage."

"You have my interest love," I called after her as she vanished again. "Find my books box and I'll make us a Sunday roast again."

"Deal," she shouted as I heard the sound of boxes being dragged around on the steel floor. "It's by the door, on the left hand side of the table….I'm _really _looking forward to dinner now honey."

"I'm looking forward to that massage," I replied finding the box with the stuff from my room in the barracks and hauling it out. I'm going to put this in the car, see if you can find my kitchen things, fuck knows we need them."

"Yes Sarge, right away Sarge!" she shouted like a new recruit, and laughing again I headed out into the sun.

o+o+o

The boot of the X5 was full of my boxes as we drove back to London, the ride suffering a little as a result of finding my cooking stuff. Still I was in no real hurry, despite the promise of a massage; it was a beautiful day, I was with a beautiful girl and it was still a great drive in the sun. In fact only a little playful argument over music choice cast any form of cloud over the journey, and it was a cute and fluffy little cloud at that.

"Having fun there?" I asked as Emily sang along to a song that was playing on the radio, our compromise as to what to listen to on the way home.

"I am," she replied, patting me on the leg, "I like being chauffeured around by pretty girls."

I smiled, being forced to ignore her, concentrating instead on a Mercedes that was barrelling down the motorway behind us. Relaxing only when, at the very last minute, it swung out into the middle lane and swept past us, the big truck rocking slightly as it swung aggressively back into the inside lane in front of us.

"Someone's in a hurry," Emily noted nodding at the disappearing car. "Wonder if that driver is on a promise too, there's got to be some excuse for driving like a dickhead!"

"He's going to be on something love," I replied, spotting the flashing blue lights of a police interceptor in the rear view mirror, "but I don't think it's a promise." Seconds later it shot past us, followed by another one for good measure; both presumably in pursuit of the speeding Merc.

"I hope they catch him," she said firmly, scowling after the cars. "Whatever he's done."

"Perhaps we'll find out in a bit," I replied hoping personally that the idiot didn't crash and close the motorway. "If they pull him over we might see him again soon."

"Ha, I hope so, I hate idiots like him," she said passionately snuggling back into her seat once more. "There's no need to drive like that, it's not as if the road is busy, or like you were hogging the middle lane or something."

"Well we'll see, don't let it stress you love, no harm done."

"Yeah."

We didn't see the Mercedes again, the M4 being pretty quiet for a late Sunday afternoon and, apart from Emily's singing, there was nothing to disturb the journey until the phone rang as we ambled along the road towards Newbury. As annoyed as I was to see JJ's name appear, at least it silenced my girlfriend as the tunes ended and the call took over.

"Afternoon LT what can I do for you?" I answered politely on the built in hands-free unit.

"Good afternoon Sarge," JJ's voice echoed around the cab, amplified by the multiple speakers, "I'm here with Mr Fitch, is Miss Fitch with you right now?"

I caught the subtle warning in his voice along with the mention of Rob, for some reason the hairs on the back of my neck stood up; had we been discovered? Judging by the look Emily gave me as we listened; she was thinking the same thing too.

"She wouldn't be anywhere else JJ," I said as professionally as I could. "Not when I'm on duty anyway, we're just driving back from Bath actually; Miss Fitch was visiting her mother this weekend."

"Jenna said she was having a party this weekend," Rob Fitch's voice boomed out, afternoon Naomi, I hope my daughter is behaving."

"Good afternoon Rob," I replied breathing a little easier and sharing a look with Emily; "Miss Fitch has been a delight to protect, though I'm afraid she's far too keen on long walks for my liking, and her choice of driving music doesn't match mine."

"I bet she got her way though Naomi," Rob laughed, "she's a terrier my daughter, and of course she's the boss."

"We compromised daddy," Emily said before I could reply. "I'm afraid Naomi's a better negotiator than I gave her credit for, and I didn't fancy walking home…I did get the radio station I wanted though."

Rob's laughter filled the car, "Well done Emily, well done. Look I hate to ruin your Sunday but I need you both in the office as soon as you can get here. How long will that take you?"

Emily looked at me and shrugged, I looked at the sat nav and made a couple of guesses. "About an hour and a half Rob," I said a hint of uncertainty in my voice, "perhaps longer depending on traffic in the City."

"That'll be fine, get here as fast as you can though, there's things we need to discuss."

"What's going on daddy?" Emily said frowning at his words, "is something wrong?"

"Not at all Emily, quite the opposite in fact. There's been a few, well enforced, changes in the administration in the Iraqi National Police and they're taking tenders for equipment sooner rather than later. So we need to make plans fast, because as of next Monday we need to be in Baghdad and giving our presentations."

"Next Monday?" Emily nearly shrieked, "I thought it was supposed to be next month we were going over."

"So did I Emily," Rob said, "that's why I've dragged Jeremiah in on a Sunday. James is on his way as well, so the sooner that you can get here the better."

"We're on our way Mr Fitch," I said as Emily slumped in her seat shaking her head. "LT do we have an updated security report on the Green Zone?"

"I've got what we have Sarge," JJ replied, a hint of his stammer creeping back into his voice. "I'll already e-mailed the team to get something put together first thing tomorrow, I'll make sure we all have what we need as soon as I can."

"Great, thanks LT; I knew you'd be on the ball. If that's all I'd better concentrate on getting to you, we'll see you in a bit."

"See you in a bit Naomi, and thank you," Rob said cutting across JJ's goodbyes

"All part of the service Rob," I replied as the phone went dead.

"There goes your massage honey," Emily said already typing wildly into her Blackberry.

"There goes your roast dinner," I replied taking my hand from the steering wheel and touching her arm gently. "We'll be fine; it's not as bad out there as it was in my day you know?" I was lying, it was still as dangerous as fuck out there; our research so far had proved that.

"It's all too soon babe," she said not looking up from the screen, "I'm nowhere near ready, there's going to be a lot of late nights this week I'm afraid; and I'm going to need a lot of help from you as well."

"I'll do what I can love," I said doubtfully, "but I think I may have my hands full helping JJ set up the security for you while we're there. We had some provisional plans in place, but that was for next month, we're going to have to work fast to ensure your safety."

"That's what I meant," she said absently, all business all of a sudden. "I'll need you to act as my liaison with the Police over there; I'll need route plans from the airport to wherever we'll be staying, security assessments of the places we're meeting and a whole lot more."

"Not a problem Miss Fitch," I said reprogramming the sat nav to take me to the headquarters of Fitch Industries. "Whatever you need I'll do my best to sort out for you."

"Good," she replied before looking up suddenly. Shit I'm sorry babe, that was really rude of me wasn't it? I shouldn't talk to you like that."

"It's ok Ems," I replied with a grin. "Trust me; you're far more polite than my old Sergeant used to be in the CPU when he wanted things done."

"Still, it's no excuse to be rude, forgive me?"

"Nothing to forgive," I told her firmly looking out at the road, "let's concentrate on making this happen safely ok? We can leave the politeness until later, I'm going to make demands of you and vice versa love, so I think we'll be best served promising to be forgiving and understanding for the next couple of weeks. I think it's going to be stressful for both of us and we can't let it affect us at home as well as at work."

I looked over at her; she was smiling and looking at me fondly. "Deal?" I asked returning her smile.

"Deal," she replied reaching out to touch my leg once more, "and thanks darling, thanks for being so great about this."

"I just want to keep you safe love," I said pressing the accelerator and watching the time go down on the screen.

"I know honey," she said squeezing my thigh, "but thanks anyway."

"You're welcome," I said as she removed her hand and buried her head in the Blackberry once more.

As I drove along the endless black asphalt my mind was filled with the problems that we might come across. Despite my reassurances to Emily I knew that Baghdad was still bandit country, and with the threats still rolling in from _Khuddam al Islam_ there wasn't any room for error.

The next week was going to be interesting; the week after, well, I hoped against hope that it was going to be as boring as hell.

.

.

.

**Authors Note:** Emily's painting of Effy is inspired by the one in the back of the Skins novel, just so you know (-:

See you next week folks, thanks for sticking with this; means a lot!


	57. Pressure, Promotions and Phone Calls

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness, a heavy case of writers block, (every chapter is a struggle), and an ex I could still more than happily put in the Basement with Naomi, even now!

I still have nothing to do with Skins, but then do we care about Skins any more? We have our _own_ Skins…#OccupySkinsGen2 (thanks to the twitter folks for the correction).

**Authors Note: **What, we not enjoying this any more? Guess who's feeling good as we're on the homeward stretch now, still a ways to go yet, but WOOT!

Enjoy, but not too much (-;

**Chapter 57 – Pressure, Promotions and Phone Calls**

"We've arrived boss," I said to Cook, as I pulled into the private car park of the building that housed Fitch Industries. "I'll see you in a minute or two."

I didn't get a reply and, as I looked at the screen I realised he was already gone; the signal lost as I dived into the underground vault. I swung into Emily's marked space to see Cook's convertible parked in the space next to it.

"Time to put the mask on Ems," I said as I turned off the engine, "you ready?"

"One second babe," she said typing away on her tiny keyboard. "Right, that's me done."

"Shall we then?" I asked with a fraught smile.

"One thing first love," Emily replied unbuckling her seat belt and leaning over towards me, puckering up her lips for a kiss.

"Not here Ems, rules remember?" I replied with regret, reminding her of the convention that we had set ourselves for acceptable behaviour in her workplace.

"Well I will hold you to that kiss Naomi Campbell," she said pouting and leaning back. "You owe me now…"

"…and I'll be happy to repay you Emily Fitch," I told her smiling, "_when_ we get home that is."

"You're right, I know," she conceded sighing. "Now am I allowed to get out of the car myself today or do I have to wait for you?"

"Let's get back into the habit of doing things right Miss Fitch," I said with a wink, opening my door and climbing out; walking around the truck I opened her door, but only after I'd checked our surroundings.

"Thank you," Emily said as I helped her down, closing the door and locking the car behind us. "Shall we go run the gauntlet?"

"Absolutely," I said gesturing for her to continue. We walked over to the lifts and waited; watching the countdown intently as we waited for the doors to open. Minutes later we had walked out onto the carpeted floor of Fitch Industries reception, the empty darkness making it slightly eerie.

"Naomi, Emily, over here," we heard a voice call out. We both turned simultaneously to see JJ stood by the doorway to the offices, beckoning us over. "We're all in the conference room, come on Rob's waiting."

"When did all this happen LT," I asked as we made our way through the dimly lit corridors up to the conference room.

"About lunchtime today Sarge," JJ said hurriedly as we dashed along. "That's when Mr Fitch called me anyway. It's been a bit frantic since then."

"I bet," Emily said with a laugh. "Daddy's very much a now, now, now person isn't he?"

"He is Miss Fitch, but then he's not that much different from Mr Cook in that way, so I'm quite used to it."

"Are we going to be ok doing this so soon JJ?" she asked, sounding quite worried for the first time today.

"It'll be a lot of work but I think we'll be ok Miss Fitch, we have an excellent team backing us up, and as you know Naomi here is a fine CPO."

"Told you Miss Fitch," I said opening the door to the Conference room. "We'll have your security sorted ready for the day, trust me."

"You better believe it Naomikins," Cook's voice rang out. I grinned as we walked in and nodded to a bored looking Effy who was sat in the corner. "Emily, nice to see you again, it's been too long."

"Hi James," Emily said rolling her eyes at his overacted Southern charm, "Effy."

Effy waved from her seat in the corner, a momentary flicker of interest appearing on her face as she watched us both walk in and sit down at the huge table.

"Nice to have you all here," Rob said, clearly attempting to seize back control. "Sorry to drag you all here on a Sunday evening, but time is of the essence…"

Rob droned on for the next hour, giving us the totally unnecessary background to events and a potted history of how he'd realised the opportunity and got the opportunity to move the tendering process moved forward, despite the dangers that dealing in the Green Zone would cause.

As far as I was concerned it was nonsense, and I suspected Emily found it the same way, judging by her responses to Rob's questions anyway. At half past six I, and everyone else, were left in no doubt that she'd had enough.

"Daddy," she'd interrupted him as he discussed the key people that he wanted to have meetings with. "Is there anything you're going to tell us today that we don't already know?"

"I'm sorry?" Rob said, momentarily thrown off his stride.

"Daddy it's half six on a Sunday night and you've told us nothing we hadn't already planned for as part of the work we had already done. All we really need to consider is the decreased timescales and one new person that we have to account for. Frankly daddy I've wasted an hour and a bit here, I could be trying to put the bid together, and I'm sure James and JJ want to start their preparation work as well."

"Well there's a bit more to it than that," Rob said his white teeth shining as he smiled his best fake smile.

"Not for today there isn't," Emily continued, subtly taking charge of the meeting, "in fact I need to speak to JJ here about where we'll be putting up the team during our stay and how we're all going to get there safely, and that's about all we can do here today. I'll get some emails sent now before I go home, but until I can get on the phone tomorrow that's that."

She stood up confidently, her hands spread. "So I think that's everything, JJ if I could have a second before you go? Thank you everyone for coming, I know it's going to be a tough week for us all, but I'm sure we'll get there together…Naomi?"

With that she swept from the room imperiously and I rushed after her, waving goodbye at the rest of the assembled team as I did so. Rob didn't look at all pleased, but with the rug pulled unceremoniously from underneath him he had no option but to acquiesce or risk looking more of a muppet.

"Fucks sake," Emily said as I closed her office door behind her and watched her rub her temples as she sat down and turned on her computer. "What a waste of fucking time, as if I haven't got better things to do than listen to that prick blow smoke up his own arse. I'm sorry hun, we should be at home relaxing now."

"It's ok Ems," I told her as I stood by the door waiting for JJ to arrive. "I wouldn't be relaxing tonight anyway after that news, there are far too many things to be thinking about right now?"

"Tell me about it," she grumbled as she started typing on the keyboard, her fingers hammering into the keys forcefully. She didn't know the half of it, I thought to myself; if she didn't get things right it just meant that Fitch Industries didn't get the deal they wanted, didn't get to make a few extra quid profit. If I got things wrong, people died.

It was a totally different level of pressure, but one that I was not only used to, I was trained for; and already my mind was thinking about the things I needed to know, and the logistics we would need to have in place to make sure my girl and her team arrived, did their business and went home safely. To me there was no more important thing than that, profit meant nothing when compared to human life, no matter what the industrialists may think.

I opened the door at JJ's knock and smiled as both him and Cook appeared, Effy trailing along behind them, the ever present smirk fixed firmly on her face as she slumped dramatically onto the sofa.

"Rob's decided you're right Emily and he should call it a night, he's heading home now, but suggested that JJ and I were needed to talk about security with you, as you suggested."

"Like I need three security people to sit around and twiddle their thumbs," Emily said shaking her head. "I'm sorry you all got dragged in today guys, there really wasn't any need."

"That what we get paid for Emily, Cook said shaking his head at her apology. "It's probably just as well as the four of us get together anyway, we need to agree some ground rules for when you're on the ground over there."

"Basically you'll do as we say and not question it all the time," I interrupted with a grin, not that it seemed to help judging by the look I was given. Quickly I tried to hide the order in a morass of other stuff, "are you joining us boss, it was originally me, the LT and three others when we discussed this before?"

"Not this time Naomi no," Cook said with a laugh at Emily's face at my assertion, "I'm not very popular with some of the authorities in Baghdad, but I do have enough influence to call in a few favours."

"Are we likely to have any problems because of that boss," I asked, suddenly worried by his admission.

"Not at all Sarge," JJ said sounding confident, allowing me to relax a little. "We've operated as a company in Iraq for years without any issues at all, and I know a few people over there too; don't worry about it."

"…and what's this about doing whatever you tell me Naomi," Emily said huffily, "you work for me remember?"

"Well technically I work for Cook, who works for your father Miss Fitch," I replied holding her gaze, not wanting to back down here; "and, if you remember, in matters of security we have total control."

"But…" she started to say; fortunately for me I had my answer ready.

"We agreed this Emily," I reminded her, "a long time ago now. You agreed to let me deal with your security."

"Yes but…"

"But nothing Emily," Cook agreed, "there are a lot of risks involved in what you're about to do and I'm afraid that we need a veto on everything you have planned. If we think it's too dangerous you need to listen to us, both of you. I get the feeling you're as stubborn as your father and that's not going to do any of us any good. It is _your_ safety we're interested in, and nothing else."

"There have to be some risks though," Emily replied to him, the tone in her voice telling me that his reasoned argument had almost won through; "nothing is ever one hundred percent safe."

"No, but we can do our very best to make sure you and your father are as safe as we can possibly make you," JJ added, "and I can assure you that we're very, very good at what we do."

"I already know that," Emily replied, looking at JJ pensively, "I just can't risk ruining this deal, Dad will go batshit."

"Trust us Emily," he replied confidently, "if we plan it properly and you work with us then it'll be smooth and simple, no different to anyone else over there."

"and if it's not?"

"Then someone will be dead Emily," Effy said from the sofa, "so stop fighting them; I'd kind of like my new drinking buddies to come back from what is still practically a fucking war zone in one piece thank you very much. I don't have that many friends I can afford to lose any, you know?"

I fought back a smile as Effy's nonchalant charm totally defused the situation, and left Emily doing a fish impression to boot. The argument was over, a truce had been declared and all that was required now was to negotiate the terms of the ceasefire; and I was confident that the guys could do that without me sticking my big feet in again. I think I'd done enough damage for one evening with one well meaning comment; a comment, I guess, I will probably have to apologise for later.

I caught Effy's eye as Emily gave up and started talking to JJ about the logistics for the trip, I smiled at her and received a wink in reply.

"Drink anyone?" I said, feeling like a waste of space right there and then, "tea or coffee?"

"a large flask of coffee would be great Naomi, thank you," Emily replied without looking up from her computer and I was happy to leave the room followed by a grinning Effy.

"I think you might have annoyed her there," she said as I grabbed the flasks that Bonnie kept in a cupboard in our little office.

"It was a joke Eff," I replied walking down the dark corridor to the small kitchenette that we used.

"Not totally though, didn't you tell me much the same the first time we met?"

"Pretty much," I admitted a little sheepishly.

"And you meant it then didn't you?" Effy pressed.

"Yes I did; look Eff, Emily and I discussed this, it'll be fine."

I didn't feel as confident as I sounded, and I knew that I hadn't fooled her one little bit.

"Ok I'll explain and apologise," I said as I poured the hot water from the kettle into the flask, stirring the coffee carefully. "I just want to keep her safe Eff, is there anything wrong with that? Iraq's a fucking hell hole, trust me I know!"

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions Naomi," she said sanctimoniously before patting me on the shoulder and laughing. "Sorry that sounded awful didn't it, but you know what I mean. Don't fuck things up with Emily because you're trying to keep her safe ok? You two are actually a cute couple, and your protectiveness is lovely and all that, but you're like James sometimes; you're not in the army anymore Naomi, and Emily isn't one of your recruits. James learnt that lesson a long time ago with me, time you learnt it as well before you do something stupid."

"We agreed to keep work and home separate Eff," I said defensively, "we talked about it in the car."

"It doesn't work like that Naomi," she said clasping my arms and staring right into my eyes, "you might wish it like that, but it doesn't. There were times when I could have killed James because of the way he behaved and as much as I tried to forget it when we were at home I couldn't, he couldn't…it just sort of leeched into our daily lives and it nearly ended us before we began."

"What did you end up doing?" I asked, interested despite my belief that we'd be strong enough to get past things like this.

"I sacked him, and split up with him at the same time," she said with a smile. "After that he learned that he needed to calm down."

"Jesus Eff," I said as she nodded at my disbelieving face. "What did he do to deserve that?"

"He told me that I needed to stop arguing and do as I was told," she replied with a faraway look on her face. "He basically told me the same thing you just told Emily my friend, joking or not."

She patted me on the arm and walked out of the kitchenette, leaving me alone in the gloom with my thoughts.

o+o+o

"I wasn't being totally serious before Ems," I said later, when we were alone in her office. It was approaching eight o'clock and I was waiting for her to finish the draft of her sales pitch.

"You weren't totally kidding either though, were you?" she responded taking off her glasses and rubbing her eyes.

"Not totally, but I don't think I phrased it very well," I admitted, scrabbling to apologise.

"That's one way of putting it," she said coldly.

"Yeah, well…I can't help being a bit of a twat when it comes to keeping you safe Emily," I told her hoping she'd get it. "I'm sorry if I offended you, I really am, but I've got a million things going through my head right now and all of them involve bad things happening to you on my watch and I don't think I can deal with that."

"Are you asking me to replace you?" she asked looking up suddenly, looking concerned at my words. I shook my head rapidly by way of reply. "So what _are_ you asking me?"

"I'm asking you to forgive me for being a prick love, I'm asking you to understand that I'm scared, and most of all I'm asking that you do as we agreed and trust me when it comes to your safety."

"I wouldn't do anything else Nomi," she said in a voice softer than it had been since we arrived at the office. Slowly she walked over and sat down on the sofa next to me.

"Can I tell you something?" she asked quietly, taking my hands and squeezing them gently as I nodded. "I'm fucking terrified right now baby, I'm trying to do everything you told me, you know? Holding on to the fear and using it? I'm trying to channel it into what I'm doing, it's not doing me any good though, look."

She let go of my hands and held her own up, they were shaking slightly and when I stared into her eyes I could see the same look of fear I'd seen back on that April day when we'd been attacked; not as strong admittedly, not the dead eyes of a girl in blind panic, but scared enough to know that she wasn't kidding me.

"Jesus baby, why didn't you say something?" I asked pulling her into me and hugging her tightly, feeling her hug me back, our argument forgotten for now.

"I was trying to be brave, I thought I was doing well too, until everyone left, and we weren't talking, and I was all annoyed with you and everything."

"I said I was sorry love," I repeated rubbing her back soothingly, locked in her death grip.

"And I said I forgive you sweetheart," she replied squeezing me even tighter, my ribs protesting under her strong grip. "But I am scared, and the more I think about things the more frightened I get."

"Then let's go home love," I told her, placing my head on her shoulder. "We can sort a lot more out tomorrow anyway, you can focus on making your dodgy deals and I can focus on getting us there and back safe and sound, there's no point in sitting here and worrying about it for no reason. You'll feel better when we have a plan in place."

"I still need to finish that report honey," she said taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. "See if that'll help me take my mind off things again. Can you give me five minutes? Ten at the most?"

"If I must," I said releasing her and ruffling her hair, getting a pout as she ran her hands through it to straighten it out. "Why don't I call the local curry house and order some food to collect on the way home; you must be famished right now."

"You're far too good to me Nomi," Emily said ruffling my hair as she stood, kissing my head when she finished.

"I think we've had this conversation hun," I said, hunting through my pockets for my phone, "sort of anyway."

"Yeah well," she said, walking back to her gigantic desk. "Could you order me the usual?" she added as she sat, put on her glasses and went back to typing.

"Sure, when do you want me to say we'll come and collect it, about an hour, hour and a half?" I asked, knowing instantly that her estimate for how long she would be was hopelessly inaccurate.

"Perfect," she said absently; and smiling I made the call.

o+o+o

"Stuffed," Emily announced pushing away her plate and slumping back on the sofa, "thanks for sorting that honey."

"You're welcome," I replied, spooning in just one more mouthful of my lamb madras. "We'll probably regret it in the morning though," I added glancing meaningfully at the clock.

"I think I might have a bit more to worry about than eating late babe," she said, her eyes screwed tightly shut, "I've got so much to do tomorrow it's untrue, and you can bet your arse that dad and Katie will be fucking AWOL because there's work to be done."

"Didn't you say Katie was having a long weekend with Gareth?" I reminded her as I cleared away the plates and cartons that I'd served dinner on.

"Fuck, she is isn't she?" Emily said sighing again, "I bet she rings in tomorrow to say they're staying for a couple more days or something."

"Where did you say they've gone," I asked, walking back into the living room and sat down in front of her.

"Venice," she said sighing again, "it's where they went for their honeymoon. Katie loves it there and Gareth thought it would be nice to go for a short break as he's not playing at the moment and Katie's all stressed after last weekend."

"Sounds nice," I replied, allowing myself to relax now that dinner was done.

"I guess, I've only been once and I didn't really like it," she said before pausing and drawing in a deep, sharp breath. "Oh God that feels amazing, don't stop."

"I have no intentions of stopping," I told her, kneading her foot slowly. "Sit back and enjoy it babe, drink your wine and relax."

I placed her bare feet into my lap and sat more comfortably on the thick rug, my hands working away on her, her grunts of pleasure my reward for my efforts. It was something I'd always prided myself on, my foot massages, and it looked like I hadn't lost my touch…no pun intended.

"Do you want to talk about it Ems?" I asked after a few minutes, as I saw her sink back, her shoulders finally relaxing.

"Not really babe, what I'd like to do now is forget all about it until tomorrow, like you said."

"Good, anything I can do to help?" I asked teasing her, running my finger along the base of her foot, grinning as it twitched involuntarily.

"Well you can stop tickling me like that for a start," she said her toes flexing in irritation; her tone though, light and relaxed.

"Yes ma'am," I replied, placing her foot into my lap carefully and continuing to massage it softly, "whatever you say ma'am."

o+o+o

"I fucking _knew_ it!"

Monday morning brought drama to the office as an already stressed Emily's day went from bad to worse; Bonnie and I looking up simultaneously as her outburst came through the door. Bonnie flinched as there was the sound of something hitting the wall of her office; I was already out of my seat and heading for the door, knocking and entering without waiting for a reply.

"What's the matter?" I asked closing the door and bending down to pick up the shattered remains of a Blackberry that quite obviously had been the object that had made the offending noise.

"Fucking Dad, I fucking knew he'd do this…didn't I tell you? He's just e-mailed to tell me that he's got a 'meeting' today, means he's either fucking that slut or he's off playing golf."

"He's not with his PA," I told her knowing the 'slut' in question, "I saw her swanning past before on her way to her office."

"So I have to assume that he's playing golf then," she said as I dropped the pieces of her phone onto the desk in front of her. "Like I haven't got enough to do. I told you he'd fucking skive."

"Can I make a suggestion Ems," I said tentatively, not knowing how she would take what I was about to say.

"Will it give me another twelve hours a day for the rest of the week that I can use to sort all this shit out?"

"It might," I said sitting on the chair opposite her. "If you don't mind me saying it looks a lot like you're making a mistake I once made…"

o+o+o

_7__th__ May 2003 - Basra, Iraq: 20:50hrs_

"_What the fuck are you doing White," I shouted angrily as Paul fucked about loading the crates into the back of our Landy in the slowest and messiest way possible._

"_Loading the fucking bus, what does it look like?"_

"_It looks like you're making a fucking balls up White," I said, pushing my face into his, my nice new stripe giving me confidence; "as per fucking usual."_

"_Sorry _Corporal _Campbell_,_" he said sarcastically, emphasising the difference in rank between us with that one, overemphasised word. _

"_Just fuck off Paul," I snapped angrily, "I'll fucking do it."_

_I began tossing the crates onto the back of the Landy before jumping inside and pulling them into place, stacking them neatly in place._

"_Want a job doing properly…" I muttered to myself angrily as I finished loading the vehicle and jumped out…right into the stoney glare of Sergeant David 'Grouch' Langdon._

"_Campbell, what the fuck do you think you're doing?" He said in a voice that left me in no doubt that I was about to get a full on bollocking if I didn't talk fast._

"_Making sure that the vehicles are squared away Sarge," I barked, my eyes fixed on a point somewhere over his shoulder._

"_and are you supposed to be doing that Corporal? Or are you supposed to be making sure the Guard rosta was sorted for the week…LIKE I ASKED YOU TO!"_

"_That was my next job Sergeant," I said as calmly as I could, despite my heart racing ten to the dozen. "I wanted to make sure that everything was ok before tomorrows patrol."_

_Grouch stared at me, his eyes cutting strips from my face like shrapnel. Eventually I stopped staring into the middle distance and flinched, my eyes meeting his directly before I looked away again._

"_Walk with me Campbell," he said nodding at me and turning away, heading off on his usual evening tour of the compound with me following behind like an obedient puppy._

"_Word in your shell like Campbell," he said as we walked along the exterior wall of our compound. "You're being a fucking prick and it had better stop before someone out there gives serious thought to killing you; someone other than me that is."_

"_Sarge?" I ventured, hoping he'd elaborate, but not wanting to poke the hornets nest any further than I already had._

"_Naomi do you see me loading Land Rovers? Do you see me checking the ammunition stores, or cooking the evening meal?"_

"_No Sarge," I replied simply._

"_Do you, by any chance, see me organising guard rosters?"_

"_No Sarge," I repeated._

"_Why don't you see me organising guard rosters Naomi?"_

"_Because that's _my_ job Sarge," I replied, getting the distinct feeling that I knew where this conversation was going._

"_Exactly" he said a hint of sarcastic triumph in his voice. "Now then, why don't I want to see you loading Land Rovers and checking ammunition stores Naomi?_

"_Because that's not my job Sarge," I said knowing the answer he wanted._

"_Precisely. Keep doing it Corporal and I _will_ have you peeling potatoes for dinner for the rest of your fucking time out here!"_

"_But White was fucking it up as usual Sarge," I said, trying to defend my actions as we rounded the corner and back into the main part of the base, hugging the wall as usual for safety._

"_Corporal Campbell, you've more than earned that extra stripe on your arm; but the way you're acting you're going the right way to lose it. You're making the same mistake a lot of people make kid, you're trying to do everything yourself."_

"_Sometimes it's the only way to get the job done right Sarge," I confessed, knowing the limitations of the people in our unit._

"_Bullshit," he said forcibly. "For someone so smart you're a fucking idiot Campbell, you know what's going on around here right now; or you should do. Do a lap of this compound and think it over. I'll expect that guard roster at 22:00hrs on the dot, and I want your ideas on what you're doing wrong, and what you're going to do about it as well."_

_He walked away from me, striding towards a lit cigarette by the main gate, having spotted what I had a second later; one of the guards smoking whilst on stag duty. Wryly I pulled my own fags out of my pocket and sparked up, taking a long drag and holding it before letting it out slowly. I smoked in silence for a few minutes before tossing the butt into the dusty surface and stubbing it out, covering it with the sand. I bit down on my lip thoughtfully before setting off on my lap of the compound. I had some serious thinking to do._

o+o+o

"Fascinating story," Emily said as I paused to collect my thoughts, "but it's hardly gaining me any time is it Naomi? In fact it's costing me quite a bit as it happens."

"Call it an investment," I said standing firm in my beliefs that what I was saying would help her the way it had helped me.

"Oh go on then," she replied leaning back in her chair, "did you work out what he wanted you to?"

"Well I did make it to Sergeant," I reminded her, "and no one actually tried to kill me."

"Keep talking and someone might," she said, "especially if you don't get to the point soon."

"Point is simple Ems," I replied undaunted. "What Grouch wanted me to realise was that it was my job to give people things to do, and then make sure they were done right, not do them myself. My mistake was that if things went wrong I reverted to type and got stuck in; trying to fix it directly, rather than making the person that was supposed to do it, do it right. Grouch made me realise that as soon as I was promoted the guys started slacking off to see how far they could push me. I started the wrong way, I soon stopped."

"What did you do then?" Emily asked, her tone marginally less hostile.

"I started giving people their jobs back, and I got on with my own."

"Fucks sake, I can't exactly do that Naomi," she exploded, "I don't have time to retrain them all."

"You have a good team Emily, and you have Bonnie out there who's damned capable and champing at the bit for more authority, not to mention her boyfriend who's looking for a promotion from being Katie's skivvy. Take a look at everything you have and see what you can pass on, the secret is only deal with things at your level Ems."

"My level?"

"You're the _boss_ Emily Fitch, and you need to act like one; right now it's time make some executive decisions. You've got what, four and a bit days to do a fuckload of work? You have to start using your people hun or you're going to go insane, or fail, or both. From where I stand you should be passing out the donkey work and reviewing the progress and that's it."

"And hand out the arse kicking's when things don't go the way I want."

"Now you're getting the idea," I replied getting out of the chair, "it worked for me anyway. Now, would you like a cup of tea while you think it over?"

"A big glass of wine would be better, but yes please that would be lovely." I winked and headed for the door to my cubby hole only to be stopped when Emily's voice called out once again. "Nomi, do you really think Bonnie is looking for more responsibility?"

"I know she is, and I know she's ready for it too Ems, she's a clever kid, she's organised and she's very capable; you should give her a chance."

"Ok, do me a favour and ask her to pop in, time to see how good she really is."

"Will do, I doubt you'll regret it hun, trust me."

"I do love, with my life…literally." To my relief Emily smiled for the first time since I'd walked into the office and was already sorting papers on her desk as I turned away.

"Naomi?" She said as my hand touched the handle of the door.

"Yes Miss Fitch?"

"Thank you."

"You're welcome ma'am," I said sketching her a smart salute. "it was my pleasure."

o+o+o

I wouldn't say that my advice changed Emily's life, but it certainly reduced her stress levels, and mine along with it. As she had predicted Katie didn't appear until Wednesday morning, swanning in like Sophia Loren and probably as much help as she would have been as well; declaring that she was off to 'work from home 'as she 'obviously wasn't needed'. Rob, well we didn't see him until late Wednesday evening; and all he wanted to do then was check that all 'his ideas' were going as planned, before vanishing for dinner with his 'bit on the side'.

Happily, thanks to Emily's new found delegation skills, and her judicious use of Bonnie as her attack dog, everything was indeed going to plan; and by the time Thursday afternoon came around she was relaxed enough about everything to join JJ, me and her father in a meeting about their security whilst they were abroad.

"We don't go outside the Green Zone unless we're travelling to or from the airport," JJ said, pointing to the highlighted areas on the projection screen. We've done a lot of talking with the contacts your team supplied and they're all keen to ensure that your safety is protected so all of your meetings have been arranged in one or two locations in the bubble."

"Sorry JJ, the bubble?" Emily said,

"It's what the Yanks called the Green Zone Emily," I interrupted. "It wasn't perfect, but back in the bad times it was the safest place in Baghdad. We could have done with security like that in Basra eh LT?"

"That would have been nice," JJ replied looking back at his aerial photograph. "Now, the main danger when we're inside the bubble is suicide bombers, there have been a few incidents since the Americans handed over control to the Iraqi's; but the area I'm most concerned about is the journeys from location to location, and especially the ones to and from the airport. We've secured some heavy duty SUV's for the journeys but you're always vulnerable in the open and we'll need to take a lot of precautions."

"That means that we recommend that you both wear body armour and a helmet whenever we're travelling," I told them wearing my best 'I'm serious' face; "and any other time we leave the safety of a building."

JJ and I had spent a lot of time discussing how we would approach this situation, getting the package to recognise the dangers they were facing and to listen to the advice you were giving them had always been the hardest part of the job. I'd spent a lot of the week quietly working on Emily, trying to assuage her fears, but play on her concerns. Subtly trying to manipulate her to make this stage a little bit easier.

Unfortunately, despite all that, she was still a stubborn bitch; and her father was no different.

"Not a chance," Emily said the second I'd spoken, followed a microsecond later by her fathers mocking scorn.

"Oh come now Naomi, that's going a little bit far don't you think," Rob said fake laughter in his voice. "I'm sure I've got more chance of getting killed crossing the road this evening than I would in a couple of car journeys, no matter where I'm travelling."

"Well statistically you are absolutely correct Mr Fitch," JJ started, his fingers twitching as he spoke. "However Baghdad is also statistically the second most dangerous place in the world at the moment, after Afghanistan, and I don't think it's a good idea to take any chances."

"JJ's right Rob," I added, "you're both quite good targets _without_ the knowledge that there is an Islamic group directly targeting you both, a little bit of body armour is just an extra piece of protection between you and any possible harm."

"But body armour," Emily protested, "It seems so unnecessary. I mean, how many locals will be wearing bullet proof vests?"

"I have no interest in the locals;" I said firmly, "my only interest is keeping you and Rob safe while we're there."

"It can't be that bad though," Rob continued, showing his ignorance with every second. "After all it's been a while since most of the Americans pulled out, things must be safer now."

We were ready for this, and right up to date as well, one thing Baghdad wasn't short of was things that would scare the obstinate. JJ flicked through his presentation to the slide that showed the long list of suicide bombings and assorted terrorist attacks inside and outside the bubble; the most recent only a few days before.

"Ok point made," Emily said staring at the figures.

"Let me tell you both something," I said using my best conciliatory voice, straight out of RMP Negotiations Class number 1. "JJ and I will be wearing body armour and a helmet at all times when we're out and about, and we'll both be armed at all times as well. We're not doing this to overdramatise or to make you look stupid, we're advising this because it's what's recommended, and what we think is a sensible precaution."

Rob still looked suspicious, it never failed to amaze me how people in powerful positions would fight you simply because they could; Rob was paying us a lot of money to advise him on his security, and he was about to head to one of the most dangerous places on the planet. Yet still he wanted to convince us he had balls the size of melons. I knew a power play when I saw one, and so did JJ, but this time he wasn't going to win.

"Mr Fitch," JJ said, winding up to our planned finale, "I understand your position, however as your security advisor I simply cannot stress enough how dangerous this trip is. This is a very small part of the security we have planned, but it's a vital one; Naomi and I can testify to how important body armour can be. Neither of us would be alive without it, and we both have the scars to prove it."

I met Emily's eyes and watched as they flicked to my shoulder and then down to my leg and I knew our plan was perfect.

"Ok JJ," she said finally, "body armour it is. But can I at least have one that fits properly?"

"I'll take you shopping personally Miss Fitch," JJ said with a grin, knowing as well as I did that we'd won.

"Does Paul Smith do body armour by any chance?" Rob said obviously deciding that humour was his way of saving face. "I think a nice pinstripe with that trademark lining would look quite dapper."

"I'm afraid not Mr Fitch," JJ said with a sympathetic smile, "but they do come in a fetching blue colour."

"Well then blue will have to do," Rob said standing. "I'll just have to make sure my wardrobe coordinates. Now if you'll all excuse me I have a dinner appointment that I simply can't miss. Emily love, I may be a little late in tomorrow morning but it looks like you have everything under control. JJ, Naomi, always a pleasure, thanks for your help."

With that he swept out of the room, his phone already pressed to his ear, talking to someone about a reservation he had at the Savoy; Emily, simply watched him go in silence, disgust painted all over her face.

o+o+o

"So, are you going to explain what today was all about hun?" Emily asked as we stood in her tiny kitchen preparing the evening meal.

"How do you mean?" I asked as I peeled the potatoes I was planning to turn into a nice creamy mash.

"The double teaming with JJ, it was a bit intense wasn't it, and did you need all those bloody pictures and numbers?"

"We knew you'd never agree to wear body armour and we needed to push away any arguments you may have had. The only way I could see to do that would be to scare the shit out of you."

"Nice, thanks a lot…_You_ said it isn't as bad as it used to be," she said accusingly as she added salt to the one thing I trusted her to look after, the pan of water that I was boiling. "In the car on Sunday I mean, you said it wasn't dangerous."

"I said no such thing hun," I replied quickly, "I did say it was better than when I was over there, and it is; but I would never tell you it's not dangerous because it is…very."

"But you said…"

"I was in the middle of a full blown insurgent war Emily, every man and his brother was looking to shoot us, shell us or blow us the fuck up. Baghdad was even worse; it's better now, but it's still bad news and we don't want to take any chances."

"You could have just asked," she retaliated, her hands on her hips. Carefully I reached around her and lit the burner under the pan.

"We tried that remember?" I asked, putting my hands onto her shoulders. "You blew up, that meant we had to put plan B into action."

I sighed as she stared up at me, I could see that I was making sense, but there was a bit more work needed. "Look Ems I'm sorry, but I knew if we got you on board your father would have to give in, and I knew the only way I could get past that stubborn streak of yours was to convince you that you had to listen. You could have made it easier for us you know, you _and_ your bloody father; frankly I'm surprised that you made it so difficult for us, after all you've seen my scars."

"That was nasty as well babe, a bit uncalled for."

"Worked though," I said, sliding my hands forward until my arms were draped over her, her hands moving from her hips to mine. "And it was in a good cause."

"A good cause?" she asked, her eyes confused, "what do you mean?"

"Keeping you intact," I replied, playing with her hair. "That's the good cause, that's my only cause; and I'm sorry if I had to scare you to get that done love, but I'll do anything to make sure this fabulous bundle of skin stays exactly the way it is right now. My scars are because I was too stupid to use the kit I was given properly; I don't want that to happen to you, you're perfect exactly as you are."

"I want to be very mad at you Naomi Campbell," Emily said shaking my hips firmly, "but I can't."

"You promised me you'd stop fighting Emily, you told me you trust me; all I'm asking is that you keep that promise so I can keep mine."

"I will," she said sighing and wrapping her arms around me properly, "I'm sorry I'm making things difficult."

"That's ok love," I replied kissing her head. "I do need you to do one more thing though."

"What's that babe?"

"Get out of my kitchen so I can get dinner done…I'm fucking starving."

o+o+o

After a nice meal and an early night, Emily was up with the lark on Friday morning. Fortunately, I was still an early riser myself and after a quick shower and a hastily eaten breakfast we were taking advantage of the quiet on the roads to get into work early.

There were a lot of things that we both still had to do if we were going to be ready for our flight on Sunday night; and an early start was most certainly needed.

"Morning Naomi, morning Emily," Bonnie said walking into Emily's office carrying a tray containing cups of tea and coffee and the daily papers an hour or so later than us. "You're both in early today, or didn't you go home last night?"

"Morning Bon," I said as she placed down the tray, "you're a lifesaver, she's been on a roll this morning…no time for a drink."

"Always time for a drink," Bonnie replied pouring a large cup of coffee for her boss and herself. "Emily I've got the figures back from Jay at AMT, he was a pain in the arse as you predicted, but he said if you meet him half way on the price he can do the volumes."

"What did you tell him?" Emily asked taking a sip of her coffee.

"Well," Bonnie said sheepishly, "I hope you don't mind but I told him to go fuck himself. I know you said that meeting in the middle was a good deal, but I thought I could do a bit better. We settled at five-twenty-five a unit shipped worldwide."

Emily took a long look at her PA and frowned. "I'm really going to miss you Bonnie," she said finally, gesturing to the chair opposite her. "You're wasted running my errands and answering calls."

"I'm sorry Emily?" Bonnie said sounding confused, poor girl obviously didn't see this coming.

"I think your last job as Emily's PA will be hiring your replacement Bon," I said, sitting back and enjoying the show, "I told you that you wouldn't regret it Ems."

"I do regret it Naomi," Emily said smiling, "Bonnie is a bloody good PA, and she's going to be a bloody good exec assistant as well."

"I'm sorry Emily, what are you saying exactly?"

I couldn't help but laugh. Emily had been bursting with pride all week as Bonnie took task after task in her stride, the promotion was well deserved and we both knew it.

"I'm saying you're no longer my PA Bonnie, I want you as my Executive Assistant, it'll mean a lot more responsibility and you'll be heading up a small team as well, but I have no doubt you'll handle it well as you have everything else this week. It'll only be a trial," she added quickly holding up her hand, "but do the job well for a month and it's yours if you want it."

"What exactly would I be doing?" she asked, sounding a little stunned…which was only to be expected I guess.

"Pretty much what you are doing now Bonnie," Emily said shrugging, "but with a lot more power and a much better pay packet; plus there will be a nice bonus this month as well for all your help."

"Your coffee's going cold Bon," I said, smiling happily as the pretty girl sat and stared. My eyes met Emily's across her office and I winked, knowing how happy she would be right now; I got a pleased smile in reply, the pride evident in her eyes.

"I don't know what to say," Bonnie said staring first at Emily and then over at me.

"Only two options my friend," I told her, sipping my tea casually.

"Naomi's right Bonnie," Emily said grinning like a Cheshire cat on happy pills, "yes or no."

"Well yes, I guess," Bonnie said shaking her head, "but it's a bit of a shock."

"You deserve it Bonnie," Emily said standing and holding out her hand, "Naomi told me you were good enough to take a step up and she was right; you were more than ready. I wish I'd seen it sooner myself because I'm not sure I would have survived this week without your hard work, like I say…you were wasted being my PA."

"Thank you," Bonnie said shaking Emily's hand across the table, "I'll do my best not to disappoint you."

"Keep doing what you're doing and you won't even come close. Well done on the AMT deal, now if you can do the same with the Freedom Group on the Bushmaster and the rest of the shopping list I'll be a very happy Fitch."

"I'm hoping to get an answer on that to you today Emily," Bonnie said standing, "and Fiona has been asking them about ammunition contracts as well, it looks quite promising I have to say, she's got quite a good deal on the table." Bonnie smiled as it was Emily's time to look a little shocked. "I've left the details in the sales file as usual."

"I'll take a look, thanks." Ems said recovering her composure. "Can you get everyone together for the eleven o'clock meeting? I'd like to make sure we're on top of things before I talk to daddy this afternoon."

"Of course I can, will there be anything else?"

Emily shook her head, and to my surprise Bonnie practically skipped over to the sofa where I was sat with my laptop and bent down next to me.

"Thank you Naomi," she said quietly, "I won't forget this."

"No problem," I replied, slightly embarrassed, "it's not like I did anything but state the obvious."

"Yes," she said giving me a hug and kissing me on the cheek, "but you stated it didn't you, thank you for that."

"Stop kissing my bodyguard or I might change my mind," Emily teased from where she sat, causing me to hug Bonnie back and stick my fingers up at her for good measure.

"Oh get out the pair of you, go and do some work and leave me to do mine or I'll be here until midnight," she laughed putting on her glasses and turning back to the screen. "Go on…shoo!"

"Yes Ma'am" I said saluting and grabbing my laptop, "whatever you say Ma'am."

All three of us were laughing as Bonnie and I abandoned the office, Emily gesturing at us wildly, shooing us out once more.

"You've really changed her you know?" Bonnie said as she sat down, "she never used to smile in work, let alone laugh."

"Well you've done your bit this week Bon," I told her, "I was really worried about her until she took charge of that lazy bunch of wankers and let you kick them about."

"Yes well, you give good advice; and I'm glad she listened to you."

"Me too."

o+o+o

After a quiet morning, swapping final details with JJ about the trip, I escorted Emily to the conference room for her weekly meeting with the sales team.

"You staying in?" Emily asked as she stacked her papers at the head of the table.

"Let me think about it…er no," I joked; my opinion on her team well known between us. As far as I was concerned they were lazy, ineffective and probably dishonest to boot. They'd been carried by Emily and a couple of others for years and I'm positive they hated me as much as they did her. "I think I'll wait outside as usual Miss Fitch," I added as two of the worst culprits for shoddy work oozed in, their snide looks and sotto voce comments along with them. "Safer for everyone that way."

"I understand," she said glaring at the pair of them, ending their amusement with one look, "you're probably right."

An hour into the meeting I was getting totally bored, one problem with Bonnie being more involved in these meetings was that I didn't even have the distraction of talking to her as she came and went. I busied myself as best I could with messages too and from the team, but even that didn't occupy me that much. There was only so much you could do on a tiny screen, and as I expected JJ had everything pretty much in hand.

I was halfway through an e-mail to Andy at the house when the phone erupted into life, the screen flashing an unknown number, vibrating away in my hand. I frowned as I spun it around and pressed the button to answer the call.

Close Protection, Naomi Campbell speaking," I said in the voice that still made me cringe, but I couldn't seemingly shift.

"Naomi dear, thank heavens. Is Emily with you?"

There was something wrong with the voice at the other end of the phone, something that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. There was a sound of relief and something else in Jenna Fitch's voice, something I didn't like.

"I'm afraid she's in a meeting Jenna, it's the Friday morning sales meeting, it's running on a bit because of next weeks trip and I doubt she's got her phone with her. I can get her to call you as soon as she comes out if you like?"

"I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to interrupt her Naomi," she said with a break in her voice. "I'm going to have to ask you to do something very difficult as well; she's going to need you soon Naomi, she's going to need you very much."

"What's happened Jenna," I said my heart sinking, "where are you?"

"I'm on my way to St Thomas' Hospital; Robert was admitted earlier with suspected heart attack."

"Is he ok?" I asked wondering how someone as fit and healthy as Rob Fitch appeared to be could suffer a heart attack; I guess it can happen to anyone.

"That's why I'm calling Naomi…they've only just got in touch with me…I'm afraid Robert died about ten minutes ago…"


	58. The Bearer of Bad News

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness, a heavy case of writers block, (every chapter is a struggle), and an ex I could still more than happily put in the Basement with Naomi, even now!

I still have nothing to do with Skins, but then do we care about Skins any more? We have our _own_ Skins…#OccupySkinsGen2 (thanks to the twitter folks for the correction).

**Authors Note: **Poor Rob, no one seems bothered he died, you all seem more bothered about what it will mean for Naomily….tch anyone would think he's not a popular character in this story.

Oh he's not is he? Thanks to Hawke for convincing me that this was the right way to go, I really am paranoid about things…it's nice to know this story is in such great hands (yes you too Martina).

Anyway, here's the follow up, enjoy.

**Chapter 58 – The Bearer of Bad News**

"_That's why I'm calling Naomi, they've just got in touch with me…I'm afraid Robert died about ten minutes ago…"_

I didn't say anything, my mind racing like crazy at the gravity of her words. Rob Fitch, dead…Jesus!

"Naomi, are you still there?"

"I'm here Jenna," I said softly, "please accept my condolences."

"Thank you Naomi, I appreciate that."

"Would you like me to tell Emily?" I asked, knowing that was why she was calling.

"No Naomi, but I'm afraid I may have to. I'd prefer to tell her myself, but she doesn't deserve to hear this like I did; not over the phone. It was bad enough that I heard it that way; that James had to..."

"I'll do it Jenna," I said sadly, "I know Emily and Rob weren't that close, but…"

"…but this will be hard on her Naomi, I want you know that; Emily spent most of her life searching for Rob's approval…"

"I understand Jenna," I said as her voice tailed off, "it's all right. Does Katie know?"

"She does, she's with me now. We're on the way to the hospital, we're just waiting for the helicopter to pick us up; James is making arrangements to fly down as we speak."

"Is that where you'd like me to take Emily? To the hospital?"

"I think that's the best thing to do Naomi, I think we all need to say goodbye. I'm really sorry to ask this of you Naomi, I know it's a huge burden to place on your shoulders."

"It's fine Jenna, don't concern yourself" I told her, trying to take at least that worry from her; after all it's not as if I'm unaccustomed to delivering bad news to people I love.

"No Naomi, it's really _not_ fine, I should be doing this myself I know; but I am glad you're there and I'm glad that Emily will hear this face to face from someone that cares for her. Look after my daughter for me will you please? I'll see you as soon as I can."

"I will Jenna, take care…if there's _anything_ I can do please let me know."

"You are already doing more than I should ask of you Naomi, thank you again."

Jenna hung up on me after that, there was nothing else for us to say, nothing more that needed to be said. I had to admire the strength she was demonstrating, thinking of her family above all things; I only hoped that Emily had inherited that same strength; she would probably need it.

I looked down at my phone thoughtfully, I needed to let Emily know, needed to interrupt this meeting in as diplomatic a manner as I could. Duty said that I needed to let Cook or JJ know about Rob's death, but honour said that Emily was my priority. I put the phone into my pocket with a sigh and prepared myself for what was to come; with a deep breath I knocked on the door to the conference room and twisted the handle.

All eyes were upon me as I stepped into the room; in an ideal world this would have been done discretely, however I had to break this party up right now.

"Excuse me Miss Fitch; I need a moment of your time," I said formally, "I'm afraid it's urgent."

"We're nearly finished here Miss Campbell," she replied, not looking happy at my interruption. "Can't it wait?"

I shook my head, "Mr Cook has an urgent call for you from one of our contacts in Baghdad, I'm afraid he's calling on a satellite phone and this is the only time he can do. It is quite important you speak to him ma'am, I wouldn't have interrupted otherwise."

I mentally crossed my fingers and hoped that she wouldn't question my hastily created story. To my relief she nodded and stacked the papers in front of her. "Right I'd better deal with this, I'll expect status reports from you all by the end of the afternoon," she said standing and tucking her paperwork under her arm. "Bonnie, Nigel, could you finish up here for me please?"

I held open the door as she walked past me, her air of professional distain fixed firmly in place, and followed her down the corridor to her office; actually thankful that she didn't seem to want to talk to me right then. As we approached her door she waited for me and smiled, our ritual of letting me 'sweep the room' before she went in well established by now.

"Fucking hell how many missed calls?" she said after I gestured her in, walking straight over to her desk and picking up her shiny new Blackberry from where she had left it. "Wonder what mum wants that's so urgent?"

"Emily," I said, crossing the room quickly as she pressed buttons on the keypad, "_Emily!_"

"What Naomi?" she said as she pressed the phone to her ear, quickly I ran around the desk and took the phone off her; hanging up on the call before Jenna answered.

"Fucks sake Naomi, what the hell is going on in your head? Give me my phone back, Cook can wait for two fucking seconds while I find out what mum wants."

"Emily, I lied about the phone call," I said placing the phone down on her desk and standing in front of her, "I haven't spoken to Cook, I needed to talk to you ok? I'm afraid I've got some news, please love…sit."

Emily looked at me strangely, sitting down as I suggested. "What's going on honey," she said her big eyes filled with doubts.

"I've just spoken to you mother love," I said kneeling down in front of her and taking her hands gently. "There's no easy way for me to do this," I said sighing, "Jenna told me that your father was admitted to St Thomas' Hospital this morning with a suspected heart attack…"

The colour drained from her face as I spoke, "Is…is he ok?" she interrupted her hands grabbing mine painfully. The moment had come, I'd had to tell my team about losing people before, had to tell loved ones about a friend's loss. They were all tough to do, more than tough, but nothing prepared me for what I had to do now; tell the woman I loved the most horrible news I could think of, tell her about the death of a parent.

Losing my mum had been the worst thing that had happened to me; waking up and finding that mum had passed in the night had left me with a hole in my life that hadn't ever been filled. Despite her contempt for her father and his actions, I knew what I was about to tell her would hurt her deeply. I knew from bitter personal experience that no matter how much you say you hate them, there's always love left for your parents; no matter how deeply it's buried.

"…is he going to be all right?" she continued, her hands still crushing mine, almost certainly suspecting that I wasn't the bearer of good tidings, perhaps hoping that he news I had wasn't as bad as she suspected.

"I'm so sorry Emily," I said finally, shattering her hopes with four little words. "Your mother told me that the hospital called her about fifteen minutes ago, he didn't make it my love, I'm so very, very sorry."

Emily stared at me for what felt like hours, her eyes searching my face for the signs of a sick joke, the signs that it wasn't the truth. I did my best to remain strong, as I watched her heart break in front of me, as I saw a single tear escape from her eye.

"Thank you Nomi," she said finally, taking a deep breath before releasing me and wiping the tear from her cheek with the back of her hand. "That can't have been easy for you honey, I appreciate you telling me personally."

"Your mum wanted to tell you herself love," I replied, "but she didn't want to do it over the phone, she wanted someone to tell you face to face."

"I understand babe, it's ok," she said sounding unnaturally calm. "I'll call her in a second; I assume she's on the way here?"

"To the hospital," I said sadly, "Jenna and Katie are flying over now; James is flying down from Uni as well. I said I'd take you to meet them."

"Um," she mused, "it'll have to wait for a bit, I've got far too much to do right now."

"You sure?" I asked softly, "It's not a problem you know."

"No, I'm sure…thank you Naomi, I'll need to make some arrangements here, there's people that will have to know, e-mails I'll have to send. I'd appreciate it if you didn't let this slip to anyone here."

"Naturally," I replied simply.

She patted me on the arm, my hands resting on her knees, "Thank you, I think the news would be better coming from me. I assume you'll need to talk to James, or JJ as well, let them know the news/"

"I will yes," I said standing, taking her words as a dismissal of sorts. "If you need me, you know where I am."

"I do, thanks Naomi," Emily replied picking up her phone once more and ignoring me. I made my way out into my office and sat down at my laptop, typing an e-mail to Cook as fast as my fingers could type. I'd got a strange look from Bonnie as I walked in from Emily's office, but I didn't say a word; it wasn't my place to tell her what was going on.

It wasn't just that though; I didn't feel like speaking because honestly I was more than a little bit worried about Emily. I didn't know how she was going to react to the news, but I knew that at some point she would; once she managed to break free of the numbing desolation that currently, understandably, seemed to be consuming her. I vowed, no matter what happened, I would be there for her, in any way she needed me to be. She could scream at me, cry on me, or kick the living crap out of me if it helped, it wouldn't matter, not to me. All I wanted was to help her in any way I could. I've seen grief enough times in my past to know that everyone reacts differently, to know that how you deal with the loss is a personal thing.

Whitey used to get loud and annoying, using his stupid sarcastic humour as a shield from the pain, trying to convince us all that it didn't matter. Chunks used to get angry, walking away from everyone and returning minutes later, his knuckles red and bruised. Grouch used to bottle it all up before exploding into a frenzy of barked orders, desperate to keep us all active so we didn't fall apart… Me? I did what I usually did, withdrew into my head and tried to shut it away. As a release I used to hit a pool, or a gym, or anywhere I could lose myself in the pain of exhaustion, somewhere I could just forget. After Paul died I'd done all of that and more, adding fucking my way to oblivion to the list, pushing the pain behind me in Amy's willing arms.

It was a little over half an hour later when Bonnie started to cry, the blip of her inbox that preceded it telling me that the news was now public. She looked up at me accusingly and I lowered my eyes, what else could I do?

"You've heard then?" I asked, getting a sniff and a nod in return.

"Is that why you interrupted the meeting?" she asked accusingly, her eyes red.

"Yes," I answered,

"It's horrible isn't it? Poor, poor Emily. How did she take it?"

"As well as can be expected," I said cryptically. "I think she wanted to make sure everyone knew as soon as possible."

"She's just sent an e-mail to all staff, a heart attack? But he was such a fit man, so healthy…it's unbelievable."

"Yeah," I agreed helplessly, "it's a terrible thing."

"I can't believe it…" she started to say before we were interrupted by the ringing of her phone. Quickly she answered it and sat in silence for a few minutes listening in; before waving across at me, flicking on her speaker phone.

"…and I need you all to organise meetings with our suppliers, customers and anyone else we have dealings with as soon as possible, we need to ensure that they know we are not a rudderless ship; we need to make it absolutely clear to everyone that Fitch Industries is business as usual. We are not losing a single fucking client over this and we're not losing out on future contracts either. Heads will fucking roll if you fuck this up people so let's make my father proud. Bonnie could you liaise with everyone and let me know what's going on?"

"I'll get right on that Emily," Bonnie said shaking her head at me sadly, concern filling her eyes.

"Miss Campbell are you there?"

"Right here Miss Fitch," I said speaking up so she could hear me.

"Good, I'm going to need you to take me to meet with my family in a bit, if that's convenient?"

"Of course it is Miss Fitch, I'm at your immediate disposal as usual."

"Good, thank you; I'm going to need ten minutes of your time as well when we're done here. I need to know how today's tragic news will impact on the trip to Iraq."

"Not a problem, I'll get some figures together now and let you know."

"Your best guess will do, I know this isn't something you and your team will have planned for…"

She continued to talk for the next five minutes, outlining her plan for her team and the heads of department that she had on the phone. Like a good soldier Emily had stepped up and took charge; the standard bearer might have fallen, but she had picked up the flag and was leading them forwards, I don't think I could have been more proud of her strength, and more concerned for her fortitude.

I continued to listen as I stepped back to my desk and started firing e-mails to the team at Head Office, asking how they thought the risks might change, and for an idea on an updated plan of attack. I didn't have a lot of real world information by the time her call ended, but my mind was made up on how we were going to do it; like she had said it was business as usual.

I grabbed my pencilled thoughts and a couple of e-mails from the risk analysis team at Close Protection and knocked on her door, getting a muffled 'come in' from inside. With a sympathetic smile from Bonnie I opened the door and stepped inside.

"Close the door Naomi," Emily said, not from her desk, but from the sofa in the corner where she was sat with her phone in her hand; "take a seat, please."

"I haven't got a full plan yet Emily," I said as I put my notes down on the table in front of her and sat down, "but I have had a think about the logistics of the trip…"

"Naomi?" Emily interrupted a slight quaver to her voice, "I don't give a flying fuck about the trip, I just…please…" I stopped speaking and looked at her, seeing her eyes full of unshed tears. Without thinking I opened my arms and she fell into me, sobbing violently, the floodgates well and truly broken. She didn't babble as she cried, didn't try to speak to me about anything at all; she simply cried her heart out until there was nothing left; and all I could do was hold her tight and try to reassure her.

I _don't_ do comforting people, I'm no _good_ at comforting people, I never have been; but for her I'll do my very best.

I sat on the sofa in the corner of her office and stroked her hair, muttering nonsense and telling her how much I loved her. I'd no idea if that was the right thing to do, but it seemed to work, seemed to calm her somewhat, seemed to do the job.

"Ems?" I ventured tentatively when she eventually stopped crying.

"I'm ok Nomi, I'll be ok…it's, it's just a bit of a shock you know? Could you…would you take me to see mum? Please?"

"Of course baby, I'll take you right now if that's what you want."

"Not just yet honey," she said holding me tightly as if she would never let me go, her voice breaking once more. "I think I need a few minutes first."

"Whatever you need love, whenever you're ready."

o+o+o

We got a few funny looks from the staff as I escorted Ems through the building, my arm wrapped protectively around her, her arm around my waist. I walked her down through the reception; my best sergeants face on, driving away all comers with a stern look and a hard glare.

Emily didn't need the false sympathy and platitudes that were likely to come from the employees of Fitch industries; later perhaps she would have to endure it, but definitely not now, not while I'm around anyway. It's my job to protect her from everyone and everything as I see fit; as genuine and well meaning as some of those people might have been.

We didn't bother taking my truck, opting instead for a taxi that Bonnie had called down to the main building receptionist to arrange for me. Driving was going to be somewhat difficult with my arms full of Fitch; and I wasn't letting go of my girl until she wanted me to. Not that it looked like that was going to be any time soon.

o+o+o

The journey to St Tommy's seemed to take hours as we crawled through the Friday lunchtime traffic jam over to the South Bank. Emily was curled up against me in the back of the cab, a veritable death grip on my arm. She hadn't said a word since asking me to take her to the hospital, presumably lost in her thoughts, or her memories.

"We're here babe," I told her as we pulled up outside the main entrance to the hospital. I'd only been here once before, heading for Accident and Emergency on a cold March night, trying to get a set of knuckles taped up, knuckles I'd damaged on a hefty Russian wannabe gangster. As I paid the cabbie and led Emily inside I realised that I didn't have a clue where to go or what to do.

"Er, excuse me," I said walking up to the desk marked 'Information'. "I wonder if you can help me."

"I can try," the elderly woman behind the desk said smiling, "what can I do for you?"

"We're looking for Robert Fitch," I said, "he was brought in this morning. This is his daughter and, er, well, we don't know what to do or where to go?"

"How so?" she asked patiently, staring at Emily.

"We were told that he died not longer after he was admitted," I said quietly, "that's all we really know. His wife is on her way with the rest of the family, unless she's already here, we're not really sure."

"I'll see what I can find out for you," she said sympathetically, "if you would like to follow me I'll take you somewhere you can wait."

Emily and I sat for what seemed like an eternity in the hospitals quiet room, its multicultural symbols and endless pamphlets the only decorations. Eventually the door opened and someone walked in.

"Hello, my names Adam," he said holding out the photocard on his lanyard and extending his hand to me. "I'm here to help you in any way I can at this difficult time. Can I ask…are you a relative?"

"I'm not," I said glancing at the girl in my arms, "but this is Mr Fitch's daughter Emily."

"Hello Emily, please accept my condolences at your loss," Adam said his voice soft and calming. He reminded me of our unit chaplain in Afghanistan, softly spoken and permanently calm; no matter what had happened. I guess Adam was just as useful, in his own way, as he spoke to Emily about what was going to happen; he was confident and reassuring and everything I _hadn't_ been when we arrived. As he chatted away my phone vibrated and I slipped away from Emily as gently as I could. Trying to be respectful I walked across the room, answered it, and heard Jenna's voice talking to someone before finally she spoke to me.

"Hello Naomi, where are you, are you at the hospital yet?"

"We're in the quiet room on the first floor Jenna," I said quietly. "There's someone with Emily now talking about things. I think they're waiting for you to arrive actually; he's asked her if she's the next of kin."

"Well we're here now dear, we'll be with you in a few minutes…stay strong for her Naomi."

"I will," I promised as she hung up, looking back at Emily who was staring at me quizzically. "Your mother," I told her, "she says she'll be here in a few minutes."

"and Katie?" she asked wiping her eyes again.

"I'm sure she's still with her babe," I said as I sat down on the plastic chair next to her; her hand finding mine insistently, "they'll be here very soon I'm sure."

They were as well; and it wasn't too long before I felt like a spare wheel, the family coming together as only families can at times of tragedy. Emily and Katie fell into each others arms the second she walked through the door and I was pushed firmly to one side as they shared their grief in their own way. It was nice to see them find solace in each other, sharing something special that they had lost and now, perhaps, had found.

"How are they holding up?" I asked Richard as we stood outside the room, allowing the Fitch's their grief in private.

"Mrs Fitch-Brace seems in a bad way," he said shaking his head, "Mrs Fitch is being brave I think, she's a very strong woman."

"That she is," I agreed, "that she most certainly is."

The rest of the day was lost in the process of dealing with the death. I was struggling a little as we went through the formal identification, Rob's body being laid out in the hospitals chapel of rest for the family to view. I'd excused myself from almost everything, much to my shame, the memories the process evoked were far too familiar, far too sharp, and far too painful.

The only 'bright' part of the day was that, like mum, there were no reported complications with the death; no need subject the family to the added pain and delay of an extended post mortem investigation. Rob had died of cardiac failure pure and simple, the tragic, senseless loss caused by a second massive heart attack. He was in the right place, but there was simply nothing anyone could have done; he was already weakened after the first attack we were told and the second was too much for his shattered body to take.

No crime, no terrorist act, no reason to be suspicious about it at all; it was nothing more than the failing of his own body and somehow that made it harder to take.

After the identification had been done, all that was left to be done was receive the paperwork and arrange for Rob's body to be collected by the funeral home and for the family to make their way from the hospital to somewhere less sterile, somewhere they could continue to grieve away from prying eyes.

The time for details was over, now it was the time for family; and, for the first time in a long time, and probably rightly, I wasn't included.

o+o+o

"How you holding up blondie," James Cook said as I sat on the street outside the flat, my arse planted on the step of the entrance, my back against the wall.

"I'm ok boss," I told him, "bit tired, it's been a bit of a shock for everyone you know?"

"It's terrible, how's the family doing?" Effy asked, handing the huge bunch of flowers in her arms to Cook.

"How do you think?" I replied as she snatched the cigarette from my lips and held it up in front of me.

"I imagine they're pretty fucked up and in need of their friends and loved ones around them, people like you. You quit remember?" she added throwing my unlit fag away, "What the hell are you doing out here?"

"Getting some air," I replied taking a breath, "that was my only one, I stole it off Richard."

"…and you thought you'd come out here and smoke it," she said angrily, dragging me to my feet. "Jesus Naomi, Emily deserves better than that, why aren't you in there with her?"

"No lighter," I said holding out my arms, and ignoring her question. "Search me if you like."

"What's going on blondie?" Cook said placing his hands on my arms and pressing them down firmly.

"The family are upstairs boss, Richard is with them right now, I'm on watch out here, trying to be inconspicuous; now if you'll excuse me," I said sitting down again, "I'll get back to the job you pay me for."

It was a half truth, Richard was on duty upstairs, but I wasn't really on watch down here. There was nothing really to watch out for. Still it was a convenient cover, a cover from what was really bothering me.

"How long have you been out here Naomi?" Effy asked as I settled down once more; shuffling myself against the brick wall until I was comfortable again. It was a comforting feeling, it was like old times, only I was better dressed, less well equipped, the weather was better, and so were the surroundings.

"What time is it?" I asked as I sat back in the sun, adjusting my aviators until they were comfortable.

"Half past two," she replied looking at her watch.

"What day?"

Effy and Cook shared a look before she spoke again, "Saturday Naomi, as you well know."

I shrugged, the rough brickwork scraping against my shirt as I did so, grazing my skin through the thin material. "A few hours," I told them.

"How many hours is a few Naomi," Effy pressed, keeping on at me like a dog with her favourite bone.

"Not many," I replied vaguely, "six or seven, maybe ten; fifteen at the most."

"Naomi" They both said, disappointment in their voices.

"Look there's fuck all room up there, the entire fucking family is in there and I'm making sure they're ok," I lied again. "They're a pretty tasty target right now and we need someone being the perimeter guard and for now that's me; now go on piss off before you blow my cover."

"What's your cover blondie?" Cook said, and I knew instantly that he didn't believe a word of what I had said.

"It's summertime boss," I said twisting my arms until the pale underarms showed; "I'm sunbathing…what does it look like?"

He laughed at my cheek and pulled Effy away from me, her face showing that she too was not convinced. I watched them walk to the lifts and press the button, quite obviously talking about me; their body language telling me all I needed to know. I didn't care; they could talk about me all they liked as long as they left me alone, I really wasn't in the mood to be sociable today…

Friday had been a difficult day for me, much to my surprise. I wasn't surprised it would be difficult…far from it, what I was surprised at was how hard Emily's rejection had been on me.

She hadn't meant it like that I know, she hadn't meant to blank me, to disregard me completely like chattel; but I wanted to help her, I wanted to be there for her. I knew the pain of the loss of a parent like no other person in that flat, yet they had closed off into family ranks and I was, once more, the hired help.

It hurt a little, more than a little in fact, but I was used to being hurt; I'd spent my whole life suffering that particular pain.

I think that it hurt a little bit more because for the first time in years, the first time since Whitey, I had let someone else deep into my life. Emily fucking Fitch had forced her way deep into my heart and set up camp there. I had let her pitch her tent and make herself comfortable, she had helped me through my own agony and, at the time when I wanted nothing more than to help her, to comfort her in her pain, she rejected me.

She cut me out of her life and replaced me with what she knew, replaced me with her sister and her brother and her mother; replaced me with the comfort of her family. I couldn't blame her, but it did hurt.

So I found myself here, sat on the streets once more. Now that the refuge of the army isn't there for me any more, when all goes to shit in my life, this is probably where I was destined to end up. Still, it was a constant; it was something that couldn't be taken away from me, not ever.

The streets were now a refuge from the things that hurt me, and I would always love, as well as hate, them for it.

Time rolled by, as it always does and I started to feel the slight pangs of hunger as I sat in front of the entrance to Emily's flat, resolute in my solitude. I did my best to ignore the hunger, to be honest it was an easy task, I'd been hungry so many times before. The two things that I remembered so clearly from my time on the streets were hunger and cold. I could ignore the one and I could fight against the other. I had fought against the cold all last night; sat where I was from late evening, through the early morning hours and into the today. Cold was ok though, as was the hunger, I could handle them both easily; I just couldn't handle the rest.

"I thought you might want something to drink?" Effy said as she appeared beside me, sitting on the step net to me and handing me a steaming mug. "Pretty messed up in there yes?"

I nodded, taking a sip of the piping hot cup of tea she had brought me, and savouring the taste, "so, why are you down here really Naomi?"

"No space up there," I said, "everyone's on top of one another now James has arrived and the family need their space right now."

"And you're feeling a bit left out?" she asked cutting straight to the chase. I simply shrugged by way of reply.

"You know I expected Katie to be a mess, but I never expected Emily to take it so hard," Effy said leaning her shoulder against me. "I never thought her and her father were that close."

"Makes sense to me," I told her shrugging once more.

"Care to explain?"

I sighed and shook my head; as much as I liked Effy I wasn't really in the mood for chatting, wasn't prepared to discuss Emily's unreciprocated love for her father.

"You need to go back upstairs Naomi," she said finally, after we'd sat in the bright afternoon sun for another few minutes. "Emily needs you." 

"Emily has her family Eff," I told her, "her family is what she needs right now. When she wants me she knows where I am."

"Hiding downstairs," she said accusingly, standing up and offering me her hand.

"If you want to think that yes," I replied, ignoring her hand and folding my arms.

"You're a stubborn fool sometimes Naomi," she said shaking her head. "I'll bring you some food down."

"I'm ok," I told her with a smile, lying once more. "Not much of an appetite today."

"I'll get you something anyway," she said walking away before I could reply again, vanishing into the building, and leaving me to think about her words in peace.

I sent a quick text upstairs to Cook, using the opportunity of his arrival as an opportunity to get away from the building without feeling guilty about reducing our security; suggesting that Richard take my place on perimeter duty. I got a single word as a reply and I knew instantly that Effy had his phone, 'whatever' not being a phrase I'd expect to hear from a Southern gent.

After one more lap of Emily's building, to reassure myself that all was still well, I made my way through the streets of St John's Wood to Regents Park or The Regent's Park as it was rightly named. I'd never been, though of course Emily had raved about it; being on her doorstep it was the place that she liked to go running, when she had time that was. I knew it was a good idea the moment I stepped through the gate and saw the faint gleam of the boating lake in front of me. I was contemplating a quick lap of that lake, convinced that a brisk walk around the water being just the thing to help clear my head; however as soon as I got to the far side of the bridges a better plan came to mind, the dappled shade of the trees in the distance seeming an attractive place for a bit of a rest.

The park was full of activity today, the warm weather bringing people out in their droves to play in the sun. Kids, couples, every man and his dog, quite literally, were out in force; kicking balls, throwing sticks or just lounging around sunbathing and listening to music.

Something I really wanted to do right now, lounge around and relax.

After a bit of a search I found myself a quiet bit of space under a tall tree, as far from the madding crowds as I could without losing the sun too much. As I sat down and snuggled back into the rough bark, I felt my body relax for the first time since that phone call; and, as weariness overtook me, I closed my eyes and allowed myself to sleep.

o+o+o

The sun was sinking low on the horizon when I finally woke, the buzzing of my phone intruding on a tormented dream; not my usual nightmare, but nothing especially pleasant either. I fumbled for the screen, eyes still struggling to focus, and pressed the button to answer.

"Hello," I said groggily, "Naomi Campbell speaking."

I wiped my eyes with my free hand and looked around me. The park was less crowded that it had been when I arrived; I could see more of the grass exposed as I blinked into the sunlight trying to clear my head.

"Nomi?" I heard, a tired and sad sounding voice ask, a hint of worry in there too.

"Emily?" I replied sitting up and blinking rapidly, "what's wrong?"

"Where are you?" she asked, her voice sounding, unsurprisingly, crushed.

"I'm in the park," I apologised, stating what I thought she would already know; my message to Cook being plain and simple. "I thought you knew."

"I need you babe, why aren't you here?"

"I'll be there before you know it love," I told her, on my feet and already running towards the flat.

"Hurry baby, please," she said and I could hear her crying as she spoke, comforting words being spoken next to her as the line went dead.

It had taken me ten minutes to walk to the park, and another five to get to my shady tree; I made it back to the flat in less than seven, breathing heavily as I pushed the key into the door. I'd barely taken two steps into the hallway when I was shoved up against the wall by an angry looking Katie Fitch-Brace.

"Where the fuck have you been bitch?" She shouted, shoving her face into mine her eyes flashing with rage.

"Outside," I replied as calmly as I could my heart still racing from the run here, my legs burning from my sprint up the stairs. I was trying to understand her position, emotions had, with good reason, been running high since they had all met up, and I'd bitten my lip more than once at shitty comments that had been directed my way; one more reason why I'd needed to take myself away from the situation; "where's Emily?"

"She's in her room," Katie snapped, "where you should fucking be…you're supposed to be her girlfriend aren't you?"

"I think you both made it perfectly clear _where_ I should be Katie," I replied holding back my hurt and frustration as best I could, watching her step back slightly as I did so. "I only did what you asked me to do; I gave you the space you said you needed, that's all."

Katie looked at me appraisingly; I could almost see the cogs turning over in her head, rerunning the conversation from the night before. It had been a fraught time when they told me to fuck off and leave them be. I didn't resent it, I knew how it was when you were upset like that; I'd pretty much said the same thing to the people that had constantly approached me after mum died, and I'd hated it when they didn't take me at their word.

It was only after I left the room, placing the pot of tea I'd brewed back into the kitchen that I realised how much her words had hurt, and I wondered how many people I'd hurt doing the same thing all those years ago.

"She's asking for you," Katie replied, not sounding quite so angry.

"I know," I told her, "I'm going now. Look, I'm sorry I wasn't here, but I thought you all needed to be together, and that you needed the space. How are _you_ doing Katie?"

"Shit," she said and I could see the pain replace the anger, "just like everyone else, but I'll be ok, at least Gareth is on his way for me now."

"I'm glad Katie," I said placing my hand on her arm. "If there's anything I can do for you, for any of you, just let me know ok?"

"Just look after Emily Naomi," she said grabbing me and hugging me tightly, "just look after my sister like you promised you would."

"I'll do that," I said hugging her back, my awkwardness returning, "I'll keep my promise, I'll do everything I need to do to keep her safe, whatever that means."

"Does it get any easier Naomi?" she asked with a sob, not needing to explain further her sudden exclamation. I thought about my answer carefully; wanting to lie to her, but knowing that it wouldn't be right or fair.

"No," I told her shaking my head, hating myself for telling the truth, "it doesn't; well, it hasn't for me anyway. I still miss my mum and there's not a day that goes by that I don't."

Katie let go of me and stepped backwards slightly, looking at me with eyes that reminded me of Emily's. I placed my hand on her shoulder, doing my best to be comforting, despite the bitter honesty. "It does get less painful though," I said knowing of what I spoke, "as time goes by the pain gets less; it never goes away, but it does diminish. You'll have good days and bad days along the way, but that's how it should be with loved ones I think; it stops you forgetting them, and that's what's important. It is to me anyway."

Katie nodded at me with tears in her eyes before stepping forward and hugging me tightly again, almost taking my breath away. We stood like that for a few seconds before she released me and pushed me away. "Go on then," she said tears running down her face, "you need to be somewhere else right now."

I nodded and walked down the hallway towards the bedroom, catching Cook and Effy's eyes as they stood in the kitchen and glancing back towards the Katie. Effy nodded as I stood outside Emily's bedroom and knocked on the door before entering; to my relief she had understood my veiled message and, as I opened the door, I saw her follow Katie into the living room, carrying two steaming mugs. Gareth may be on his way, but Katie needed a friend right now, she didn't deserve to be alone.

o+o+o

The bedroom was dark as I walked in, the light seeping in from the hallway behind me extinguished the second I closed the door. It took a few seconds for my eyes to adjust to the dim light, but in that short time I'd already walked over and sat next to the tiny figure that was sat on the bed with her arms wrapped tightly around her legs.

"Hey," I said softly, "you said you needed me."

"Yeah, where were you?"

"I was in the park love, getting some air. I'm sorry I was so long, I fell asleep under a tree…I didn't get much sleep last night."

"Me neither…I missed you Nomi, why did you leave last night, where did you go?"

"You told me to go love," I answered, trying to keep the hurt out of my voice, hoping she'd understand, "I wanted to give you the space you needed."

"Oh, yes," she replied rocking slightly, "I…we…I wasn't very nice to you last night Nomi, I'm sorry."

"Don't even think about it love," I told her quickly, placing an arm around her shoulders. "I knew what you meant, I've been there myself, I remember how it was. You needed your mum and Katie and James last night, I understood…I understand!"

'_Still hurt though'_, I thought a little selfishly and feeling ashamed the moment I thought it, _'it still fucking hurt.'_

"I fucking hated him you know?" Emily blurted out after an uncomfortable silence. "I hated him for so fucking long; he could never accept me for who I was. I fucking hated him for so many things but he was still my dad"

"I know," I said slipping my arm around her and rubbing her shoulder gently with my hand, pulling her towards me as I did so.

"All I ever wanted was for him to love me, love _me,_ not his fucking 'Sales Director'. All I ever asked for was that he give me a bit of credit now and again, treat me like he treated Katie; love me like he loved her."

She sniffed as she poured her heart out to me and I knew she was crying, despite the darkness.

"I'm never going to get that now am I? I worked so fucking hard to make him love me and it was never good enough; it was never _fucking_ good enough for him, _I _was never good enough for him."

"I know baby," I said soothingly, "I know; but he did love you, you know. I'm sure of it."

"How do you know that Nomi," she said her voice breaking, "you barely knew him, but even you knew what he was like."

"I did love," I admitted quietly, "at least, I saw a bit of what he was like when no-one else was around. I heard you arguing that night at the party; I was listening in on the cameras. Your mother gave him a mouthful for what he did to you and he didn't seem bothered at all, he really pissed me off that night but it doesn't change what I think love."

"He called me a whore Nomi; he called me a fucking whore because I died my hair and dressed up nice, dressed up to impress you. He wouldn't dream of saying that to Katie love, he wouldn't dream of saying that to his favourite fucking daughter. So how the fuck can you say that he loved me?"

"He told me you were his favourite daughter baby remember?" I said as soothingly as I could. "I know he was probably playing me, but he did say it; and besides, he gave you something he never gave Katie."

"What's that?"

"He gave you _me_ babe, and all those people like me. Look, as soon as those threats came in he wanted you protected. I read your file Ems, how many CPO's did you have before I came along? Every time you sacked one, or drove them away, he made sure that someone else was there to look after you; and he kept going until you had the best. He did that because he loved you Emily, he did that because all he wanted to do was keep you safe."

"You think so?" she said, her voice but a whisper.

"I know so," I replied, a little white lie that took the edge off the actual truth. I didn't know it for sure, but I at least suspected it. "I'm pretty sure he loved you Ems, he might not have showed it very well, but I'm sure he did, in his own fucked up way."

There was a long silence as she thought about my words, a long silence that was only broken by the sound of her tears. "Thanks honey," she said finally as I continued to stroke her arm, "that means a lot."

I didn't reply, I just stopped my stroking and squeezed her shoulders, relaxing my grip only when she rested her head on my chest, her hands still gripping her legs tightly.

"Nomi," she said after we sat there in silence for a few minutes more, "would you hold me properly please? I need you to hold me right now."

Her voice had broken entirely, and I could hear the grief pouring out of her. "Of course I will Ems," I said opening my arms as she finally let go of her legs, released her protective stance, and fell into me; "of course I will."

She buried her head into my chest, sobbing loudly, her hands flailing around, pummelling me relentlessly. I pulled her into me and winced as she finally wrapped her arms around me and squeezed me tightly, every ounce of her strength crushing her to me.

"I loved him Nomi," she sobbed, "I loved him so much, why couldn't he tell me that he loved me? Why couldn't he do that simple thing for me?"

"I have no idea Emily; I have no idea at all, but I can say it…I love you Emily, remember that; there are so many people who love you dearly, and a lot of them are here for you right now. We love you because you're wonderful Emily and I'm sure your dad knew that too."

I held her tightly in my arms as she cried, telling her the same thing over and over again until she sobbed herself out and long after that. As the faint light from the window faded, as the darkness of night drew in, I laid her exhausted body down onto the bed and wrapped her in the duvet; tucking her in carefully.

Hating myself for what I was about to do, I kissed her gently on the forehead, whispered 'I love you' into her ear and left her to sleep alone, closing the door quietly behind me as I left once more.

.

.

.

A/N: There you go Suzanne hun, have those East Enders style drum beats again (except not really)

Oh and as jamrockstar apparently giggled at getting mentioned the other week and has been very flattering I shall indulge myself again and say hello here! …and hello also to my mate Aimee who's first attempt at writing here was an awesome Halloween horror story, you rocked it kiddo, it was epic.

Finally get well soon Hawke (-:


	59. Funeral Rites

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness, a heavy case of writers block, (every chapter is a struggle), and an ex I could still more than happily put in the Basement with Naomi, even now!

I still have nothing to do with Skins, but then do we care about Skins any more? We have our _own_ Skins…#OccupySkinsGen2 (thanks to the twitter folks for the correction).

**Authors Note: **Day late and a dollar short, that's me. Sorry been having hell at work and a lot of problems with this chapter, still not happy with it, but short of deleting it and starting again, (breathe M, breathe), it's as done as it's going to be.

Happy Thanksgiving to the Septics, or whatever it is you guys say d-:

Enjoy, I'm winding down for a week off work now…see you whenever (-:

**Chapter 59 – Funeral Rites**

After a quick trip to the bathroom, for a much needed natural break and a clean up, I walked into the living room to see Gareth _'Captain Dickhead'_ Brace had arrived and was sat with his arms around Katie protectively. He nodded at me as I stood in the doorway before turning back to Katie, quietly talking to her as he cradled her limp form.

For the first time since I had met them I realised that they did actually work together, that the data that had been given to me in plain old black and white on my first day in the company was indeed true. Despite her flamboyance, her desire for fame and love of drama, Katie actually loved her husband; and, in turn, Gareth seemed to love her too. He may act like a self centred, arrogant, sexist prick most of the time, but when the chips were down I guess his true feelings shone through. For some reason that comforted me, knowing that Katie had someone who was there for her, I don't know why but it took a layer of pressure off my shoulders.

I looked around her tiny sitting room and saw Cook and Effy talking quietly with Jenna and James in the corner. I hadn't talked with either of them much, not since a very brief chat at the hospital. They were both holding up pretty well, considering the circumstances; both of them showing their inner strength.

"How's Emily?" Jenna asked spotting me finally, causing all the rest of the eyes in the room to look at me.

"She's fast asleep..finally," I said leaning tiredly against the door, all of the living room seats more than taken.

"Why aren't you with her?" Katie asked, glaring across at me and stirring stretching out her legs and shuffling around on the sofa.

"Needed the bathroom and I wanted to check up on a few things so I can actually relax," I told her gently, not wanting to provoke another fight. "She'll be ok Katie, I'm not going to leave her for very long."

"Right, see that you don't," she replied, this time without even a hint of aggression. Her message delivered she buried her head back into her husbands shoulder and closed her eyes once more.

Smiling I walked over to the corner where the others were sat and squatted down next to them.

"How are you holding up Jenna?" I asked staring into her tired looking eyes.

"I'm fine Naomi, just tired. There seems to be so much to sort out, even with all the help we're getting."

"I know, it seems endless doesn't it." I said shaking my head, "I felt the same way when my mum died, it seemed like there were a million hoops to jump through; is there anything I can do?" I added, getting a soft, almost affectionate look from her, before she shook her head and smiled.

"No Naomi, nothing more than you already are; protecting my family and looking after my daughter. That's the most important thing to me right now, as long as you can do that then you'll more than help me, it's one less thing for me to worry about if you know what I mean."

I nodded my understanding, patting her on the knee awkwardly; there was nothing else that needed saying about that. I turned to Cook and inclined my head, gesturing at the kitchen.

"Excuse me a second please Jenna," I said standing. "I need a word with James about the security for the flat."

"Don't worry too much Naomi," she said shaking her head. "We've all agreed that we'll be going home tomorrow morning. Robert left a notice with his solicitor asking to be buried in our local church; and I intend to honour that wish. Plus there are people who will want to pay their respects and that's better done at home, not in some cold building."

She looked across at Katie, who was looking at us from where she lay in Gareth's arms, and smiled sadly; "we may have had our differences, Robert and I, but he's still my husband and he deserves better than that."

Her voice settled with some force, as if she was waiting for someone in the room to challenge her, to call her out on her thoughts about what Rob deserved. If anyone there thought it, no-one was voicing those thoughts; and I suppose rightly so.

"Jenna has arranged for the family to fly back to the house Naomi," Cook said, "I know that won't exactly make you happy but…"

"I'll be fine boss, don't worry," I said quickly, trying to make little of my little phobia; unfortunately someone was a bit sharper than I'd hoped.

"What's this?" James Fitch said, eyeing me with a raised eye and an amused look. Of all the Fitch's, James seemed the least affected by his father's death; that wasn't to say he wasn't affected but he didn't seem to be as upset as everyone else. I supposed that his extremely estranged relationship with Rob was something deeper than just a teenager's attempt at rebellion.

"Naomi doesn't like flying James," Jenna replied, placing her hand on his shoulder. "Naomi if it wasn't for Emily I'd not ask you to do this, Emily told me about your little phobia when I suggested it; but I know you won't leave her and she wants to come home with us."

"You were absolutely right Jenna," I replied, ignoring the smirk from James. "on all counts; I take it we're flying from the heliport again?"

"You are," Cook said looking across at Jenna as if for confirmation. "JJ is already on his way and I'll be following you all on Monday."

"Monday?" I asked looking across at him puzzled.

"The funeral will be on Wednesday Naomi," Jenna said sniffing lightly. I've already arranged everything. James and Elizabeth will be arriving on Monday as our guests…"

"…and to work out the security for the event," Cook said, sounding a little embarrassed. "without wanting to seem tasteless Jenna, I do think I need to discuss this with Naomi; if you'll excuse us?"

"Of course James, thank you…" Jenna said with a smile.

"…put the kettle on darling," Effy added as James stood and gestured towards the kitchen.

"What a good idea, Jenna said with a weak smile. "I think a cup of tea would be wonderful right now."

I sighed as I put on the kettle, busying myself with the teapot while James hunted through cupboards in the tiny kitchen for cups.

"How is this going to affect us boss?" I asked quietly, finally voicing the question that had been running through my head since the lonely early hours of the morning outside the flat.

"How do you mean Naomi, with the job?" Cook replied his voice low as well, realising the need not to be overheard by the family. I nodded in reply, pouring the boiled water into the teapot. "It doesn't affect us in that way Naomi, as far as we're concerned it's business as usual. I had a firm contact with the company, not Rob, his passing won't affect that."

"I see," I said nodding again, "what is it you wanted to discuss about the security arrangements for the funeral then?"

"Absolutely nothing," he replied shaking his head. "You let JJ and me worry about them Naomi, I wanted to remind you that you've got a more important job to do right now."

"What's that?" I asked as I filled the milk jug and put the small sugar bowl onto a tray with the cups and the pot. Cook smiled and nodded towards the hallway. I turned around, seeing nothing but the empty hallway; then I heard the toilet flush and seconds later a mussy haired redhead appeared, looking at me through bleary eyes.

"Hey," I said as she walked into the kitchen, "I thought you were asleep."

"I was," she replied pushing herself into me and wrapping her arms around my waist; "but I needed the loo."

"I heard," I said as I put my arms around her and hugged her tightly. "Would you like a cup of tea?"

"Is it the normal stuff, or my special brew?" she asked, causing Cook's eyebrows to raise appraisingly.

"If you want your special brew love I'll make it for you," I said kissing her forehead.

"I'll take this through before it goes cold then," Cook said lifting the tray carefully.

"Not so fast," I said reaching around Emily and pointing to a cupboard, "get me the box out of there please boss, and the china cup that's next to it."

"Camomile, Fennel & Liquorice," he read, staring at the box in disgust as I flicked the kettle on again; "sounds pretty disgusting if you ask me, what on earth made you try that ladies?"

"It came in a sampler," I told him frowning, "and Emily has developed quite a taste for it."

"It's actually quite nice James," Emily said as I shook my head, her arms firmly wrapped around my waist, making the brewing of her herbal tea somewhat more awkward. "It also helps me sleep."

"Well I guess it's each to their own Miss Emily," he said with a wink as I shook my head once again. "I'll take this through now, if it's ok with you _chef_," he added tipping his head to me. I nodded as I poured the boiling water onto Emily's special tea bag; stirring it with a spoon as Cook took his cue and vanished, tray in hand.

I got a smile as I handed Emily the freshly brewed mug, her hands finally releasing me and wrapping themselves around the cup instead. As she took a sip she sighed and looked at me seriously.

"Where did you go baby," she asked, the accusation clear in her voice, "I woke up and you weren't there."

"I needed the bathroom love," I said, telling her the half truth. "Then I wanted to make sure everything was ok."

"By making tea?" she said, this time the accusation clear.

"I needed to talk to Cook," I answered apologetically; "there's a lot we need to sort out to keep you all safe right now."

"…and?" Emily asked burying her face into her cup once more, avoiding eye contact.

"…and he's just basically told me to fuck off; I have my orders babe, I'm to do nothing but stick by your side."

"Did you really need him to tell you that Naomi," she said and I knew the hurt was there. Quickly I snatched the cup from her hands and put it on the side, dragging her into my arms.

"Of course not," I said as her hands tentatively wrapped themselves around me. "He didn't say a word actually, but if he'd have told me otherwise I'd have quit, you know that. The only time I won't be by your side is when you don't want me there."

"Like yesterday?"

"Like yesterday," I said kissing the top of her head once more.

"I'm sorry about that," she said as she burrowed into my arms her tea forgotten.

"Shhhh," I whispered, stroking her back soothingly, "I told you, I understand everything. I really do."

"Don't let me hurt you Naomi," she cried into me, "I know I'm a bit fucked up right now, but don't let that come between us, don't let me fuck this up."

I patted her soothingly, hoping that she would understand before gently pushing her away and looking into her eyes; telling her a story in one look. "Come on you," I told her finally, "it's time you were back in bed, you look shattered."

"Will you stay with me?" she asked, almost pleading with me as her brown eyes bored into mine.

"Try and stop me, "I said taking her hand and squeezing her fingers as hard as I could without hurting her. "Bathroom breaks notwithstanding that is; come on, let's go back to bed."

She let me lead her back to the bedroom without protest and I tucked her into bed for what I hoped would be the last time that day. As I snuggled up behind her, pulling her tiny frame into mine I planted a kiss at the nape of her neck as she placed her hands on mine.

"Thank you for being here Nomi," she said as she leaned back into me, "it makes me feel good that you're here with me tonight. I'm sorry about yesterday"

"You're welcome baby," I whispered as her breathing settled down once more, ignoring her apology; "where else would I be right now?" It's not as if you haven't been there for me when I need you, it's my turn now."

"I love you Nomi," she said her thumbs stroking my hands as I held her tight.

"I love you too Emily," I told her kissing her neck just once more.

"I know you do," she replied, her words slowing as sleep overtook her once more.

"Yeah, well don't you forget it," I ordered her, suspecting she wouldn't hear, the soft snoring telling me all I needed to know.

o+o+o

The next morning found me waking up alone in our bed, Emily nowhere to be seen; as I looked at my watch I realised it was late, far too late really.

I hadn't slept well last night, my afternoon nap, and general fears making it difficult to drift off easily. It wasn't an excuse; I hadn't slept in beyond ten hundred hours since I was a teenager, not even when I was on night duty back in the Army.

Rolling out of bed and stretching, I grabbed my bath robe from the back of the door and pulled it on; heading for the door as fast as I could. As I walked into the hallway I heard voices from the living room and walked in rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

"Good morning Naomi," James Fitch said from his spot on the sofa where he was covered in a blanket, a cup of tea in his hand.

"Morning baby," Emily added from where she was sitting opposite her brother, sounding brighter than she had the day before. "Would you like a cup?"

I nodded as I sat down next to her, accepting the kiss and the cup she poured gratefully. As I sipped I wondered where everyone was.

"Mum's still in the spare room, James and Effy took Captain Stupid and Katie home last night and we're here; that's all of us hun."

"Where's Richard? I asked suddenly, realising that we were thin on the ground security wise.

"Cook sent him to a hotel," James Fitch interrupted yawning loudly. "Simon's in reception watching the front door and Cook's arranged for a few guys to sit outside on shifts in cars. He left you that…"

He gestured at a miniature radio pack like the ones that we used at Fitch Manor and I reached for it, only to have my hand stayed.

"Cook said you were only to use it if it was absolutely necessary," James said as he released my hand. "He told me to remind you that you have more important duties right now, whatever that means."

"Put it on Naomi," Emily said, "you know you won't feel comfortable without it."

"No," I said reaching past James' block to grab the radio and tuck it into the pocket of my robe, "Cook's right, I'll use it if I need it, the others are more than good enough to look after things without me now the LT's took charge."

I leaned back onto the sofa and slipped an arm around Emily as she settled back into me. "He's also right about me having more important things to worry about; how did you sleep love?"

"Ok, I woke up a few times…but I managed to drop off again."

I knew that, practically every time she'd fidgeted in her sleep I'd woken up, when I'd finally got to sleep that was. I had no idea how I'd missed her getting up; I could only assume that I was well away, exhaustion probably getting to me again.

"I slept well too Naomi," James said tipping his cup to me, "thanks for asking."

"Please to hear it, for both of you," I said as I drained my cup and sighed happily. "Have you eaten or would you like me to make something?"

"We've not got much in baby; I had a look when I made the tea."

"Well leave it with me," I said standing up and lifting the tray, "I'm sure I can come up with something. More tea?"

"Please," Jenna's voice said from the doorway, "or coffee if any is going."

"I'm sure I can rustle some up," I told her smiling, breakfast too?"

"That would be lovely, thank you Naomi."

I nodded at her as she sat next to her daughter and ventured into the kitchen. One search of the cupboards and fridge later and I had a plan in place, as well as an earpiece, and ten minutes later I was serving up tea, coffee, and filled omelettes with a load of freshly buttered toast.

"It's not much," I apologised as they tucked into the beans, cheese and ham omelette like starving folks, "but as Emily said we don't have a lot in."

"That was lovely Naomi, thank you," Jenna said clapping me on the shoulder as she pushed away her plate. "Emily dear, you should marry this woman as soon as you can, don't let someone that can cook a breakfast like this from almost nothing escape you."

"This is nothing mum," Emily replied smiling at me fondly as she wolfed down the rest her breakfast. "Naomi's actually a really good cook; I wish I had a bigger kitchen here that she could show off in..."

I didn't add to their discussion, choosing to chew on a piece of toast instead. It was a little bit surreal actually, sitting eating breakfast on a Sunday morning as if nothing had happened. I wasn't sure if they were just being brave, coming to terms with their loss, or what; but I knew it wasn't for me to comment. They could deal with their grief in any way they saw fit, it was my job to be there for them, all of them; not just my Emily.

I would do the best by them, no matter what it took, and no matter how much it cost me; that's how it was.

o+o+o

Wednesday came around far too quickly, the days flying by in a flurry of preparations, for both the Fitch's and for us. There was so much to do, even with Emily's trip to Iraq taking a back seat; not cancelled of course, that would never do for Emily flaming Fitch; but she had arranged for a deputation to go over with her personal apologies, and a promise that as soon as it was decent to do so she would come over in person.

Frankly it was a relief, but even with the removal of that personal pressure there were still things to be done. We had to put together a team to brief and escort the sales party, we had to make arrangements for the house, expanding the security because of the possible threat; and we had to organise security checks on the people that wanted to visit to pay their respects to Rob, who had been laid out in classic style in the morning room dressed in his Sunday best.

It was like a scene from a period drama as friends and family arrived to be received by Jenna and James as heads of the household. It was a very tough time for everyone, and the strain was starting to show.

On all of us.

The second hardest thing for me was keeping myself out of the loop; I had, at Cook's insistence, allowed JJ to take total command of the situation, taking a back seat for the first time in a long time. It was totally unnecessary as well, because the hardest thing I faced was Emily retreating once again into the safety blanket that was her family. As the funeral approached we became more and more distant, barely speaking at all unless necessary; rarely touching each other, even in bed.

Our situation hadn't been helped by the necessary re-emergence of Miss Naomi Campbell, CPO to Miss Emily Fitch. Despite the main reason to keep our relationship on the Q.T having gone, we'd agreed that it was, at least for now, completely necessary, in the face of adversity image was everything, and the Ficth family would not show weakness in front of their 'friends', let alone their 'enemies'.

"He's a shit," Katie whispered to me as another unfamiliar face walked into the morning room, chest puffed out acting the 'big I am'.

"How so," I whispered back as the grey haired man shook hands with Jenna and stepped up to look into Rob's open coffin, a sad frown on his bowed head.

"He fucking hated daddy and daddy hated him just as much. They were massive competitors; we were always beating him to the big deals and he fucking hated it. If I had my way he'd not be here at all, but we've got appearances to keep you know?"

"I know," I replied chancing a covert glance at Emily who was stood by her mother.

"You'll be ok, you two you know," Katie said so quietly that even I barely heard her, "it's just how she is, how she deals with things. She was like this after that Melanie bitch at university, totally locked herself away. But this time she has you, it just might take her a while to remember again."

"I thought she was doing better," I said sadly, "I thought we were doing ok, then we came here and…"

"…and it all became real for her again. She's never really been happy here; her flat has always been her little sanctuary, ever since she bought it."

"Rob said that he bought it," I said reminded of his words from when he had ordered Emily to let me stay.

"Yeah, he would say that, Emily bought it with a bonus she got for one of her first big deals."

"It must have been a pretty big deal," I whispered, wondering just how much that flat had cost and coming up with a very big number.

"You have _no_ idea," she replied shaking her head, "Emily pretty much set the company on its feet with it, she got enough to get a big chunk of the flat paid off. I didn't do a massive amount, Emily drove the whole thing, but even I got enough for two _very_ nice cars for me and Gaz out of what we made."

"Impressive," I said looking at my girl, wondering if it was totally inappropriate to think she looked really hot in the dark suit she was wearing; and deciding it probably was.

"Yeah, well she still couldn't have done it without me," Katie said with a smile, "I'm pretty good at flowering things up and making people happy; she's really good at getting people to sign on the dotted line. We were a good team back then, didn't last though."

I didn't reply, partly because more people had arrived and my earpiece was going bananas, and partly because I didn't really want to know her side of the story. Emily had told me all about how their relationship had degenerated, and I'd more than seen the evidence for myself. Katie was pretty much harmless, and she did mean well, but her selfish nature often made her hurt the people around her; and unfortunately for Emily she was often the victim of that selfishness, especially when it had come to her relationship with Rob.

After another half an hour of guests arriving, Jenna nodded across at me and, as arranged, I closed the heavy double doors now that everyone had taken their seats.

"Good morning everyone, I thank you all for coming," Jenna said standing alone at the front of the room. "I know Robert would appreciate that so many friends, and indeed rivals, coming along to see him off. I know it would put a very large smile on his face to see you all here."

There were a few smiles and nods as Jenna began her eulogy, recounting Rob's many successes as a businessman as well as a husband and father. From my conversations with Emily and Jenna I wondered who she had actually based her tale on, because none of it sounded like the Robert Fitch either of them had told me about; or indeed the one I had met.

Still it seemed to go down well amongst the old guard, an old guard that according to the voice of James Cook in my ear were circling Fitch Industries like vultures, hoping to tear strips off the business, big fucking strips in fact. Unfortunately for them what they hadn't banked on was one Jenna Fitch.

"So, with Robert's memory firmly in my heart I have to make an announcement today," she said with a strength in her voice that surprised even me. "As from tomorrow I will be taking charge of Fitch Industries as CEO in my husbands place. Robert was quite insistent that the company stay a family led one."

Despite the solemnity of the event there were a few mutters at her words. "Those of you that know me," she continued, "will remember that I was an integral part of the business in the early days and will know that I've had an awful lot of input into its running by Robert's side over the years, despite my recent break. However, I will not be on my own in running the company, and with my daughters by my side I know Fitch Industries will go from strength to strength; continuing the legacy that my dear husband and I started all those years ago."

Right on their cue, Emily and Katie walked up to their mother, standing either side of her in a dramatic show of family support; in my ear I could hear Cook chortling away.

"Oh I tell you blondie, there are men in that room that would happily kill those three right now. Jenna really knows how to turn a tragedy into a triumph."

I looked up at the camera, tilted my head slightly and blipped the mic switch that was resting in my hand to get his attention.

"Not literally Naomi," he laughed, getting my meaning; "look at Harrison, third in second row; he looks like he could throttle Jenna right where she stands. I think that lady there has just put a spanner in all his fine plans of a hostile takeover."

I nodded very slightly, hoping no-one would notice and blipped the button once more, surveying the people in the room a little more carefully as I thought about Cook's words. I didn't think there was a present danger, but there was no harm in checking out the reactions of people just in case.

Jenna spoke for a little bit longer, before handing the floor over to the twins and James to speak, after that came some friends and colleagues before the floor was opened to anyone else that wanted to add to the event, share there memories of Rob. Finally, the speeches came to an end and Jenna stepped forward for the final time.

"Thank you for your thoughts everyone, and for all of your kind words. I know I, and my family, appreciate every sentiment and take comfort in the knowledge of how dearly loved Robert was. I'm sure I speak for all of us when I say that it will help each of us deal with our loss. Now, if I could invite you to step through to the dining room for refreshments, my family and I would like some private time with dear Robert before we depart for the private funeral. I thank you all again for coming and hope to see you late when we return."

Jenna gestured to me and I opened the other set of doors at the back of the room. I had subtly moved to the back of the room as the speeches were being given, Jenna's choreographing of the event working perfectly. In the dining room there were other members of CP as well as a catering team with drinks and huge plates of food. Once the last guest had passed by, their final words to the family complete, I closed the doors behind them and stood with my back to them; ensuring that they stayed closed, the families privacy protected by my back.

"Thank heavens for that," Jenna said as she dragged her children into a hug, "I thought that would never end…shall we?"

They gathered around the foot of the coffin, arms wrapped around each other. I stood at the back of the room and watched as they shared their grief together, in their own personal way. After a long moment they stepped away and Jenna gestured to me once more.

"Send them in Boss," I sent over the radio, as I walked to the hallway door, "the family is coming out now."

"The vehicles are ready Naomi," Cook sent back, "guests are secure hallways are clear through, bring them out when you're ready."

As I opened the door and stepped out, doing my own personal checks as normal, taking nothing to chance; seeing nothing suspicious I gestured for the family to step into the hallway for the first part of the journey to the funeral proper. Cook and JJ had arranged to drive the family to the local church in our vehicles; the security we had arranged necessarily heavy. We were a huge and obvious target, and there was no way I was losing another package, not again, not that I counted Rob as a loss, not anymore.

We'd had our own little inquest after Rob's death, a very late night conference call when everyone else was asleep. Somehow Cook had obtained the Doctors report and it confirmed the initial diagnosis, acute heart failure. I knew, from the CPO that had been with him that night, that Rob had not been in the hotel room alone; that he'd been having a romantic night away with his PA, Alison. The thing was we knew he was ok immediately after she left, and that our guy was with him moments before he collapsed. We'd done everything that we could to get him to the hospital, in fact the only problem we had as far as I was concerned was that I'd heard about it from Jenna, and not from my people; a point I had made loudly and angrily. In the end though there was nothing any of us could have done to change events; Rob had, to all intents and purposes, fucked himself to death, I knew of a lot worse ways in which you could go.

As I escorted the Fitch's down the hallway to the front doors, I saw Andy leading the people from the funeral home into the morning room from the other end, presumably to finish boxing up Rob and to transfer him to the hearse that would take him on his final journey. To my surprise Rob had requested a quiet private ceremony, limited to family only; well family, and their assorted hangers on, like me. Alison was, by mutual agreement, not present; although she had impressed me with her genuine affection and grief when she had visited earlier.

The timings had to be carefully done, we were to wait in the hallway until the coffin was brought out and carried to the hearse, and then we would follow behind, the family split into the separate vehicles for added security. I'd insisted on this, much to Emily's disgust; though what she didn't know was that we'd intercepted more hate mail and at least three credible threats to the family's safety, so credible even MI5 were finally taking an interest.

I was concerned for their safety, concerned for _Emily's_ safety; and, after Cook had carefully explained the reasons everything carefully to them all, avoiding the nasty details of course, they'd all agreed.

Emily included.

We lined up along the wall as the coffin was brought out; the lid closed, Rob sealed away for his final journey. As if from an unspoken order, like a well drilled parade, heads were lowered from family and staff alike as the coffin was carried past us and out to the car; the family turning to follow along behind.

As we walked out into the sun I slipped on my sunglasses and escorted the twins and Jenna to my car; James and Gareth travelling with JJ in his big black X5. With grave formality the funeral director, who had been sitting in the passenger seat of the hearse, stepped out and walked to the front of the vehicle, cane in hand and donned his top hat. Solemnly he began a familiar slow march and led the procession down the driveway to the road; as we reached the gates he turned towards the cortege and doffed his hat. The formal escort complete, he walked back to the hearse and climbed back in; as he closed the door I gave the order for the gates to be opened and we were on our way once more.

o+o+o

The church we pulled up at could have been taken straight from a picture postcard; a tiny stone building with a slate roof and a tall square tower at the west end. It was surrounded by a small, neat graveyard, the aged memorials covered with the dirt and moss of ages past. Everything about it was quintessentially English, even down to the broad oak tree that reminded me of my own mothers resting place.

The family filed into the small building, following the coffin and pausing respectfully before they took their seats on the wooden pews that filled the nave. I felt distinctly uncomfortable in my black suit sitting next to Gareth on the row behind them, really feeling like I was intruding. Apart from myself, there was no-one else from the company sitting with the family. James and Effy were seated a few rows behind us and JJ was stood at the back of the church; he wasn't there as a guest though, he was on duty overseeing events. Security was even tighter here than at the house, despite our checks there are always uncertainties with unfamiliar ground and the LT was not a man to take chances; I'd taught him well.

There were no more speeches at this ceremony, not from the family anyway. Only the local chaplain spoke through the whole affair taking us through something that was very familiar to me; very familiar indeed. We hadn't had the actual burials when we were on tour, but the sentiment and the message he was delivering actually made my spine tingle with the memories it evoked. Mum's funeral had been, at her specific request, totally non –denominational; her beliefs being varied and as disparate as she was herself, a hodge-podge of things that worked for her, even if everyone looked at her in distain.

Mum didn't care that people sneered because she wouldn't allow herself to be labelled; in fact she was fiercely proud of it. She was proud of the fact that her "religion" preached nothing but love, celebrated nothing but being nice to other people. I hadn't understood her for such a long time, but when I got it, when I finally tuned in to what she was saying, I was proud of it too.

I tuned out the sound of the sermon, caught up in my own thoughts, my own memories. It seemed to me that I'd spent most of my adult life at some sort of funeral service or another; and here I was again, sitting in silence as someone's life was celebrated at the time of their death. It was a disturbing thought really, being surrounded by so much death so young; I used to think it was an occupational habit, looks like it hasn't gone away.

Perhaps I am a fucking Jonah… perhaps I just think too much.

o+o+o

The afternoon sun was high as they laid Robert Fitch to rest in the dark Somerset soil; a temporary marker placed at the head to mark the grave. To everyone's surprise Rob had left very specific instructions about not only where he wanted to be buried, but the entire funeral arrangements, right down to the suit he wanted to wear and the type of marker he wanted. It didn't surprise me that his choice of gravestone would be large and expensive, it fitted the man perfectly; even in death he would remain larger than life.

What did surprise me was that, despite the size of the block of granite and marble that he had requested, it sounded tasteful and totally in keeping with the surroundings in which he would lie. Not for Rob was something loud and ostentatious, his final resting place would be marked with something that you would expect for the self styled Lord of the Manor; a monument that would cover his grave into eternity.

There was a slight tug on my arm as the coffin was lowered into the ground, a tentative hand reaching out for my own. As our fingers entwined I felt a bewildering sense of relief; I couldn't explain it, but for the first time that day I felt like all was well in my little world. Emily and I stood side by side as the chaplain said those famous final words over the grave, shoulder to shoulder against the world; she slipped away from me just once more, but only to bend down and pick up a handful of dirt to drop into the grave. I heard the rattle as it struck the lid of the coffin and watched helplessly as she stood there, hand still open and stared into the hole. With a sense of foreboding I saw her shoulders start shaking as she stared and sure enough there were tears streaming down her face as she turned away from the grave and ran towards me, burying her face in my chest. I held her tightly as she cried, catching Jenna's sympathetic eye as she slowly walked away; the funeral was over, it was time to go home.

o+o+o

"You ok there?" I asked a silent Emily as we sat, side by side, on the balcony of my room, a tray of food left untouched on the table behind us.

"Getting there babe," she replied, "sort of, bit confused really."

I looked over at her, sat with her feet on the metal bars of the balcony guard rail staring out into the evening sunset; I reached out and placed my hand on hers, squeezing gently, hoping she would continue.

"I mean," she continued turning her hand over and grabbing mine tightly, "How the fuck am I supposed to feel right now? upset, sad, relieved maybe?"

"I don't know Ems, how _do_ you feel?" I asked, as unhelpful as ever, my inability to empathise coming to the fore once more.

"Numb I think, like it hasn't sunk in properly...but mostly guilty I think, is that normal?"

I took a deep breath and stared out over the gardens, trying to collect my thoughts. I knew all to well the feeling of guilt, knew it like an old friend; despite Joanna's attempts to convince me that it was all unnecessary.

"I don't know love," I told her closing my eyes.

"How did you feel," she asked suddenly, "after you lost your mum?"

"Confused," I admitted thinking back to those awful times, "I guess I didn't know how to feel."

"Yeah," she said her finger nails tracing patterns into my palm, "were you angry too?"

"Only a little," I told her, deciding to share just a little more. "Mostly I felt bad because I was relieved it was over for her; she had been in so much pain at the end."

"I understand about that Nomi," she said sympathetically, "that makes perfect sense to me. The thing is; _I_ feel bad because there's a tiny part of me that's actually glad he won't be there to judge me anymore, that he can't interfere with the way I live my life."

"How so?" I asked, wondering if she might finally tell me what I suspected about her father.

"How didn't he?" she said bitterly, her nails digging into me painfully as she spoke. "He butted into my fucking life at every opportunity, never let me do anything _I_ wanted to do, never let me be me, never wanted to understand who I was at all. All dad ever wanted to do was tell me who I _should_ be, who _he_ thought I should be that is..."

"Hey," I said grabbing at her hand before she dug her way through to the bone, feeling a slight trickle of blood flow as I did so; "it's ok love, it's all ok…"

"I've lost so much time trying to please him Nomi," she said with a voice thick with unshed tears; "so much time I'm not going to get back now, so much I've missed out on…and for what?"

We sat in silence for a while; I didn't have anything to add to what she'd said, didn't have an answer for her question. Every loss I'd suffered I'd mourned the _lack_ of time that I'd had with that person; mum, Whitey, it seemed that just as I found someone, as soon as we'd really connected, I lost them. Emily though seemed to be mourning not her father, but her life; or rather the life that she had lost at his hands.

"Did I ever tell you about what he said when I told him I wanted to try and sell my paintings?" Emily said finally, her foot tapping against the railing making it shake under the blows.

"Not really," I replied thinking back carefully. She'd told me a lot of it, but she obviously wanted to get something specific off her chest,

"He told me I didn't have the talent to sell anything I had ever painted, basically told me I couldn't give them away. Said I should concentrate on doing what I was good at."

"…and that was?" I asked pretty much knowing what the answer was going to be.

"Selling his fucking guns," she replied fixing me with an old fashioned look.

"Well he was right," I told her firmly getting a look and an extra tight squeeze of the hand for my trouble. "You _are_ good at selling guns Emily, more than good at it in fact, but he was wrong about the painting; I told you, I might not know much but I think you're good at that too, very good in fact."

"Thank you," she said lifting my knuckles to her lips and kissing them tenderly; "and thank you for this week Naomi, I'm sorry that we spent so much of it hiding."

"It was our decision Ems," I replied comfortingly, well my attempt at it anyway.

"No," she said kissing my hand once more, "we both know it was my decision and my decision alone, I'm sorry I cut you out so much, I've been a bit of a bitch to you this week and I really regret that."

"It's ok Ems…"

"…no Nomi it's really not," she interrupted me, "there really wasn't any need for me to treat you so badly when we weren't around other people."

"Emily…" I started to say before…

"…and I don't want you to think I'm ashamed of us, or having second thoughts or something ok? Because I'm not."

"Emily…"

"I just, needed to get today over with that's all, I feel I can breathe a bit easier now, I don't know why but I do."

"_Emily," _I said slightly more forcefully this time as the pain cut through me once more, her fingers squeezing the life out of my injured hand.

"What baby?" She asked looking across at me, appearing to be confused, and a mite bit grumpy at my constant attempts at interrupting her little apology speech.

"Firstly Ems, I never thought any of those things ok? Yeah, I did feel a bit hurt that you didn't want me around, but that was only because I really wanted to be there for you. I understood ok Ems? I've been there myself, I know how it feels sweetheart, I really do."

I paused for a second as her eyes filled with tears, smiling over at her reassuringly. She blinked rapidly and sniffed shaking her head as she did so.

"And secondly?" she asked as she regained her composure.

"Secondly love," I said matter of factly, "I'm afraid I'm bleeding on your skirt."

I nodded to my hand, still firmly clasped in hers and the thin trail of blood that was, sure enough, trickling from my palm and dripping onto her black skirt.

"What the fuck?" she exclaimed turning over my hand and spotting the nail marks. "Did I do that?"

"Get a damp cloth and sort out your skirt hun," I said taking back my hand and licking the blood from the palm, the ionic taste reminding me of another sad time in a far foreign land.

"Bollocks to my skirt," she said getting up and grabbing a cloth from the dinner tray and dabbing at my hand with it, "let's get you cleaned up."

"It's only a scratch Ems," I told her shaking my head and closing my hand, "I've had far worse."

"You need it cleaning and dressing," she insisted, making me smile at the level of her forcefulness.

"It'll be ok Ems," I replied, "it'll be healed in a few minutes, don't worry about it."

"You sure?" she asked, still holding the cloth over me, looking at me anxiously.

"Positive," I said, tugging at her until she sat down on my lap enabling me to wrap my arms around her, my fist clenched tightly on the cloth she had placed in it; "I'm absolutely sure I'll survive."

"Well I'd offer to kiss it better," Emily said after she slipped her arms around my neck, "but I hate the sight of other people's blood…I'd have made a lousy nurse."

"I'm sure you'd have been a wonderful nurse Em," I said sincerely with no attempt at false flattery. "I'm pretty sure you would be excellent at whatever you turned your hand to, selling, painting, anything."

"You think?" she asked me, her voice soft and low, like a child seeking for approval from a parent.

"You've got to trust your old Sarn't Campbell soldier," I replied with a grin, "'cause she doesn't think, she knows!"

I did as well. Even in the short time I'd known her I was sure that Emily Fitch had an extraordinary talent for success; she was an extraordinary woman.

"Thank you baby," she said finally, "are we ok?"

"I think we are," I told her pulling her close, her chin resting on my shoulder as I hugged her tight.

"Didn't you just say Sarn't Campbell doesn't think she knows?" she said, her lips brushing my ear as she leaned back to kiss me.

"Exactly!"

o+o+o

We sat together on that balcony watching the sun sink towards the horizon when suddenly Emily climbed off me, stood, and pulled at my hand insistently.

"Come on, I need a change of scenery. I'm sick of just looking out there; I want to _be_ out there."

"You want to go outside?" I asked wondering what the current security was and suspecting that it would be ok.

"I want three things babes, a walk, some food and a holiday."

"Well, we can do the first, not sure about the last; and as for the food, I thought you weren't hungry hun?"

"I'm not, but I think after a walk I'm going to need something, and you need to eat too…have you eaten anything at all today?"

"I had a little something earlier," I lied, my own appetite lost with Emily's. Ems frowned at me as I hauled myself to my feet, my legs half asleep from where she had been sitting; I suspected that she didn't believe me, after all I'd hardly been out of her sight all day, one way or another. If she did suspect subterfuge, she allowed me my little deception, not mentioning it as we walked down the stairs and headed for the gardens, leaving the house arm in arm for the first time ever.

"Nomi?" Emily said, breaking the silence that had descended between us as we walked across the gardens towards the lake that nestled in the distant copse of trees.

"Uh huh," I replied absently, picking at the plaster she had insisted that I put on my hand before we left.

"Would you like to go on holiday with me? Go somewhere nice, incognito, get away from it all?"

"Sounds good to me Ems," I said trying to remember when I had last been on holiday, and thinking that it was probably when Paul was still alive. "Can you afford the time right now, with so much going on at work?"

"Fuck work," she said with venom, "I need an escape right now; and besides, mum needs to take control. She doesn't need me being there while she establishes herself there."

"She said that?" I asked surprised that Jenna would be so blunt.

"She didn't have to babe; come on, you said you did business studies, you know I'm right."

"You are," I conceded, knowing that a new leader in work or in the Army needed to establish their own way of doing things, and knowing also that one thing you didn't need was the old guard around to affect that balance.

"Settled then, I'm going to book us somewhere nice, somewhere special; just you and me on a nice romantic get away."

"Don't I get a say in that?" I asked, joking with her; happy to see a bit of enthusiasm if not happiness, on this sad day.

"Not if I'm paying you don't," she said with the first genuine smile of the day hitting her face, lighting it up and making my heart lift along with it.

"Do I get to know where we're going then?"

"Not if I'm paying," she repeated pulling on my arm playfully. "It'll just have to be a surprise, I'll ask Jeremiah for his advice on security so you won't have an excuse to find out."

"The LT owes me Ems," I teased, trying to keep the light mood alive, "I'm sure he'd tell me if I asked."

"Don't. You. Dare," she replied, and that was the end of that.

o+o+o

We were deep in the copse when the sun slipped low enough to turn the sky a deep burnished orange, making the small lake glow attractively, its waters looking even more inviting than the last time I was here.

"Remember this spot?" Emily asked as we walked near the edge in a tiny clearing, letting go of my hand and walking over to a tree stump and patting it.

"Sort of," I said looking around, "isn't this where we…"

"…had a long discussion about our first kiss," she finished sitting on the stump and crossing her legs, "yes it is, good memory!"

"Things got complicated didn't they," I said walking over to where she sat.

"They did baby, that's ok though isn't it?"

"Yeah it is," I replied placing my hands on her arms and rubbing them gently, "complicated is ok with me."

"Tough day," she said as I stepped around her, gently massaging her shoulders as I did so.

"Yup," I agreed as she leaned back into me, my arms wrapping around her.

"Nomi?" she said as she stared out over the waters, the light finally starting to go.

"Yes love?" I asked gently, sensing the hurt that was ebbing into her voice once more.

"I think I'm going to miss him you know?" she said crying again as I quickly held her tight. "After everything he did, after all the bullshit I'm really going to fucking miss him."

"I know baby," I told her holding her tight as she cried once more, thinking of mum, and Paul, and how their absence still caused me pain; "I know."

.

.

.

A/N: Of course she didn't run, this is Sergeant Naomi Campbell, those colours don't run! (-:


	60. Chocolate, Chats and Changes

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness, a heavy case of writers block, (every chapter is a struggle), and an ex I could still more than happily put in the Basement with Naomi, even now!

I still have nothing to do with Skins, but then do we care about Skins any more? We have our _own_ Skins…#OccupySkinsGen2 (thanks to the twitter folks for the correction).

**Authors Note: **Hello again, back from my week off where I managed to suffer from horrendous writers block once more…pressure, pressure pressure. )-:

Anyway a couple of things to ask for those of you that read my notes; firstly the good stuff, a HUGE Happy Birthday to the wonderful Stunty. If you haven't started reading 'Tales from the Firehouse' please rush off and do so now, it's a truly great story with SO much potential. So go and read it, say hi with a review, and tell her how much we want it to get to chapter 60 too (-:

Secondly, I've asked for this before…what seems like far too many times, but thoughts, prayers, positive vibes, healing waves or anything you can spare for my mate SJ who's found herself a very, very, sick girl again. I know it's an imposition, but her story on here gave a lot of us a lot of pleasure and I think she really deserves it.

Thank you all, please accept this humble offering as compensation.

Es

**Chapter 60 – Chocolate, Chats and Changes**

It was the early hours of the morning when I finally gave up to the insomnia that had claimed me as its own. It hadn't come as a surprise to me that I'd have trouble sleeping, it had happened to me many times before in Afghanistan. For some reason, that I'd never been able to explain, once the adrenaline of a situation had eased off once I had the opportunity to catch up on whatever sleep I had missed, I never seemed to be able to drop off.

I wasn't sure if it was just my brain racing in my skull thinking about everything and anything, or some sort of payback for the punishment I had given myself over the last few days; either way the result was the same, I couldn't fucking sleep.

Emily was well away, though her sleeping had been as bad as mine for obvious reasons. The family doctor had prescribed her some sleeping tablets to help, sleeping tablets that she adamantly refused to take. It had only been after a lot of persuasion from me that she had agreed to take two of them and finally lose herself into oblivion.

After half an hour of lying there, listening to Emily snore I couldn't stand it any longer and silently slipped from the bed and into the other room, pulling on some clothes as quietly as I could. Not wanting to worry the sleeping girl if by some miracle she awoke from the chemically induced coma, I quickly scribbled a note and crept back into the bedroom, tucking it under her phone.

Pausing only to pull up the duvet and cover her properly, I walked out of our rooms, and down the stairs; heading for the kitchens in search of a cup of hot tea, the one thing that mum had always told me would help. Despite it being the early hours of the morning it was still warm in the house and I was longing for a breath of fresh air as I made my way down the stairs and into the hallway, enjoying the cool as I stepped barefoot onto the tiled floor.

It was the faint light that leaked from around the morning room door that caught my eye, the thin strip of light whose glow cut through the darkness. Suspiciously I padded over to it silently, rolling me feet across the floor rather than step, my hips low to give me better balance. I listened at the door for a second and heard the faint sound of music, muffled through the heavy oak.

Deciding that there must be no danger inside the room I knocked gently and heard a familiar voice call out.

"Oh it's you Naomi dear, come in and join me," Jenna said as I poked my head around the door. I walked over to where she was sitting and eased myself down into one of the chairs.

"I take it you can't sleep either," I said accepting the cup of hot chocolate that she poured for me from a classic side handled pot.

"No, not really," she said sitting back and smiling. "Where's Emily?"

"Sleeping with Temazepam," I replied taking a sip of the thick liquid, "or whatever it was that the doctor prescribed," I added at her frown.

"Ah," Jenna replied indicating her understanding with a nod, "yes, he does like his tablets that one. Is she all right?"

"Well away," I replied, "I think she's doing better than she was. I think the funeral helped, if you can excuse the sentiment. What I mean is…."

"…I can excuse you Naomi," she interrupted my flailing for words. "I know exactly what you mean; it's that sense of closure that allows you to move on isn't it?

"I guess so," I said noncommittally. I don't remember mum's funeral ever acting as a point of closure for me, in fact the only time I think I actually got 'closure' was when the last drop of ink went into my back and my tattoo was finally done; knowing that she would always be with me and I could finally move on. Up to that point I'd hid from the pain by throwing myself into my work, legal work, combat training, and everything that went with being a member of the Royal Military Police.

Jenna peered at me over the lip of her cup, her look appraising as she considered me carefully.

"You know, you really are nothing like I expected Naomi; when Robert told me about you that is."

"How so?" I asked sitting back in the chair and looking at her expectantly, sipping at my drink happily. I very nearly spat it out at what she said next.

"Well I have to say I imagined you to be a lot more, well, butch," she said with a smile; "with a lot more muscles and a bad attitude."

"I'm sorry to have disappointed you," I said with a smile, dabbing at my mouth with the sleeve of my hoodie.

"Well I wouldn't use the word disappointed," she said looking me up and down, "I think perhaps you could do with a bit more sleep and perhaps a trip to touch up those roots of yours; but other than that you seem pretty sound to me dear. My daughter seems to love you anyway so you can't be all _that_ bad."

"So what you're saying is that I'm loveable, but looking past my best then," I said putting my hand to my hair. "Perhaps Emily's right about having a holiday then."

Jenna raised an eyebrow at me and tapped her immaculately manicured finger against the cup.

"She decided she needs some time away from everything," I said defensively as she stared at me. "Plus she thought that you'd want to take control of the company without her around to split the staff's loyalty."

"She's right," Jenna said thoughtfully, "she's a clever girl my daughter. I think I'll need her around for a week or so just to help me settle back in, but then yes, I think her not being around might be a good thing for me. She can help out with the customers, give me some public support and then step back for a bit, that way you two can have your romantic holiday with my blessing."

"You know," I said with a raised eyebrow of my own as I repeated her words, "you really are nothing like I expected Jenna; or at least you're nothing like what the file I read on you said you were like."

"How so," she replied a twinkle in her tired looking eyes as she repeated my own question in turn.

"Well, to be honest Jenna the file implied that you'd be less than approving of Emily and me getting together."

"Because I'm very protective of my family?" she asked tilting her head.

"More because it said you were a bigoted old woman who insisted that your cross dressing son come home and stop embarrassing you."

"Well, I do object to old," she said with a laugh and a shake of the head. "Is that really what you read about me?"

I nodded and drained my cup, trying to avoid eye contact with her as she smiled and shook her head amusedly.

"Oh dear, it looks like your files need updating Naomi love, it was Robert that decided to rant at poor James, though I have to admit I thought he was being a little silly."

"Silly?" I asked, somewhat confused. I'd pretty much decided that the file was incorrect when it came to Jenna Fitch, while everything else had been accurate; she had shown none of the bigotry it had implied about her, anything but in fact.

"Yes, silly," she said putting her cup down on the table and refilling it, grimacing as she took a sip. "Cold," she announced, getting up from the chair; "walk with me Naomi and I'll explain while I make us a nice fresh batch of drinking chocolate, it's one thing I can make without ruining it."

I followed her out of the room, wondering what she was going to tell me, and in part knowing it as well.

"Rob wasn't very supportive of Emily when she told us that she was gay Naomi," she said as we strode down the dark corridor towards the kitchens, "but then I suspect you already knew that. Actually he was very hostile towards her; I don't think he could accept that she wasn't his little girl any more, and he liked it even less that his little girl didn't like boys. For most of the twin's lives Emily was a proper daddies girl, then when she plucked up the courage to tell us, Robert went wild."

"I suspected as much," I told her as we started messing about in the kitchen, hunting for the things we needed to make a fresh drink. "Ems never actually said anything to me, but I'm not stupid. I figured that all that stuff with Katie was about this, she told me how supportive Katie was at university with that bitch that hurt her."

"Oh her," Jenna said with a surprising level of hatred in her voice; "yes, Katie was very sisterly when that happened, in fact the girls were very close back then, practically inseparable in fact. Totally different of course, but they were the epitome of twin sisters until Emily told us about her sexuality, their relationship went downhill from then on."

"Because of Rob?"

"Because of Robert yes," she said as she opened the huge fridge and took out a large bottle of milk. "Rob decided to start favouring Katie; to Emily's expense I'm afraid, though you probably saw the evidence of that. Katie became Daddy's little angel and Emily became Robert's little servant, she would do anything to try and get back what she lost, even in the slightest little way; and I'm afraid my Katie lorded it over her, probably because she'd spent her entire youth trying to win Rob over."

"That's sad," I said frowning, "when we first met she told me that Katie had always been Rob's favourite daughter; she seemed pretty bitter about it."

"I think that's always how she felt," Jenna confirmed nodding absently, "to be absolutely truthful Robert loved them both equally, in that way at least he was a good father to the twins."

"And James?" I asked, wondering how he fitted into this story.

"Ah, now James was a different matter Naomi dear. James was the son Robert wanted to continue his legacy and he was definitely Robert's favourite." Jenna smiled fondly at the thought of her cheeky faced son, "not that either of the girls resented that you understand, I think they loved him almost as much as we did. But that's not what you were wondering is it?"

I shook my head, "not really no." I admitted, wondering if she would finally explain things.

"Well, James is extremely fond of Emily Naomi, you must have realised that. He's looked up to his big sister for years and he took it very badly when Robert decided to turn against her; and I'm afraid that his whole public persona was created deliberately to irritate Robert. James had no interest in joining the family firm, didn't care about anything to do with Fitch Industries really, so he decided to try and show Robert what a monumental prick he was being…his words of course."

"Of course," I agreed quickly as her words confirmed my own suspicions of the family dynamic. I was now sure that the incident in Blackpool I'd read about was related to what she was telling me.

"He was doing really well too," she said smiling fondly at the thought, "he's a born actor that boy, I really think he may have missed his vocation in life. Robert was getting more and more frustrated with his extravagance but there was nothing he could do about it while he was at university, but that little stunt in Blackpool was the final straw."

"Our file said that you insisted he come home and behave, and that he tempered his behaviour after that."

"That's what Robert told everyone yes; the truth is he tempered his behaviour because Emily and I asked him to. My lovely husband was making poor Emily's life miserable; both inside and outside work. He was becoming an embarrassment to us all, despite his good intentions, he was starting to be more than a little bit silly, and I think he was enjoying himself a little too much."

"So everything was about Emily then," I said sadly as I rinsed off the cups and dried them on a handy cloth.

"Not entirely Naomi, there was a lot of family politics involved that I won't go into, but really, it was all about Robert…my late husband wasn't the most progressive parent the world has ever seen."

"Shame, you've got a really nice family," I said and meaning it absolutely, "even Katie's not that bad when you get to know her, she's been a rock for Emily over the last few days."

"And threatened you a few times so I've heard," she said pouring a liberal scoop of an expensive looking drinking chocolate powder into her simmering milk. I merely shrugged in response.

"I probably deserved it," I replied sombrely, "I've never been very good at dealing with people that were upset; I'm much better at staying the fuck out of the way, doing my job, and letting others deal with the emotional crap."

"You're a bit hard on yourself Naomi," Jenna said pouring our chocolate into the mugs straight from the pan. "You've been there for Emily as much as she would let you, and that's what's important."

"I still feel a bit of a failure," I told her accepting the cup she handed me. "I mean look, I'm hiding down here now drinking chocolate leaving her in bed alone. That can't be right can it?"

I blew on the steaming cup, avoiding the penetrating look I was getting, eventually Jenna sighed. "We've got a ways to go with you haven't we Naomi?" she said, taking me by the hand and leading me from the kitchen. "Do you really think that you have to be by Emily's side twenty four hours a day?"

"Well…" I started, realising that it sounded a bit ludicrous but wanting to explain myself. "Everyone seemed disappointed that I left the other day, and I think I hurt Emily be not being there when she wanted me. I just think I'm supposed to be there and I think it's better if I'm always there you understand?"

"I understand Naomi," Jenna said as we walked through the dim hallways back to the morning room. "But you don't have to feel bad about giving yourself and Emily some space you know, honestly if you didn't I'm sure she would have begun to hate you for it."

"You think?" I said as we made it back to the brightly lit room.

"I know dear, now stop feeling guilty about finding your own space and sit down and drink your chocolate, keep an old woman company for a while; I'm sure if Emily wakes up she'll ring you on that mobile of yours, you know the one you keep checking when you think I'm not looking."

I felt my cheeks warm just a little as she smiled at me, making me feel like a teenager that had been busted by a favourite teacher. I didn't mind really, and Jenna's amused look told me everything I needed to know about how she felt as well. I felt a strange sense of gratitude and love for her, she reminded me of my own mother in a way. She wasn't quite the same of course, but there were enough similarities to make me like her.

"Naomi?" Jenna said after a while of us just chatting away about anything and nothing, sipping at our drinks happily. "Do you love my daughter, I mean _really_ love her?"

"I do," I told her immediately not hesitating for a second, surprising myself with the honesty, if not the sentiment.

"That's good," she said placing her cup on the table and yawning, "I'm afraid things might get a bit more stressful for Emily over the next week or so, there are going to have to be a few changes at the company, and while I get settled in Emily and Katie are going to have to shoulder some of the day to day work."

"I think she knows that Jenna," I replied, thinking back to the conversation we'd had at the lakeside, Emily and I discussing the changes that were likely to come, talking about anything but the events of the day.

"There's going to be a fair bit of pressure on you as well Naomi, and perhaps on your relationship with my daughter. I'm going to have to ask her to travel quite a bit, touch base with our customers, and make sure our relationships are sound."

"She's already working on that," I told her sitting back and closing my eyes, "Emily had Bonnie arranging meetings before she left the office."

Jenna nodded thoughtfully at this, and I wondered just how much she knew about Emily's plans, and suspecting quite a bit; Jenna's finger seemed to be right on the pulse of the business.

"That's so like her," she said shaking her head, "she's going to make me worry about her isn't she? I do hope she's not just going to try and bury herself in work."

"I'll make sure she doesn't," I promised, "I'll make sure she finds time for herself, to grieve properly if that's what she needs; and if necessary, I'll drag her to see Joanna."

"Well let's hope it won't come to that," Jenna said leaning forward and patting me on the arm. "How are your sessions going anyway?"

"They're not right now," I admitted, "haven't had time really, plus the nightmares are pretty much gone."

"Really?" Jenna replied with a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

"Pretty much, I've had a few bad dreams but nothing like they were."

Jenna looked at me with concern on her face, "Don't make me worry about you as well Naomi dear, you need to keep up your sessions with Joanna; it's important."

"I think I'm doing ok Jenna," I said with a smile, "besides, they must be costing you a fortune and I don't want to seem a sponger."

"Tush," Jenna spat frowning at me, "I know this may seem crass Naomi, but to me it's only money; and I would far rather it was spent on doing some good than not."

"Even so," I started only to be interrupted with a look.

"I won't hear any more on the subject Naomi," she said with finality, "as I said to you at the time, you saved my daughters life that means more to me than money. It means even more now."

"Right," I said simply hoping to change the subject, "I'll make sure I make time then, once our holiday is over."

"You do that," Jenna said sitting back into her chair, "though I hope you're prepared for a few more than a few days of hard travel before then Naomi," she said with a smile, presumably taking the hint and moving onto safer ground. "I'm afraid you're both going to earn that holiday of yours."

"It'll be a bit of a busman's holiday really Jenna, it's not like I'll be able to switch off wherever we end up." It was true as well, one of the negative things of being a CPO, you never switch off…especially, as I was finding, when your girlfriend is your package.

"You need to find a little time to relax Naomi dear," Jenna insisted, "that _is_ the point of a holiday you know."

"Got to keep our Emily safe as well though Boss," I said with a wink.

"I'm sure you will manage that with your usual skill Naomi…right, time for bed I think. Feel free to make yourself at home..."

"I think I should be heading back to bed as well," I said getting up and offering her my hand, helping her to her feet, "don't want her getting annoyed at me for leaving her in bed alone again."

"Think about what I said Naomi," Jenna said, suddenly pulling me into a hug, "don't lose yourself ok?"

"I won't," I promised her as she let me go and patted me on the arm. I promised myself I wouldn't either; Jenna was absolutely right, I had to keep something back for me in all of this, I couldn't afford to lose myself. The trouble was I wasn't sure how you played this game; it was a hell of a lot different with Emily than any of my other ex's, and the added complications of our relationship weren't helping.

"Good. I like having you around Naomi, and that's not just for Emily's sake either. I like you a lot, you're a good person."

"I like you too Jenna," I replied, "you're a very strong woman; I have no idea how you're managing all this today."

"Needs must Naomi dear," she said squeezing my arm, "it comes with the job, one day perhaps you'll understand."

"The job?" I asked as she walked over to the door, she paused and turned with a sad smile on her face.

"Being a mother Naomi dear, the most difficult and rewarding job in the world. I'll see you at nine for breakfast, sleep well Naomi."

"You too," I said as she walked away, heading for her bedroom, "sleep well."

I took our mugs back to the kitchen before I turned in for the night, feeling sleepy for the first time that evening. As I padded my way through the almost silent house I made a few decisions that would help me keep my promises to both Jenna and Emily. First thing in the morning I was getting up and hitting the pool before breakfast. I hadn't been swimming in what felt like forever, since the last time we were here in fact; and the wise old fox that was Jenna Fitch was right, I needed the time alone. Even if Emily was going to be nearby while I swam.

My mind made up, I washed up the remnants of our late evening drinking session and put everything to one side to dry; finding myself unable to break the habit instilled in me by both my mother and the army, never leave your crap behind for someone else to find. Finally happy I walked along the unfamiliar corridors allowing myself to be guided by the rhythmic ticking of the grandfather clock in the hallway. I glanced down at my watch to see that it was a little after two in the morning; I was ready to curl up and try for sleep, more than ready in fact.

I saw light creeping out from under the door to Jenna's room as I mounted the stairs, cursing as one of them creaked its protest at my weight; I could hear the faint sound of music once more as I got closer before the oppressive silence returned and the light went out. I used the light of my phone to work my way down the pitch black hallway and unlocked the door to my bedroom as quietly as I could, easing my way in and locking the door behind me. I stripped off my clothes and laid them on my bed before opening the adjoining door to where Emily lay still fast asleep. I slipped under the covers and snuggled up behind her, placing a gentle kiss on her shoulder as she muttered in her sleep, hoping to ease her back into her chemically induced dreamland.

No matter how much I might need my space, no matter how right Jenna was, I needed to be right here too; my place was with Emily, keeping her safe in any way I could.

o+o+o

I woke the next morning as my alarm began its tolling of six am; quickly I reached out an arm to silence it and rolled over to see if it had disturbed my sleeping partner, only to find a pair of dark brown eyes staring back at me.

"Morning baby," Emily said with a smile.

"Hey," I replied stretching, "how you doing?"

"Better, all the better for having a good nights sleep anyway. You're up early today babe."

"I could say the same thing for you," I said as I reached out a hand to cup her face, "I thought I'd have trouble waking you for breakfast."

"I woke up about half an hour ago, I got your note."

I dropped my hand to the firm mattress, I'd forgotten entirely about the note in my desire to get into bed. To my relief Emily just smiled at me. "It's ok babes, I don't mind you sneaking off in the middle of the night you know, well as long as you come back that is, and you did so that's ok. Where did you go by the way?"

"I was originally going for a walk," I said as she ran her fingers along my hip, scraping her nails in a way she _knew_ I liked. "I ended up having a couple of drinks with your mother; she makes a mean hot chocolate."

"Midnight snacks with my mum," Emily said, her nails roaming up and down, "and there was me thinking you'd just gone for a swim."

"That's the plan for this morning," I said with a smile, "thought I'd get up and hit the pool then have a nice hot shower before breakfast. Are you going to join me this time?"

"What, when I have a nice warm bed to curl up in, I don't think so babe."

"Your loss," I said as her nails scraped up my back as she shuffled closer to me. "Sure I can't persuade you to stay with me?"

"Well I really did have plans for a long swim," I said as she pressed her lips to the scar on my shoulder, her tongue flicking out to tease me as she pulled away; "but I guess I could be persuaded to stay…for a bit anyway"

"I should hope so too," she said as she practically melted into me, her body moulding into mine perfectly, as it always seemed to. "Besides, you don't want to go outside right now, it's raining, and you wouldn't want to get all wet now would you?"

I bit back a smirk at her unfortunate double-entendre, seeing her cheeks redden slightly as she realised her mistake; but I really couldn't let her get away with the obvious, glaring, mistake.

"Ems, I was planning on going swimming hun, I don't think it really matters how wet I get on my way to the pool."

"Oh well in that case," she said, recovering herself and sliding her hands down my body, "let me see what I can do about that."

I closed my eyes as she pushed me onto my back, her lips working their way around my body as the mood took her. She obviously wanted to be in charge today, for what reason I didn't know; but I wasn't about to deny her, or indeed complain.

o+o+o

There was a moment, just after I dived into the Fitch's outdoor pool, when I wished I'd stayed in that warm, soft bed, with my hot, soft girl. It was raining as Emily had said, the traditional relentless drizzle that marked many a summer's day here in jolly old England; but it wasn't that that made me regret leaving her in bed.

The water was, once again, shockingly cold; someone hadn't bothered to switch on the pool heaters, but then I guess at the moment there had been other things to think about.

As I pumped my arms and legs, trying to overcome the shock with a bit of honest hard exercise, I had a memory of Rob Fitch at a breakfast after my first visit to this pool, telling me how brave I was to swim in it in April. Well it wasn't April now, but I was either brave or stupid to be here rather than with her. Still I was in the water now and as the whole point of being here was to get some time to myself, I thought the best thing to do was use it.

After all, I was already fucking cold wasn't I?

It didn't take long for me to find some heat, and my way into my bubble; my real one this time, not the one that Joanna had taught me to search for, the one that I was struggling to find these days. But here, in the cold water of the outdoor pool, with the rain splashing on my face when I surfaced to breathe, I found my solace; found my special place, found my time to think. I had a lot to think about too, last nights chat with Jenna had opened up a few more security issues in my head and I needed the information that would settle my nerves. Jenna seemed to want a hustle on to drive off the vultures that were circling Fitch Industries. The trouble with putting a hustle on is that things get missed, and when things get missed people get hurt; and that wasn't going to happen, not on my watch anyway; not when it was Emily's neck on the line.

For length after length in that chilly water I tried to tuck all of my rambled thoughts into some form of structure, tried to gain clarity from the confusion, order from the chaos. I had so many things that I needed to sort out, and yet the one thing that kept clouding my thoughts was one Emily Victoria Fitch. It wasn't just the thoughts of this morning's little lovemaking session that were affecting me, but the reasons behind it. Sex isn't just sex to Emily, she wasn't like me. I was sure that sex to her was more than just a release, it was a way of connecting, and connect with me she had. The more I thought about it, the more I was sure it was her way of telling me she was moving on, that the last few days were behind her and it was back to being me and her; I hoped it was anyway.

As I swam, I decided that I wouldn't be taking my pre-breakfast shower alone; that if my little red head was still curled up in that big warm bed she'd be dragged out to join me.

That settled, my mind turned to the other things, and this time it decided to obey me and start putting things into order. By the time my lungs were burning and my muscles were starting to ache I had everything where I needed it. I was going to find out the itinerary for Emily's tour and get it to JJ as soon as I could; I was going to personally oversee the security arrangement so I didn't feel as lost as I had over the last few days, and nothing James Cook could say was going to change my mind.

Feeling better I swam to the edge of the pool and dragged myself out, running my hands through my hair to take out the worst of the water despite the rain. I had a surprise as I walked towards the changing hut to collect my gear so I could head back to my room; standing there, with my robe held out, was the girl that had filled my head all morning.

"I thought you were never getting out," Emily said as I slipped my arms into the warm towelling and pulled it on.

"And I thought _you_ were staying in bed," I replied turning and pulling her to me, her body warm against my wet swimsuit.

"Ugh, Nomi fuck off you're cold and wet," she said squealing as I pushed her backwards into the hut, out of sight of the world. She wasn't squealing for long as I slammed her against the slatted wall of the changing room wall and pressed my lips to hers.

"I was thinking…a shower…might solve that," I said between kisses, grabbing at her hands and holding them firmly against the wall, stopping her from moving.

"I've…just had…one." Emily said, breathing heavily as I moved my attention to that soft neck of hers, causing her to stiffen slightly as I nipped it gently.

"Well you can just have another one then," I told her firmly, "because I need a shower and you…you need to come with me."

"Do I?" she said breathlessly as I stepped backwards, pulling her with me.

"Damn right you do."

o+o+o

"Good morning girls," Jenna called out as Emily and I walked into breakfast slightly out of breath. Our 'shower' had taken slightly longer than even I'd thought it would, and we'd had to rush to get dressed and downstairs in time.

"Morning mum…guys," Emily said waving at Katie and James who were sitting next to Jenna. "Morning Gareth," she added nodding at Captain Stupid who was looking at us with a raised eyebrow

"Did you sleep well love," Jenna asked as Emily bent down to kiss her.

"I did thanks mum," Emily said taking a seat and gesturing for me to sit next to her. "Naomi told me I needed to take a tablet and after that I was well away. I hear you had a late one though."

"I did," Jenna said with a smile, "there were too many things to think about for an easy sleep I'm afraid; but I did have some good company which made it slightly less lonely."

"Thoughts about dad?" James asked pouring a glass of orange juice for his sister and me.

"In part dear," Jenna said with a sigh. "Look, as we're all family here I think it's time for some truths to come out. I know you probably suspected it, but your late father and I hadn't been close for a very long time; that doesn't make his loss any less painful for me, but I think it important you know the truth."

"Jeez mum," Katie said surprising me by leaning over and smiling at Jenna. "Like we didn't already know; you do realise Emily is lousy at keeping secrets from me don't you?"

"I am not," Emily replied sounding affronted, "I never said a word to you about mum and dad."

"You didn't have to," James answered handing her the glass of juice with a wink. "You're pretty transparent sometimes Ems."

"I think 'accidentally' spilling that drink on dad's PA at Christmas last year was a big enough give-away," Katie said smiling knowingly at Emily from across the table. "Especially the way Dad reacted, he was furious; far more angry than he should have been, even with you."

"So you both knew then," Jenna interrupted the sibling banter with a raise of her hand, "well that does make this a lot easier for me. I need you all to be strong now; I need us all to come together as a family. We have a lot of work to do over the next few days and that's going to mean a few sacrifices for you all, even for you James. I know we don't normally talk business at the table, and I know this might seem insensitive so close to the funeral, but we have to sort things out…the jackals are eyeing us up right now and I will not have our family business taken from us without a fight."

"You think it's that bad mum," Katie asked, sounding concerned. For someone that had plans to leave and set up her own business again it came as a bit of a surprise; but then I guess setting up your own business is much easier with a safety blanket firmly in place in case you fail…again.

"I want to be prepared for all eventualities dear," Jenna continued, "you know what the business is like. Right then, these are my thoughts…"

The next ten minutes told me that Fitch Industries were in safe hands, if that had ever been in doubt. I didn't even need to field a question as Jenna explained her plans for the next week or so. I don't know how much sleep she'd got last night after I saw her light go out, but watching her plans evolve was like a master class in business management. Every single option had been covered; key contacts identified and plans to deal with them laid out. It was like listening to a military briefing in its depth and complexity, both of the twins and their respective teams had a specific role to play; and, as she'd told me, Emily's whistle-stop tour of the world was confirmed.

"Finally," Jenna said, winding up for the big finish, "once we've got through the first week I'm ordering all of you out of the business for a week, I'm going to need to consolidate my position and that will be easier without you all around, especially you James."

Jenna smiled fondly at her son's confused face, "you're going back to University James, you have exams coming up; concentrate on those please, make everyone proud."

James nodded, smiling at his mother as he realised that she had just included him in the family meeting, no matter how uninvolved he was in the business itself. It caused me to rearrange my opinions of Jenna Fitch one stage further, shrewd business woman and thoughtful mother.

"One thing before I forget," Jenna said abruptly after signalling to the ever present Andrew to serve breakfast. "If either of you want to leave the company after this is over, I don't want you to feel obligated to stay. I know both of you have your own dreams, and I don't want to stand in the way of them; once I'm on my feet you're both free to leave, I'd only ask that you give me a chance to take over before you do."

The silence that fell across the table was almost as thick as the slabs of toast that one of the staff placed in front of us all as breakfast was served. I could see Emily and Katie sharing looks, communicating in their own private way. Eventually they came to some form of consensus and turned, as one, to look at their mother.

"We're going nowhere mum," Emily said as Katie nodded her agreement, "this isn't a time for us to be selfish, this is a time for family."

"Damn right," Katie added emphatically, stabbing a sausage from the plate in front of her.

"No swearing at the table Katie," Jenna admonished her automatically, "you know the rules; and thank you both, it's good to have your support…all of you. Now enough talk of business, the foods getting cold."

There was no more talk of business over the lavish breakfast; there wasn't much talk of anything at all. Even Gareth seemed reticent to break the ice that had formed, not even with one of his ludicrous stories. Eventually though we could hide no longer in the pretence of eating and as the plates were taken away Jenna decided enough was enough.

"So, Emily; Naomi let something slip about a holiday last night…are you going to tell us where you're thinking of going?"

I managed to look at least slightly guilty under Emily's glare, concentrating on sipping at my coffee rather than face that look.

"_Someone_ can't keep secrets I see," she replied sternly as James nudged me making an 'oh oh' sound.

"Someone never said it was a secret," I said not wanting to let that comment stand unanswered.

"Oh have I spoken out of turn," Jenna interrupted with a smile, "and stop teasing poor Naomi Emily dear, it's not very nice."

"You're such a spoilsport mum," Emily said finally smiling and allowing me to breathe a silent sigh of relief as I realised that she wasn't really pissed off at me. I made a mental note to practice reading her a little bit better; she was getting far too good at playing me.

"Yes I am, but that's not the point," Jenna laughed at her daughter's pout, "so are you going to tell us?"

"No," Emily answered, giving me her very best steely glare; the mirth showing through despite everything else. "I told _someone_ it would be a surprise and I meant it; I'm not sharing with anyone that doesn't need to know."

"Oh really Emily," Jenna laughed, tapping the table good humouredly, "well keep your secrets then, I'm sure wherever you're going you will both enjoy it, and the break will do you both good."

"Does this mean you two are official then?" Katie asked, looking across at her sister. "Well I mean publicly official?"

"I guess so," Emily responded sounding doubtful and looking across at me.

"I think discretion is the better option Em," I offered, "I don't think we should upset the applecart too much."

"People are already talking Naomi," Katie said, glancing at her husband, "there was…well, there was a bit of talk at the funeral."

"I don't care," Emily interrupted, looking sternly at Gareth who sat looking sheepishly under her gaze; "but I think you might be right, personal and professional, like we agreed, yes?"

"Personal and professional," I confirmed, wishing it didn't have to be like that but knowing it was the right thing.

"What the fuck does that mean?" Katie demanded, ignoring the civilities of the breakfast table; "personal and professional indeed, what kind of drivel is that?"

"It's not drivel, it simply means we'll continue to have two separate lives Kay," Emily answered, "the professional one where Naomi is my CPO and the personal one where she's a lot more to me than that."

"Well I think your lines are blurring more than a bit," James said with a broad grin on his face.

"Well we'll just have to address that then won't we babe?" Emily said winking at me, "go back to the old days? We've done it before and we can do it again."

"Whatever you say Miss Fitch," I replied with a wink, "you're the boss."

"Actually Naomi, _I'm_ the boss," Jenna said with a wide grin. "But however you two _agree_ to behave is ok with me."

"Personal and professional then babes," Emily said raising her cup at me.

"Personal and professional hun," I said raising mine and tilting it across the table at her.

"Well that's settled then," Emily said with a grin; "we're all sorted mum."

"You don't have to do that," Jenna said from her position as head of the table. "You realise you don't have to hide anymore Emily, you can be yourself if you want."

"I know mum," she replied with a sad smile, "but for now being myself in my personal life will be enough. As long as Nomi and I don't have to hide from you guys, or our friends, well that's more than enough for me; is that ok with you love?"

It took me a few seconds before I could reply with a nod; it didn't seem a massive change in our relationship status as far as the family was concerned, but then again compared to where we had been it was a huge leap forward.

"Settled then," Emily said with a smile, "so everyone, I know you all know it…but this is my girlfriend Naomi, take the piss and she'll probably kill you…as James' friends would say, she's proper badass!"

"Ems," I protested as the table laughed at her comments.

"Well you are just a bit Nomi," Emily continued with a broad grin, "badass that is."

"Oh please, don't make me bring up my breakfast," Katie said with a smile, "Gareth, please get me out of here before I'm ill."

"Whatever you want Katie love," Gareth said, speaking for the first time and easing back his chair to get to his feet.

"Oh sit down babes, I wasn't being serious," Katie said quickly reaching out to touch her husbands arm. "He's being far too nice to me," she explained to the rest of us with a smile, "I think I could get used to it actually. Shame I've got too much work to do to enjoy it."

"Know the feeling," Emily said looking across at me, "still at least I get to drag mine around with me, why don't you do the same Kay?"

"I wish," Katie said fondly, "Gaz is off altitude training as of tomorrow, couldn't get any more time away from the boys could you sweetie?"

"Afraid not," Gareth said looking sheepish, "I'm already late for the camp, and if I want to keep my captaincy next season I need to be there, coach already has his eye on me."

"What for?" James asked looking puzzled, "I thought you were the star player."

"Nothing really, he just has," Gareth replied, glancing at Katie in a manner that my instructors in the RMP would have described as 'fucking guilty'. Katie's little nervous laugh told me there was something more to Gareth's little answer, but discretion prevented me from digging deeper. Sometimes being part of a larger body meant you had to put an anchor on your instincts, the army taught me that, as had my mum. It was funny really, despite the differences between our families; we had so much in common.

"Not again Kay," Emily said cryptically as Katie blushed and spluttered under her look. I shared a glance with James who was smirking at his sister; obviously I was missing something but that didn't matter. I felt a little out of the loop in this family thing, but it wasn't a problem as far as I was concerned. I was new to the table so to speak, but at least I was here; it was a lot more than the last time, at least this time I was here officially and not feeling like some sort of hanger on.

It was a pretty good feeling actually. It felt a little like home.

o+o+o

"So what are the plans for today Em?" I asked when we were alone in our rooms, the rather pleasant breakfast sitting comfortably in my stomach.

"We need to go home babe, got to pack, go into the office all sorts of stuff. First meeting is Friday, but then we're going to have to start flying I'm afraid."

"When do you want to leave?" I said lying back on the bed determined to enjoy the last few moments of luxury before facing the inevitable horrors of the journey home, hoping, irrationally, that she'd let me borrow a car and drive rather than fly again.

"Soon as we've said goodbye," Ems said climbing on top of me, her red hair tickling my face as she leaned forward. "and as soon as the helicopter arrives. I'm sorry we have to rush about babe, I know it's less than ideal, and I know you still don't like flying."

"I'm going to have to make a few phone calls love," I said as she straightened, the taste of her lips still on my own. I sighed at the thought of having to get into a helicopter again, and at the amount of work we were going to have to do "there's a lot to sort out if we're flying at the weekend."

"Friday night I'm afraid," Emily said sadly, "I told Bonnie to arrange everything as soon as she could. First meeting is in Dallas on Saturday afternoon, means we're going to be travelling through the night. Hopefully the time difference will give us a chance to sleep."

"You can at least sleep on the plane Ems," I said planting my hands on her thighs, "take some of those magic tablets with you."

"I might have to, though I don't like taking those things. It's going to be a rough week."

"Your mum said we'd earn our holiday hun, I hope she was right…"

"I'm still not telling you where we're going Nomi so don't even ask." Emily interrupted before I could continue, her face amused.

"Shouldn't you be packing right now?" I asked looking meaningfully at her as she sat astride my hips.

"Probably," Ems said with a grin, "but our ride won't be here for at least an hour, and we didn't bring that much with us…and frankly I kind of like where I am right now."

"Oh really?" I said grinning back.

"Yeah, got a problem with that?" she challenged, smirking at me; it was a challenge I couldn't resist.

"Might have," I replied, pushing up my hips and throwing her into my waiting arms. "What you going to do about it?"

"In an hour?" Ems said as I nuzzled into her neck, "Anything you like!"


	61. Helicopters, Hell Week and Holidays

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness, a heavy case of writers block, (every chapter is a struggle), and an ex I could still more than happily put in the Basement with Naomi, even now!

I still have nothing to do with Skins, but then do we care about Skins any more? We have our _own_ Skins…#OccupySkinsGen2 (thanks to the twitter folks for the correction).

**Authors Note: **OK I know it's been ages, but as I mentiond in the LMSY Xmas special I've been utterly blocked on this, which means I'll be utterly paranoid about how this is received.

Anyway, I made a promise to a bored girl in a hospital that I'd post this on Wednesday so post it I have. SJ this one's for you.

That's right folks, your positive vibes and a stubborn nature have had the desired effect, but they're still welcome. So if you're nice enough to drop this chapter a review, use it to say hi to SJ, I'm sure she'd like to read something more interesting than my stuff (-:

Also a bit in here that someone should recognise…made me laugh writing it anyway.

So sorry for the delay, hopefully I'll get back onto some sort of regular posting schedule again now, can't promise anything though.

Until next time (-:

Es

**Chapter 61 – Helicopters, Hell Week and Holidays**

"How are you doing Nomi?" Emily asked over the headset as I sat staring out of the helicopters windows over the English countryside.

"Doing fine," I replied, feeling anything but actually. The fear I'd discovered of flying I'd discovered in myself had indeed eased, but I still wasn't comfortable with the whole helicopter/aeroplane travel idea; not very comfortable at all. Still, having my hand held by a pretty redhead certainly made the whole flying experience that bit more enjoyable.

"Really?" she said, and even through the metallic sounding headset I could hear her amused disbelief. I turned away from the window to see her smiling at me, her eyes sympathetic, tinted with a hint of happiness.

"Yeah, I'm fine. "I told her with a reassuring smile, "Not great mind you, but good enough right now."

"Fair enough," she replied squeezing my knuckles, "shouldn't be long now really; look, you can see London over there."

I looked out into the distance, following her finger towards the dark smudge on the horizon, the familiar buildings popping up as a hint at that famous skyline. "What a shame, I've been enjoying our trip so much," I joked getting a playful bump from her as she leaned back across me and into her own seat.

"You can be a sarcastic cow sometimes Nomi, you know that?" Emily said with a grin, "I have no idea why I love you!"

I was more than pleased to hear the playful note in her voice, it had been a shit time for her and, despite her efforts, this was the first time I'd felt that she meant it; and I was determined to play along.

"Probably the same reasons that everyone else loves me," I joked trying to relax again; "my charm, personality, devastating wit and firm muscles."

"Well one out of three isn't bad," she replied, her voice now clear over the headphones, despite the din from the rotors. "I can't complain about the muscles, not sure about the rest though, especially the charm part."

"Your mother thinks I'm charming," I retorted as her hand covered mine and squeezed, her thumb idly stroking leeching away the tension; "your mother thinks I'm pretty awesome actually."

"Well," she said with a snort, "perhaps you should start dating my mother then…if she can see all these great things in you."

"Well," I replied feigning thoughtfulness, "she is very attractive, and of course very rich. Perhaps you're right Ems, if you're not interested in me any more perhaps I should see if Jenna is interested, after all she is a bit of a MILF."

"Ugh Nomi, did you _really _have to?" Emily said with a disgusted look and a slap on my hand that was still clenching the armrest. "Jesus babe, that's just a couple of steps over the line."

"Really?" I said feigning surprise, "I was actually being serious, you know your mother really is an attractive woman?"

"and I guess I'm a wrinkled old prune that's not worthy of your attentions?"

"I never said that love," I told her, letting go my death grip on the arrest and wrapping my arm around her shoulders, finding the position a lot more comforting. "Besides, you started this remember."

"You're still a cow Campbell," she told me, "and I still don't like you" she added, though the way she relaxed into my embrace told me she didn't mean it.

"Yeah well, I like you enough for the both of us," I said, pulling her close and kissing her head, taking care to avoid the headset.

"Guess we're ok then," she said snuggling into me, "for now at least. Wait until mum hears what you called her though, she'll kick your arse."

"Like I said," I sniffed unconcernedly, "your mum loves me; I think I'll be ok, more than ok probably."

"Shush Nomi," Emily said pointedly resting her head on my shoulder, "just shush now ok?"

"Yes Ma'am," I agreed, shushing up as ordered and listening to the sound of the rotors; trying to think about the girl at my side, and ignore the memories that had been trying to push their way out to ruin the journey once again.

"Nomi?" Emily said finally, as we flew over the sprawling mass of buildings that signalled that the journey was about to come to an end, "when we get back, do you still want to go on holiday with me?"

"No," I told her causing Emily to sit up and look at me. "Not as your treat anyway, I know you said you were going to sort it, but I want to pay for myself, I'm not exactly poor now you know."

It was true, my short time at Close Protection had been good to me financially speaking; I'd not paid rent on anywhere I'd lived, moving from the company's apartment straight into Emily's flat, and nearly all of my other incidental expenses had been covered either by the company or by my fairly respectable salary. Even my debts were wiped clean; winning the competition had given me the ability to get people off my back, with a little bit of help from Emily's financial advisor that was. So I was in pretty good shape right now, and I knew that I was more than capable of paying my own way, depending on where she had plans to go.

"We'll see," she said noncommittally, "I'm going to at least pay up front babes, I can't make it a surprise if I have to tell you all about it."

I grinned at her fake pout and decided to let it go, if it meant that much to her to give me a surprise destination I could afford to let her have it…after all, we could argue cost later.

"I take it that means I still don't get a say in where we're going?" I teased, knowing full well the answer.

"Oh of course you do darling," Emily replied holding my hand tightly as we felt the helicopter drop towards its final destination; "you can have a say in whether you like it or not _after_ we've arrived."

"Fair enough," I conceded, tapping her on the shoulder until she leant back into me. "Make sure it's somewhere nice, and safe," I added.

"Not somewhere warm then?"

"I think I've seen plenty of warm places Ems," I told her with a rueful grin, "and judging by that schedule of yours we're going to be seeing a few more over the next few days."

"Don't remind me," Emily groaned, "and it all starts this afternoon."

"Change of plan?" I asked her, "I thought you said that your first meeting was on Friday."

"It's not," Emily confirmed, telling me that I wasn't totally crazy; "but we're going to have to go back into the office so I can get ready for tomorrow. It's going to be a crazy week babes, I've asked Bonnie to arrange the MOD meeting for first thing tomorrow morning, then we're flying out to Dallas."

"Don't remind me," I mimicked, groaning in the same way that she had moments earlier.

"You'll be fine sweetie, you're badass remember?"

"You said it Miss Fitch, totally badass me."

"Just not in the air?"

"Nope," I said with a sigh, "I guess not in the air."

o+o+o

Thankfully my ordeal was over quite quickly, the helicopter descending into the riverside heliport at what felt like an alarming rate. Twelve months ago I'd have whooped with delight at a drop like this, dropping out of the sky into a forward base, popping flares just in case the Taliban were nearby with ground to air missiles. It didn't happen often, but you never took risks in my unit, especially when the package had ginger hair and a close relationship to Royalty.

Waiting for us at the heliport with a happy smile and an armful of papers was Bonnie, efficiency incarnate. Within moments we were through the building and in the waiting car; I sat up front with a grinning Darren as we navigated the South Bank on our way to the office.

"What's got you so amused?" I asked as we drove along, Emily getting a full set of updates from her Executive Assistant.

"Your face when you got in," Darren said ignoring my frown, "the colour of boiled shite you were; rough flight?"

"You could say that," I said shortly, trying to ignore it as his grin broadened.

"I heard you didn't like flying, never would have guessed it myself; funny really."

"What is?" I snapped as we pulled up at a red light, finally sick of the comments. It seemed like every fucker in the country wanted to take the piss out of my fear of flying and I had had my fill of them; poor old Darren was about to feel my anger if he pushed me any further. Unfortunately, as nice as he was, he wasn't too bright.

"You being scared of flying, you've got to admit it's pretty funny; I mean, you're supposed to be as tough as nails."

"Oh yeah, it's fucking hilarious isn't it? Naomi Campbell is scared of flying, "I started my voice as cold as ice. "Let me tell you something, my experiences of flying aren't the same as your little jollies to fucking Ibiza or the Costa Del fucking Sol. Let me tell you something… _Daz_…my last three times in the fucking sky haven't been a fucking joyride because they remind me of shit you cannot fucking imagine. Before I met you lot the last ride I had in a fucking helicopter I was doped up on morphine and strapped down to the floor on a fucking stretcher with three bullet wounds in my body. The nurses in the hospital ward I woke up in told me that I nearly didn't make it, and my last memory of that fucking flight is of being in absolute agony. I nearly died on that fucking chopper, so excuse me if I have some unresolved issues with them."

There was a silence in the car that was filled by the beeping of horns from behind us. "Green light," I said jabbing my finger towards the windscreen, "better get a move on hadn't you?"

"Nomi?" Emily said from the back, her hand reaching forward to rest on my arm, "You ok up there?"

"Fine," I said sitting back and allowing my pulse rate to drop as I breathed as calmly as I could, searching for my safe place in the midst of the chaos that my mind had descended into.

"You're not sounding fine babe, you're sounding anything but fine," she pressed, her hand gripping me tightly.

"I'll _be_ fine then," I replied my eyes scanning the traffic for danger as usual, "just as long as everyone stops taking cheap shots about me and flying."

"Won't say another word Miss Campbell," Darren said, his eyes fixed on the road avoiding mine as I looked across at him. "Sorry."

"Yeah, me too," I said not really feeling apologetic but knowing it was expected. "Let's just move on ok?"

We didn't speak again until we got to the office, Bonnie and Emily chatting away in the back. From the looks that Darren kept giving them in his rear view mirror, his head straining to change the angle, he was thinking the same thing I was; how long it was going to be before we got a bollocking from our respective 'other halves'. In my case it lasted until late in the afternoon, Emily sparing me until we were alone in her office. As I opened the door and looked inside as usual I was pushed inside and the door was slammed behind me.

"You! Sit!" Emily said pointing at the sofa that was my usual berth when I was in her office.

"I'd rather stand," I started to say before Emily cut me off.

"Sit down Naomi, please," she said exasperatedly, "we need to talk about what happened earlier."

"Oh all right," I said sitting down with a sigh, "get it over with then."

"Get what over with," she said to my surprise sitting down next to me and taking my hand.

"The telling off you're about to give me for snapping at Darren?" I suggested, wondering what was going on. I'd breached discipline and the least I deserved was a bawling out. "I assume that's what you want to talk about."

"No babe, I would like to talk about _why_ it happened, not what happened." Emily said softly, her hands encompassing mine. I was busily concentrating on how soft they felt that I nearly missed what she said.

"Huh?"

"I said we need to talk about _why_ you snapped at him love," she continued as my brain snapped back into gear. "It's not exactly in character for you."

"Actually, the keeping my gob shut is the out of character part Ems," I replied truthfully, my outspokenness at times often getting me into trouble; though normally I knew when I could afford to speak my mind.

"Whatever, that's not the point; the point is you freaked out Nomi and I didn't like it, you're normally so unflappable. Unless you're suffering from those nightmares and you haven't had one of those for a while now."

"I was tired of the jibes about flying," I said truthfully, "it seems like everyone, including you, wants to take cheap shots about it."

"I'm sorry baby," Emily said contritely, squeezing my hands, "it's not that we don't think it's more that we don't understand. You've got to remember baby we don't have the same experiences as you, you were right when you said to Darren that we can't imagine what you've been through…"

"I know that Ems," I interrupted before falling silent at her look.

"No Naomi, I mean it, we have no idea, and sometimes we might say stupid things that seem insensitive. I don't know how many things I might have said that might have offended you, but it's because I don't know ok?"

"I know," I said again; I did know as well, I'd bitten back comments on many occasions recently, usually whenever her sister or her husband opened their mouths and tried to be clever about my time in the army. "I don't mind normally, I do understand."

"So why did you lose your temper today baby?" Emily said asking the obvious question.

"Stress I guess," I admitted regretfully, "the flight, and the lack of sleep recently, I guess Darren just tapped into that when he thought he was being funny."

"I didn't know you hadn't been sleeping Nomi," Emily said with a frown, "I thought that was just me, why haven't you been sleeping again, don't tell me the nightmares are back and you've been hiding them from me. Is that it, have you been staying awake to push them away…?"

"No they're not back," I confirmed shaking my head emphatically, "and that's not what I've been doing. I've just been worried a lot, and I guess it's made my sleep a bit restless you know?"

"Worried? About what?" Emily asked making me smile despite myself.

"More about whom actually," I said leaning forward to kiss her forehead, "I don't think I've had a decent nights sleep for over a week."

"Then tonight you will," Emily said standing and hauling me to my feet. "I've done everything I can do for the day here, apart from read those files and I can do that at home. We're going back to the flat, and after a bit of a relax and a nice takeout you're going to bed; and if you can't sleep you're taking one of my tablets."

"I can't do that," I protested, "I need to be able to…"

"…wake up if needed," Emily finished for me, "yes I know. Then you need to call JJ on the way and get someone over to cover for you, in fact that might not be a bad idea anyway."

"But…"

"But nothing Naomi," she said in her 'that's final' voice, "I need you at your very best you know, personally _and_ professionally. If you need a good nights sleep to get you back to your best you're getting one; we can both take a tablet and crash out. So if you won't call JJ I will."

"Ok, ok…I'll call him and see what he can do," I said as she practically dragged me across the office to her desk towards the pile of files that Bonnie had left for her.

"You call JJ, and I'll call down for a car," she said reaching for her desk phone, "because you and I, my dear, are going home."

o+o+o

"It's good to be back," Emily said with a sigh, flopping down onto her favourite sofa and kicking off her shoes almost the second that we walked in. "I mean, I love being at the house with mum and everything, but it's so nice to be back at ours."

"Yeah," I said looking around the small flat that I now called home, my internal security sensors making sure everything was as it should be. As I did so, a question popped into my head that couldn't wait. I decided to carefully broach the subject.

"Ems, can I ask you something?"

"Guess so," she replied, "am I going to regret saying that?"

"Don't think so," I replied sitting down next to her and smiling as her feet immediately landed in my lap, her toes nudging me in her usual demand for a foot massage. "It's just something Katie said to me the other day, about your place…"

"What about _our_ place," she said pointedly; sighing as I kneaded away.

"Well, Katie said that the flat was a bolt hole for you, that it's where you went to get away from things, that you loved it because it was yours…yet you didn't have a single picture on display when I first came here, and you said you were never here. You said you were always at the house, or on business or something; I just wondered why Katie thought that."

"Because she's not really the dumb cow she makes out," Emily answered, and I could feel her tense as she did so; casually I moved my massaging from her foot to her leg. "She never really understood me, not totally, but she knows enough about me to be right occasionally."

"Well she seemed to be certain about that part of you anyway hun," I said soothingly, continuing to work on one leg after another in silence. "So, Ems, why did you tell me you're never here if Katie was right and this is your bolt hole?" I asked finally, voicing the question that had bugged me since the funeral.

"I don't know," she said relaxing once more, "I guess I wanted to just piss you off, you know? I was being the bitch and I had to be contrary to prove my point."

"What point was that hun?" I asked, wondering out loud.

"That it was my flat, it was my place, and I didn't need anyone's approval for it; least of all yours."

"I seem to recall I only said it was nice hun," I said with a grin and a tweak on her toe.

"It was more the way you were looking around the place Nomi," Emily said, "I didn't know what you were doing back then so I thought you were, well…well I don't know what I thought you were doing, I just didn't feel comfortable that's all."

"What was I doing?" I asked racking my brains and coming up with a big fat blank.

"You were checking out the place babe, you do it everywhere you go, I don't even think you realise you do it. But that first morning, with everything that had gone before, and how bossy you'd been; and how mixed up I was feeling about you, well it sort of annoyed me and I wanted to make you feel awkward so I kind of lied about everything, I'm sorry."

"You know, sometimes you can be a right muppet," I told her, allowing my fingers to drift under her skirt and tickle the back of her knee; grinning as her foot twitched involuntarily.

"Well I'm not alone," she said pouting and tapping me with her foot impatiently; thankfully I was saved by a knock at the door and with a wink I slipped from under her outstretched legs and went to the front door, picking up her tiny can of pepper spray from the hall dresser as I peered out through the spy hole. I didn't need it though, looking back at me was the tousled hair of my old LT.

"I'm not interested in buying from door to door salespeople," I said as I opened the door on the chain, my foot planted firmly against the bottom just in case.

"Well it's just as well ma'am because I'm collecting for charity," JJ said, giving me the agreed response and I opened the door to let him in.

"I thought you were sending one of the boys over," I said as I took his jacket and hung it up for him, gesturing for him to go through to the living room.

"Hey JJ," Emily said as he walked in, getting up to give him a hug. "Thank you for coming over, she's being a pain again."

"What?" I said as I stood in the doorway my arms folded, "I'm just trying to do my job."

"Sarge," JJ replied with a sigh, "I know you well enough to know that you 'doing your job' can involve you working yourself to the point of exhaustion. Which is why I assume Miss Fitch forced you to call me."

"I never said that…" I started, only to be halted in my tracks by a raised eyebrow from the LT and a snigger from Emily.

"Oh fuck you both backwards," I said as they grinned at me like feline quadrupeds from a county in North West England.

"Well it was rather obvious Sarge," JJ said as I sat down, "I may not know you as well as I used to, but the odds of you calling me to ask for someone to come over and cover for you, especially while you are at home with Miss Fitch, without being prompted by her or someone else to do so; are, I am afraid to say, frankly very, very slim indeed."

"Breathe JJ," Emily said with an awed look on her face. "I think you managed to make that all one sentence."

"Sorry," the LT said blushing slightly, "I developed a bit of a condition after, well that's not important, but it was quite unlikely that Naomi here would have called without your intervention Miss Fitch."

"Fucks sake JJ sit down and stop calling me Miss Fitch," Emily said with a smile, waving at the other sofa. "I'm sure I've told you that before. Naomi darling, a cup of tea would be fantastic while you're up."

"Though I was supposed to be getting some rest," I murmured as I swung myself off the wall and walked into the kitchen, my arms still folded tightly across my chest.

"Oh and if you can bring through the menu for Antonio's that would be brilliant baby," she called, amusement in her voice, "I'm sure JJ would like to order something for dinner."

"Yes Miss Fitch," I called out in my best subservient voice, "Right away Miss Fitch."

"Thank you Miss Campbell," Emily called back as I turned on the tap to fill the kettle, placing it on the gas hob to boil. For all their teasing I allowed myself a small feeling of relief, I was totally exhausted and my mind was slowing down. Having JJ here as back up would allow me to switch off at least one part of my brain, though whether the one that worried about Emily, the upcoming trips and the complexities of our relationship would allow me to sleep was a different matter.

After a pretty good meal, courtesy of Emily's favourite Italian restaurant, I found myself on the sofa my eyes closing despite it being a little after eight; though having Emily sitting behind me slowly running her hand through my hair was making the whole falling asleep thing much easier. I was dimly aware of a faint conversation about the trip to Iraq, but despite myself I couldn't bring my brain to focus. I guess I'd hit the point where pushing myself was no longer an option and finally I allowed myself to relax fully.

"Naomi," Emily whispered tapping me on the shoulder, "why don't you go to bed love, you're clearly shattered."

"I'm fine Ems, quite happy where I am thanks," I told her, tipping back my head from where it was lying on her lap to look up at her. "Where's JJ?"

"He's on the phone to his wife," she said with a smile, "and has been for the last half and hour or so; you've been fast asleep my dear. I wouldn't have disturbed you but my legs have gone to sleep in sympathy with you."

I lifted my arm and stared at my watch, goggling at the fact that it was now half past nine; I seemed to have lost an hour somewhere, I was obviously more relaxed than I thought lying there.

"You coming too?" I asked, deciding it was better to give in to how I was feeling rather than try to fight it again.

"Yeah, in a minute or two, you locked up after dinner arrived didn't you? I'll just wait up so I can tell JJ he's in the spare room tonight."

"My room," I said with a smile as I dragged myself off the sofa, my muscles protesting at the sudden movement.

"Whatever, now give me a kiss and go and warm the bed up for me, I'll be there in a minute."

"Yes ma'am," I said bending down to kiss her goodnight, "but you can warm your own side of the bed up, I don't think I'm going to be capable of much more than flopping down and falling asleep."

"Fair enough, go to bed Naomi; love you."

"Love you too Ems," I said leaning down to kiss her again, "goodnight."

o+o+o

I didn't need a tablet that night, nor actually for any of the following nights of the whirlwind trip that followed Rob Fitch's funeral. After waving goodnight to JJ who was stood talking quietly into his phone in the kitchen, I climbed into bed and from the second my head hit the pillow I was away; my insomnia seemingly a thing of the past in my exhausted state.

I didn't even feel Emily coming to bed, such was the depth of my sleep; and when, in the morning, I found her wrapped around me, I was thankful for her foresight in making me call JJ. If I didn't wake when my girlfriend came to bed, I was hardly a good guard dog. I was usually a really light sleeper, though perhaps that was a part of the problem.

Still I was feeling one hundred percent better when the alarm went off and I woke to Emily's arms wrapped around me, her leg thrown casually across mine. As I reached out to turn off the incessant bleeping a small hand stretched out to stop it in its tracks.

"Put it on snooze baby," Emily whispered sleepily, we can spare another ten minutes, and I'm warm and comfy."

Obligingly I jabbed at the snooze button until the alarm ended its head hurting claxon. Leaning back I was wrapped up in a warm embrace once again.

"Good sleep babe?" Emily murmured planting a kiss on my shoulder and pulling me close.

"I think so," I said fluffing the duvet over the pair of us properly, "I don't seem to remember anything past turning off the light."

"Must have been good then," she sniggered into my shoulder blade, "because when I came to bed the light was still on, and you were dead to the world. Did you take one of those tablets before you tuned in?"

"Nope," I said snuggling back, loving the feel of her naked body against mine. "Didn't need to take one I don't think."

"Seems not," she giggled, "I could have let off a bomb in here and I don't think you'd have noticed."

"Let's not joke about bombs please hun," I said with a yawn, "not this early in the morning anyway." I got a kiss on my back as a reply and with that we dozed happily until the alarm kicked in once more to ruin the peace.

It was pretty much the last moment of calm that Emily and I got as the week of mad meetings began. Friday's meeting with some stuffy fucker from the MOD dragged on and on seemingly endlessly, yet finally Emily came away happy; apart from the fact that we'd missed our early flight to the States.

Saturday saw us in Dallas, red eyed and knackered after changing flights three times to make it there on time. Sunday found us in LA and to my surprise we had not one but three meetings organised. I thought that it being a Sunday people would be reluctant to meet, but in the cut and thrust world of international arms dealing, it looked like weekends weren't important. Though I guess it didn't hurt that Fitch Industries were paying for some pretty nice meals in some pretty expensive restaurants. The only things I had to deal with, was not getting to join in the food fest, and having to listen to Emily complaining all the way to South East Asia about how her figure was suffering after three big meals.

It wasn't suffering at all from what I could see; it was still as trim as ever.

Not that I got much of a chance to look at it that was; by the time you took meetings and flights into account, our time together, in bed or not, was much reduced. In fact for the three days that we flitted about in Asia we spent more time sleeping on planes that we did in hotels. By the end of it Emily was looking a little bit worse for wear, and I don't think I was looking much better.

"I'll be glad when this fucking trip is over," she said to me on Thursday morning, climbing out of the shower on our way to yet one more meeting in yet one more shiny air conditioned building. "I don't know about you but I am sick to death of travelling right now."

I could totally sympathise, if I was totally honest I didn't have a clue where the fuck we were, just one more city on a seemingly endless itinerary that was constantly being updated by Emily's team in London. My lack of interest in where we were was fuelled mostly by tiredness, I'd been on constant watch since Friday morning, and I'd not even been sleeping well on the planes, grabbing naps wherever I could to keep going.

Still, things were going well, and despite her tiredness Emily was a happy girl; and a happy Emily made for a happy Sarge.

After today we had one more place to go, a quick trip to New Delhi for a series of meetings with both the Border Security Force that had started all the threats, and with officials from the Indian Army about the deal that was ongoing. Friday was going to be a very busy day; and if we were lucky, Saturday was going to be spent fast asleep.

Overall it had been a mad week, a very mad week, but from my position a successful one. By the time we landed back in dirty old London we had travelled right the way around the globe, been to city after city and travelled in planes, cars, and minibuses and in all that time I had not even seen a hint of danger.

Someone once said that a great plan never survives first contact with the enemy; that being the case I was delighted that all of the plans that JJ and the team had put in place for us had worked perfectly. Despite what people think, soldiers love things like that, I did anyway; as exciting as combat could be, getting home in once piece was by far the best part.

o+o+o

"Home, finally," Emily sighed as she flopped onto the bed in her little flat, not even bothering to unpack. "I think I could sleep for a week."

"Me too," I agreed as I performed my ritual of walking from room to room, checking that there was nothing out of place and everything was safe and sound. It was a little after three in the morning and despite my tiredness I wasn't taking any chances.

"So where the hell are you then?" Ems called out as I latched the front door and switched off the hall light, padding silently to the bedroom. "Come to bed!"

"I'm coming," I said peeling off my travelling clothes and crinkling my nose at the aroma that I was emitting, half a day on a plane flying home, business class or not, did not make for a heavenly scent. Frankly I smelt like a wet dog and I was in desperate need of a shower.

"Where you going?" Emily said from her position on the bed, "I thought you were coming to bed?"

"In a second Ems," I replied walking into the bathroom and running the tap filling the sink with warm water. "I need a bit of a wash first, or the smell will keep us both awake."

"That sounds like a good idea," Emily said appearing behind me as I gave myself a quick all over wash. "After you."

"All yours," I said grabbing a towel and drying myself off, looking around for the can of deodorant that I knew was in here. One quick spray and I was feeling cleaner and smelling sweeter and I was more than ready for bed.

"That was actually a great idea," Emily said as she took the towel from me and patted herself down.

"Yeah, trick I learnt in the army hun," I told her. "It's a fast way of passing muster. I wish I could be bothered having a shower but I don't want to get my hair wet tonight."

"Exactly," she agreed tossing the towel onto the laundry pile and grabbing my spray, "but I'm glad you don't smell anymore babe, because I want a cool bed and a hot girl to give me a cuddle."

"Got anyone in mind?" I asked yawning loudly.

"Yeah, but she's not here so you'll have to do," she replied yawning in sympathy with me. "Come to bed Nomi, I want that cuddle."

"Yes Ma'am," I replied as she led me back into the bedroom and the cool cotton sheets, "happy to oblige."

o+o+o

"What the hell?"

I was dragged form a particularly nice dream of a bright white tropical beach, and a dark tanned redhead in a tiny bikini, by the voice of that very redhead calling out in disgust. As I surfaced I could hear a knocking at the door and felt Emily get out of bed.

"What you doing Ems?" I said as I glanced at the clock, staring at the numbers in disgust.

"Getting the door," she replied pulling on her purple dressing gown.

"Woah there," I said, shaking my head to clear out the fog, we'd had about four hours sleep max and after the week we had had, I felt like I needed at least another fourteen to get back into fighting trim. Still it was a good thing, I could probably do with getting some cover in again if I was going to crash out properly.

"What?" Emily snapped back at me before apologising quickly. "Sorry Nomi, I'm just tired still that's all. What's the matter?"

"_I_ get the door love," I said getting up and grabbing my own robe, pulling it on as I kissed her forehead. "You stay here for a second until I know it's safe."

"That's my Nomi, always on duty," she teased, grabbing the lapels of my robe and pulling me back for a proper kiss.

"Absolutely, but not when I go back to bed," I said as I slipped away. "I might need JJ again to cover; I plan to enter a coma again and not get out of bed until tomorrow lunchtime!"

"Sounds like a plan," I heard from our room as I walked out into the hall, putting my eye to the spyglass and getting the shock of my life.

"Jenna," I said as I opened the door on the chain, my foot placed as usual, "everything ok?"

"Yes thank you dear, I hate to disturb you both, but I need to talk to Emily; is she awake?"

"She is," I said glancing at, and around, her for signs of danger; seeing nothing I slipped the chain off the door and braced myself just in case.

"Where's Richard?" I asked frowning as I closed the door on an empty hallway. Her CPO should be with her, not absent without leave.

"Right now, probably in the lift heading downstairs. It's all right Naomi dear I was quite safe so I sent him to keep watch in the foyer, though I have told him not to follow your example and sit out on the street."

I flushed slightly at her playful jibe only to get a reassuring pat on my shoulder as I put the extra latches over once more. "Where is my daughter Naomi, don't tell me she's still in bed?"

"I am not, though I _was_ mum," Emily said appearing in the hallway, towelling dry her face, "you know we didn't get home until three this morning?"

"Oh I didn't dear," Jenna said looking ashamed, "I thought you were supposed to be home last night, not this morning."

"We got delayed," I said gesturing for them both to go through to the living room. "Would anyone like a cup of tea?"

After getting a drinks order I vanished into the kitchen, making myself scarce whilst mother and daughter chatted. I could hear brief snippets of conversation as I flitted about, but nothing that made sense, I simply assumed that Jenna wanted a debrief on Emily's trip; but why it couldn't have waited until a reasonable hour I had no clue, especially on a Saturday morning.

"Tea," I said as I carried the tray into the room, wondering why the conversation stopped as I entered, "and a fresh pot of coffee for you Jenna."

"Thank you dear," Jenna said reaching out to pour a cup, "and let me apologise for waking you, I really needed to drop some bits off with Emily and find out how her trip went, I have a flight to Paris at lunchtime, Colin and I have decided to take our first official holiday together."

"That's nice," I replied passing Emily her cup and pouring my own, "supposed to be a very romantic place."

"Have you never been?" Emily asked stifling a yawn, I smiled and shook my head.

"Amy wanted to go, but it wasn't really my kind of place, all stuffy art galleries and overpriced coffee shops with stuck up waiters and pretentious French wankers who treat you like…."

I paused for a second realising that the two of them were looking at me amusedly, stupidly I realised just how we had got into this conversation.

"Guess there's no point in taking _you_ to Paris then," Ems said with a wink to her mother. "Another romantic holiday destination scuppered."

"Speaking of which," Jenna interrupted winking at me, the similarity to her daughter striking; "you are both officially off the clock the second I leave this flat and I don't want any arguments from you Emily Fitch. You both deserve a holiday and _neither_ of you are paying for it. It's my treat, sign everything to the company Emily, I know your father wouldn't let you do that, but _he_ did it often enough and I want to extend you the same courtesy."

"But mum," Emily started to say only to be silenced with a hand.

"Enough Emily, I've just sent you right around the world to keep our business on a sound footing; which it appears you have done wonderfully as usual. This is an executive reward, and I won't hear otherwise."

"But that's not right mum, we've agreed that…"

"Enough Emily, I will pay for it and that is the end of it." Jenna said with a smile and a raised hand.

"Is it all sorted then?" Emily asked cryptically, and I assumed that whatever Emily was planning Jenna was well in on it.

"Of course it is dear," Jenna replied with a wink, confirming my suspicious. "Now, tell me about that deal with the Indian Army, how is that coming along? Did you at least have a successful meeting..?"

I excused myself after I finished my drink, collecting up the tray and taking it out to do the washing up. I was giving serious thoughts to the security for our little holiday when I heard Jenna call out from the hallway.

"Naomi, I'm done with my daughter, come here and give me a hug."

"I don't do hugging Mrs Fitch," I shouted back, listening to the laughter from the hallway.

"Well come and shake hands then," Jenna continued as I dried my hands on a tea towel. Casually I walked out of the kitchen and was immediately hugged.

"Have a great holiday and look after my daughter Naomi," Jenna said as she crushed the life out of me and kissed me on the cheek. "Try to enjoy yourself ok?"

"I'll try, to all three," I said rolling my eyes at a grinning Emily. "Have a good time in Paris."

"Oh I will," she said releasing me and hugging her daughter, "I most certainly will."

Emily and I lay slumped on the sofa after Jenna left, a fresh pot of tea on the table in front of us, totally undisturbed and probably stone cold.

"I want to go back to bed," Emily said yawning.

"So why don't you?" I replied, running my hand through her hair as she lay on top of me staring at the ceiling, "we're on holiday remember?"

"True," she replied sighing, "but if I go back to bed now I won't go to sleep tonight and we have to get up early tomorrow."

"We do?" I said, somewhat surprised, "but tomorrow's Sunday, I thought we had no plans."

"We do now," Emily said leaning back to look up at me, "we have to get up early so we can leave for our holiday, it's going to take a while to get there, and I want to spend as much time there as I can. From what mum's just told me I'm going to need it."

"I take it there is more travelling in our future?" I said with a mental shake of my head.

"Not exactly," Ems said rolling over and looking up at me, eyes dulled with tiredness. "I told you we would be going back to India but it looks like we're off to Iraq when we come back instead, mum said the meeting went well while I was, you know, dad."

I nodded, not wanting to bring up the funeral any more than she did. "That's good though isn't it?" I asked, "I know you thought you might lose out on the opportunity by not being there."

"Yeah," Emily replied, snuggling into me as I wrapped my arms around her back. "It is, but it's still a bit scary."

"Well JJ has everything in place hun," I said reassuringly, giving her a squeeze. "Everything will go smoothly I'm sure, no point in worrying about it."

"I guess," she replied shifting herself around until she could kiss me, her chin nudging aside my robe until she found bare flesh.

"So then, back to bed?" I asked, thinking longingly of those cool cotton sheets.

"As long as we don't sleep in too late," she said meaningfully, slipping off me and standing up; holding out her hand.

"Tell you what," I said as she pulled me to my feet, "if we're going off on our mysterious holiday tomorrow why don't you let me treat you to an afternoon at that spa, get Frank to sort out our hair and have a bit of fun?"

"Franco," Emily corrected with a smile, "and that sounds lovely, I'll treat us to dinner somewhere then, make a day of it."

"Well then," I said looking at the clock, "let me see if I can call in a favour and get us booked in; then bed!"

"I like the sound of bed," Emily said hugging me as I took my phone out of the pocket of my robe.

"Well I meant to sleep Ems," I said with a smile as her hands slipped under my robe.

"Unfortunately," she said ruefully pressing her flesh against mine, "so did I."

o+o+o

Sunday morning brought with it new life at casa Fitch, the pair of us surfacing with renewed vigour. I'm not one for the luxuries of life, but I have to say that Emily took to the spa like a duck to water. I might not be into all the massages, and clay wraps and all that shit the way she was, but I did enjoy using their wonderful pool; it was certainly a hell of a lot warmer than the pool at Fitch Manor, and a hell of a lot cleaner too if I was honest.

Frank had been at his flamboyant best when Emily finally deigned to get off the massage bench and head into the salon for our appointment. It was late in the day when we went in, and even later when we finally got out, blonde and red rescued by his masterful use of bleach and dye. It felt strange looking at myself with longer blonde hair, it wasn't as long as it had been when first I ventured into 'Franco's', but it was certainly longer than what I'd been left with. I actually liked what he'd done this time, it made me feel a bit more like the old me; though Emily kept telling me that my hair hadn't grown out that much in the time I'd been with her.

"It looks almost the same," she had said as she saw me checking myself out in the X5's mirror while we sat at traffic lights, "and by that I mean really nice."

"Well that's good," I'd joked, "I'd hate you to be disappointed by _my_ hair. Yours is looking stupendous by the way; love that new shade of red he used."

"It's great isn't it?" She'd said fluffing her hair out with a smile the size of the Dartford tunnel.

"Stunning," I'd concurred, risking a glance as we drove through London's streets on our way to food, my stomach telling me it was more than time. "Wish he could do that with my hair, he somehow manages to make yours look so much thicker; mine always looks a bit, well, lank."

"It's not lank, it's lovely," she'd protested, "I love it when you straighten it out like that, it looks fantastic."

"Well I'm just glad he didn't cut it right back again," I'd said ruefully as we pulled into the endless traffic jam once more. "I really wasn't sure about that first cut."

"That's rich coming from someone that talked about shaving it all off," she'd said with a grin, "Franco's face when you said that you wanted a number one all over was priceless."

"Well we _are_ going to Iraq, it's going to be hot; I could do with an appropriate haircut for it."

"Don't you dare," she'd replied frowning. "I like your hair just how it is, it suits you."

"That's what my ex used to tell me," I'd replied with a smile, "she liked my hair too, my old hair that is."

"Well it is one of your best features babes," Emily replied reaching out a hand to touch my hair gently, careful not to affect my driving. "Your ex may be a total bitch but she did have great taste."

"Um, you didn't know her," I'd replied thinking back to her flat, styled head to toe in Laura Ashley style chintz.

"Well, no I didn't," she'd replied with a sigh. "But she must have had great taste."

"Why's that," I'd asked as I hauled the beemer around a sharp bend, swearing at the directions on the screen under my breath as I did so.

"You really are thick sometimes Nomi, you know that," Emily had replied, laughing and placing her hand on mine as I rested it on the gear stick.

"Me?" I'd said acting incredulous, "I'll have you know I'm anything but thick, it's you…you're too flaming cryptic sometimes."

"Your ex must have had great taste," Emily'd continued, patting my hand in an avuncular fashion, "because she used to date you."

"Does that mean you have great taste as well," I'd replied trying to avoid blushing at her backhanded compliment.

"Well naturally, wait until you see where we're going for dinner it'll end any doubts you might have."

"I don't have any doubts," I'd told her, "I know how much you like your food to take me anywhere rubbish."

"Cheeky," she'd replied slapping my hand and laughing. "Just drive Campbell, before you make me grumpy."

"Grumpier?"

"Just drive!"

She hadn't been lying about the restaurant, another one of her quiet places that were far off the beaten track but had excellent food. To my surprise this place didn't have a theme, or indeed a menu; we were seated and after a friendly chat with the waiter we were brought drinks and starters that the chef thought we would enjoy. It was refreshing to just be given food rather than pick it, and the adventurous part of me thought it rather exciting to try and work out what the flavour combinations were.

After a fantastic meal, that I hadn't fathomed the depths of, I drove us back to the flat; taking a slightly circuitous route at Emily's insistence.

"I don't want to go straight home," she'd said as we put on our seat belts, "can't we take a detour, just enjoy the evening?"

"We can if you want," I'd said dubiously, "where do you want to go?"

"I don't care babes, give me a tour of the M25 if you want. I just don't want to go home right now, we're on holiday and apart from an early start tomorrow there's nothing to keep us from staying out all night."

"There's that early start again," I sniffed as I pulled away from the parking space and out into the night, "why won't you just tell me where we're going?"

"Because then it won't be a surprise," she'd teased sticking her tongue out at me, "give it up Nomi, our destination is on a need to know basis, and right now you don't need to know."

"Yes ma'am, fancy a walk somewhere?"

"As long as it's somewhere safe; and well lit," she'd replied fiddling with my iPhone in its cradle looking for something to listen to.

"Trust me," I said feeling a little hurt, only to have my heart lifted by her unconsciously lovely reply.

"Always love," she'd said absently, jabbing at the screen impatiently, "with my life."

o+o+o

"Emily, I cannot believe you got me up this early and you still aren't ready," I said as she leaned on the top of her suitcase trying to zip it closed. I got a stern look by way of reply and slowly I began to back out of the bedroom in search of safety.

"…and just where do you think _you're_ going?" Emily said as I almost reached the door. Her voice was stern but there was a twinkle in her eye that told me that her hard stare wasn't totally serious. I didn't for one second think it was, after all we _were_ going on holiday.

"I was going to, go over there and do something useful dear," I said feigning nervousness as I pretended to wither under her glare.

"Well come over here and do something useful instead," she replied crooking her finger at me.

"With pleasure love," I said with a smile, walking over her expecting a hug.

"Carry that into the hallway for me would you?" she said skipping past me and patting my arm as she left; leaving me to sigh ruefully and stare at the over packed case. With a grunt I lifted it from the bed and carried it out into the hallway to stand next to my, slightly lighter, case.

"One second to brush my hair and I'll be ready baby," Emily called out as she walked behind me and back into the bedroom again. Rolling my eyes I walked around the flat making sure everything was off and that all the windows were locked tightly; finding everything to my satisfaction I walked back into the hallway to find Emily staring at me.

"Quite finished?" she said with a grin, leaning up to kiss me as I walked over to grab the cases. I nodded as she released me and reached out to grab my case only to find a smaller hand already on the handle.

"Seeing as you're carrying mine babe, I thought I'd take yours for you," she said with a smug grin.

"So generous as well as so pretty," I said as I lifted the handle of her case to full extension, being damned if I was going to actually carry it any further than I had to.

"Aw, thanks; ready?"

"Whenever you are."

I set the alarm and pulled the door to behind me making sure the locks were secure before turning to see Emily waiting by the lift doors.

"Just because we're on holiday doesn't mean you take risks," I told her disapprovingly, raising an eyebrow at her position in front of the doors.

"Sorry Sarge," she said stepping to the side, waiting out of sight of the doors just in case. I took up position on the other side and waited, glancing in when the doors finally opened.

"Basement?" Emily said, her finger hovering over the button that would take us to the flats private car park.

"Yeah," I nodded watching as she pressed the button and stepped back turning away from me slightly.

"So are you going to tell me where we're going yet?" I said as I watched her fluff her immaculate hair, staring at her reflection.

"No," she replied, our eyes meeting via the mirrored wall. "It is strictly need to know, remember?"

"I'm going to need to know pretty soon Ems, if you want me to drive us somewhere it sort of helps."

"I'm going to program your sat nav while you put away our cases babe, that way I can keep my secret a bit longer."

That's exactly what happened too and not for the first time in our relationship I'd bottled out of pressing her for information, of turning on my investigators skills and digging out the information I wanted to know.

Emily Fitch had made me soft, still it didn't hurt to allow her this little secret, it was harmless and it obviously amused her, judging by the broad grin on her face as she sat in the passenger seat and typed away. It was nice to see her this relaxed, I thought to myself as I lifted her heavy case into the boot and squared it away. She'd been through an awful lot over the last month, what with the death of her father and then the travelling; she needed to relax, her mother was right.

"No peeking Nomi," she said blocking the screen with her body as I glanced through the open hatch. I smiled to myself, she was enjoying teasing me, and I was enjoying letting her. I made it my vow to make this holiday the best she had ever had. I just hoped we were going somewhere really hot and sunny, call me a letch but I was looking forward to seeing my girl walking along a sunny beach, clad in nothing but a tiny bikini; I knew the reality would be far better than the dream.

"So then, are you going to at least give me a hint where am I going," I said as I climbed into the drivers seat and started the engine of my X5.

"Follow the Sat Nav," she said cryptically, obviously intent on maintaining the air of mystery until the bitter end.

"Can you give me a general idea?" I asked looking at the time on the screen and seeing that the destination was over ten hours away, knowing that wherever we were going it was going to be a long way from London. "There's no reception for the GPS down here so I'll need a rough direction until it kicks in."

"Oh that's good," she replied with a huge smile. "Well played, for your information we're heading for the motorway first

"Which way," I asked digging a bit harder, though suspecting that she wasn't going to give too much away, the game still being played out between us.

"North," she replied and my brain put two and two together; Scotland, I thought instantly, were going to bloody Scotland.


	62. Cabin Fever

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –**I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness, and a still lingering case of writers block.

I still have nothing to do with Skins, but then do we care about Skins any more?

**Chapter 62 – Cabin Fever**

"Are we _there_ yet?" Emily whined in her best baby voice as we drove along the winding road after a long day of driving.

"You tell me," I replied somewhat huffily, not really appreciating her taking the piss like that, "Some of us _still_ don't know where they're going."

It was true as well, after ten hours in the saddle, only stopping for comfort breaks and food along the way, I still hadn't found out where we were supposed to be staying; all I knew was that we were in the highlands of Scotland, and that we were well off the beaten track. I hadn't seen another vehicle for about three quarters of an hour, and a decent sized village for even longer.

"It's not far now actually," Emily said stretching out and resting her hand on my thigh, "we're nearly there."

"It's about time," I replied with a sense of relief, "this better be worth it Emily Fitch, my arse has gone totally numb sitting here all day, and my legs are killing me."

"Aw babe, it'll be worth it I promise you," she said squeezing. "It's going to be one week of solid honest to goodness relaxation."

"I'll need it after this journey," I muttered, glancing at the screen on the dash and seeing that the distance to destination had ticked all the way down to five miles. Five short miles to wherever it was we were going; I couldn't wait, I wasn't lying about my arse going numb, as luxurious as my new car was, and it wasn't somewhere I wanted to spend an entire day.

Still it was better than flying, and after the endurance event that was the last time we'd travelled anywhere together I was convinced it was _far_ better than flying.

o+o+o

A couple of minutes later Emily was waving at me frantically, and demanding that I pull over into a small lay-by at the side of the road.

"Why?" I asked as she pointed towards the side of the road.

"Because I want to show you my surprise properly," she replied excitedly. "You're going to love it, especially now."

"Now?" I asked as I pulled to a halt and yanked on the handbrake. "What's so special about now?"

"You'll see," she said enigmatically; reaching into her bag and pulling out a scarf. "Or rather you won't, not until I'm ready for you to see it anyway."

"You've got to be kidding," I said incredulously as I realised what she meant. "No way!"

"Nomi, please," Emily said with a smile, "indulge me?"

"Oh alright then if it means that much to you," I said turning off the engine. "But if I break my leg _you're_ carrying me to the bloody hospital."

Moments later the world was dark, and I was being led down what felt like a woodland floor, all ferns and bits of bark underfoot, catching in my trainers. With my sight taken away I instinctively allowed my other senses to take over. I could feel a cool breeze drifting past my face, a faint smell of damp grass that was only slightly obscured by the scent of Emily's perfume as she led me through the woods down to what smelt like water.

"This will be perfect," I heard her say as my brain tried to process the myriad of things it was getting from the environment around us. I could tell we were in a clearing of sorts, the sound subtly different to how it had been as we walked. I could smell and hear the sound of water and wind and blissful, blissful silence.

Wherever the hell we were I could feel myself relaxing, wherever we were I knew it was going to be good.

"Ready babe?" Emily said her hands on my hips shuffling me around.

"Whenever you are," I replied taking a deep breath.

"Close your eyes then love," she whispered, her hands reaching up to remove the blindfold. "No peeking now."

"No peeking Ems," I promised with a laugh as the improvised blindfold was removed from my eyes and her arms slipped around my waist.

"You can open your eyes now Nomi."

Slowly I did just that, blinking slightly as I found I was staring into the evening sun, being carefully positioned by Ems to ensure that I would get that "perfect" view. As she hugged me from behind I tried to take in the sight she had presented me with. We were stood at the head of a small lake, or 'loch' as I should probably call it given where we were, the sun was beginning to set over the far end, sinking down towards some tree covered hills; it was, quite simply, stunning.

"Nice," I managed to say, the word totally unsatisfactory for the view. "Really nice."

"Do you like it?" Ems said as she snuggled herself impossibly further into my back. "This is where we're going to spend the week. I thought it would be nice to get away from it all, somewhere secluded you know? Private."

"Yeah, I like it," I murmured as I spotted the cabin that was nestled against the shoreline, set back slightly amongst the trees. "I like it a lot."

"I'm glad," she said with a relieved sounding sigh, "'cause it's a pretty long drive to anywhere else if you hate it."

"I don't hate it," I said turning around and slipping my arms around her, "I don't hate it at all."

"Worth all the secrecy then?" Ems asked looking up at me.

"Yeah, I'll forgive you the secrecy, and that drive; it was worth it…like you promised."

It cost me nothing to concede the truth, but it got me a pleased smile from my girl, a pleased smile and a soft kiss as the sun continued to set behind us bathing the land in a warm orange glow

"Want to get settled in?" Emily asked finally as we broke apart. "It's getting late and we should really get unpacked and think about something to eat."

I nodded my agreement, biting back a comment about her and food, and reluctantly allowed her to lead me away from the loch and back through the woods to the car.

"You'll need to back up a bit babe," Emily said after we had buckled ourselves in again. "Or probably turn around; the entrance to the cabin is about half a mile back the way we came, it's a bit of a shit path too, but we like it like that, stops the unwanted visitors."

"You own this place?" I said a little bit shocked.

"No, well not really," she said laughing as I turned the truck around; following her directions to the concealed dirt road. "I think dad wanted to buy it and use it as a hunting and fishing lodge; you know, expand it and use it to impress some of the stuck up fuckers we do business with. The owners didn't want to sell it though, they prefer to keep it exactly how it is and rent it out, so we'd hire it for a season or so whenever we needed it. If we weren't using it we'd let people come up here, friends, family, favoured people at work that kind of thing, Bonnie and Darren have been up here for a long weekend and said it was beautiful; in fact it was Bonnie that suggested this place when I was wondering where we should go when we got back, so I asked mum if she would see if it was free for me because she gets on really well with the owners. She e-mailed me while we were away and told me it was all sorted, all we needed to do then was make sure the caretakers had got it ready for guests, and that's what she told me yesterday."

"So now _we_ get it for a week," I said turning on the headlights to work my way down the tree covered narrow track. "That works for me, I take it we have some supplies there, otherwise you're more than likely going hungry…I'm shit at fishing."

"Of course we have," Emily said laughing, "as if I would forget that. Mum arranged for the caretakers to deliver a load of supplies for us this morning. We'll have food and drink waiting for us, everything we need really. All we need to do is top up the generator every now and again. If we run out of anything we'll just have to do a day trip somewhere, but I thought that might be fun to do anyway, if you're up for it that is. Other than that, we don't have to do anything else for the rest of the week; we're all alone."

"Sounds like heaven," I replied as we pulled up to the front of the cabin, "where do you want me to park the bus?"

"There's a barn over there," she said pointing. "It's where the generator and the other bits are stored; put it in there and then, unless we want to take a trip, we can forget about it for the rest of our stay."

"Good plan." I replied, following her finger over to a wooden building that was tucked away to one side. Pulling up in front of it Emily pulled out a small remote control and pointed it at the doors, which swung upon smoothly.

With the BMW parked, locked, and hidden away, I carried our bags over to the cabin, Emily practically skipping alongside me. It was funny to see her this excited about her little treat, and despite my tiredness and the beginnings of hunger, it was hard not to get caught up in it.

"Welcome to our little retreat," Emily said as she opened the door to the cabin, ignoring my request to let me check the place out first; shushing my protests almost before they got out of my mouth.

"Nice," I said as I walked inside, dragging Emily's heavy case behind me. It seemed that superlatives were escaping me today as I repeated my less than eloquent appreciation of the cabin. I was expecting it to be another example of Fitch luxury, all expensive equipment and fancy furniture. What I saw was, at first glance at least, simplicity at its best, a huge log fire built into the centre of the room, some simple, comfortable looking furniture and nestled on the sideboard a dock for an iPod; the only nod towards technology that I could see in the room.

"I thought you'd like it," Emily said simply, slipping her head under my arm and wrapping her own around me. "Mum said that it was very isolated up here; no phone and no mobile signal worth shit, nothing to disturb us at all. We're almost completely cut off from the world."

I had a small panic at the thought of no phone signal and quickly grabbed my mobile from my pocket and looked at it. Thankfully it was showing that I had one bar of signal, so I knew I could at least get an emergency call out if I needed one. The trouble was, according to Emily we were as far from civilisation as I had thought we were; if we got into trouble we were on our own, this made me feel just a little bit unsettled and it must have shown.

"We'll be fine Nomi," Emily told me, resting her hand on my arm reassuringly, "stop worrying. No-one knows we're here apart from my family and JJ; oh and mum has arranged for a couple of things to be left for you, just in case."

Emily pointed over towards a wall at my raised eyebrow and I saw a cabinet with what looked like a couple of hunting rifles and a set of shotguns. As I nodded thoughtfully, Emily's hand left my side and dangled a key out in front of me.

"We'll put this somewhere out of the way I think," she said hiding it in her fist when I went to grab it. "No playing with guns on this holiday love, I want you all to myself this time."

"This time?" I asked as I took in the rest of the cabin, a few doors led off from the main room and there was a set of wooden steps leading up to another door.

"America? Duh!" Emily laughed squeezing me tightly, "you cheated on me with all those guns remember? All that time we lost while you were training, we could have had a _lot_ more fun in that hotel room of ours."

"Oh yeah," I replied pulling her around me and holding her tight. "I cheated on you with the toys _you_ bought me and did all that training at _your_ insistence."

"Well this time I insist that you do nothing but relax with me Miss Campbell; oh and cook and make tea and stuff like that."

"So be your servant then?" I teased, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

"Sounds good to me baby," she said her hands lifting to grip my hair as she pulled me back down to kiss her properly. I had the perfect answer ready, but I was in no hurry to deliver it; waiting instead until she stepped down from her tiptoes and leaned back to look at me, a smile on her lips.

"Dream on Fitch," I said finally, causing her smile to broaden even more. "Dream fucking on."

o+o+o

I got the guided tour of the cabin in record time; my iPhone plugged into yet another Bose sounddock providing us with some background music as we unpacked. I was pleased to see that the rustic nature of the cabin didn't carry on into the kitchen or the main bathroom; both surprisingly well equipped much to my relief. In addition to the main room, and the kitchen and dining room, there were two guest bedrooms on the ground floor, both with their own stove heaters to keep them warm and their own en-suite shower rooms. By far the best room in the cabin though was the one I was in now, the one at the top of the small flight of stairs. Tucked away in the roof space with a fantastic view out over the lake was the master bedroom; complete with its own fireplace, well equipped bathroom and, best of all, a huge four poster bed.

"Now this I could get used to," I said as I lay back on the luxurious mattress, staring out over the loch; glowing amber in the evening sun as it continued its drift towards the headland. "Peace and quiet and a great view; do you think that water is cold?"

"I'd imagine it might be babe," Emily replied as she closed the closet door, the last of her things neatly tucked away. "You thinking of braving it?"

"Yeah," I said absently, already thinking of a swim and then a shower before dinner.

"Right give me a second to sort something out and I'll join you," she said surprising me just a little. Emily had made it clear that she wasn't keen on swimming in cold water, and yet here she was telling me that she wanted to.

"Are you sure?" I asked as she practically skipped across the thick carpeting to the door.

"We're on holiday Nomi, _you_ want to go swimming, and I want to go swimming _with_ you. This is our chance to be together with no-one to bother us and I'm not going to waste a minute; freezing cold water or not!"

She sounded so passionate I couldn't help but snigger at her, resulting in a stern look followed by a stuck out tongue. "Unpack Naomi," she said finally breaking out into a smile of her own. Quicker you're sorted the quicker you can get into that water."

"Yes Ma'am," I replied with a smile, saluting smartly, "right away ma'am."

Emily vanished, a salute of her own her only reply; a salute of the two fingered variety. Shaking my head in amusement I went back to unpacking my suitcase, tucking away my belongings in the capacious built in wardrobes. As I tucked the case into the bottom and closed the door I heard Emily call for me from downstairs. Reluctantly I put my fancy swimsuit on the bed and went so see what she wanted

"What's up?" I said as I walked down the staircase to the ground floor, wondering where Emily was.

"Nothing," she said walking in through the door from outside. "I thought you wanted to go swimming."

"I do," I said nodding, "I was about to get changed when you called me."

"Get changed?" Emily said grinning and pulling off her t-shirt, revealing that somewhere along the way she had removed her underwear. "Why would you want to get changed?"

As I watched, dumbfounded, she stripped off her clothes until she was wearing nothing but a smile. With a wink she opened the door and stepped onto the wooden porch, "Coming?"

"You're kidding," I said shaking my head, still managing to admire the view as she walked away. "you want to go skinny dipping…what if someone's out there watching?"

"There's no one around for miles Nomi," she called as she made her way across the grass to the loch edge, "don't be such a prude."

Quickly I stripped off my clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor. I'd never been called a prude in my life, and I certainly wasn't averse to the idea of swimming naked; especially with my little redhead as a partner. As I walked outside I saw her skipping around on the very edge of the water, dipping her toes into the water and stepping back as if scalded.

"This is ridiculous," I heard her yelp as she stepped back onto dry land shaking her foot.

"It was your idea," I shouted as I ran across the grass towards her, a wicked glint in my eye. "No going back now Fitch." 

"Don't you dare Nomi," she screamed as I ran towards her.

"Time to get wet Ems," I said as I grabbed her and lifted her from her feet, bracing myself against the blows and the cold water.

"I'm warning you Campbell, put me down," she said struggling in my arms.

"Yes ma'am," I said turning around to face the land. Just as Emily stopped struggling, obviously thinking that I was going to carry her back to the beach, I let myself fall backwards and we tumbled into the water in a jumble of arms and legs and shrieks as the cold enveloped us.

"You bitch," Emily shouted as she surfaced, dripping wet, "It's fucking freezing!"

"It's not that bad," I said privately admitting that she was right, it was colder than I'd expected; "swim a bit hun, you'll soon warm up. Race you to that rock."

We swam for a good twenty minutes or so in that cold water as the sun finally set over the hillside. To my surprise and pleasure Emily was a very strong swimmer and matched me stroke for stroke as we swam back and forth across the bay. Eventually though, the cold got the better of us both and we called it a day, racing each other to the shore; a race I won, but only by a fingernail.

"Time for a hot shower," I said stepping shivering, but happy, into the late June evening air. "Fancy joining me?"

"I've got something better than a shower babe," Emily said running her hand down my back and around my side, her mails scraping against my cold skin. "You just follow me; I think you'll like this too."

I didn't need much encouragement to follow Emily's naked form across the grass back to the cabin; her arse dancing along in front of me beautifully.

"You're perving Miss Campbell," she said without looking back.

"You're right," I replied shamelessly, smiling as she placed an extra wiggle into her step at my words. "What you got planned anyway? I was looking forward to a nice hot shower."

"You'll love this, trust me," Ems said as she stepped up onto the deck and turned to face me. "I think a nice hot jacuzzi is in order after all that swimming don't you?"

She gestured to a bubbling tub that was set into the deck, steam rising gently into the air above it. I had totally failed to notice as I'd walked out of the cabin and I kicked myself for my inattention, blaming it on the luscious body in front of me; a body that was slipping into the warm water with obvious relish.

"Drink?" Emily said leaning over the edge of the pool and pulling a bottle and glasses out of a concealed holder.

"Not for me love," I said stepping carefully into the bubbling water and easing myself down, "I still don't…"

"Sparkling fruit juice babe," she said unscrewing the bottle top and pouring the fizzy liquid into a glass, "no booze at all."

"You think of everything," I said accepting the glass from her and sitting back against the jets.

"I certainly try," she replied, pouring her own glass and dropping the bottle into the holder. "So do you like my holiday destination? I seem to remember you reserving the right to complain about it if you didn't."

"I've no complaints so far love," I told her as I looked across at her, her foot casually stroking against mine. "The views have been spectacular."

"You've hardly seen the views," she started, tailing off at my knowing smile. "Perv," she corrected herself as the penny dropped, kicking me playfully.

"You love it," I said holding up my glass.

"I do," she said, leaning forward and touching her glass to mine and taking a long sip before climbing across to sit straddling me. "I certainly do. I think we're going to have a great week baby…a really great week."

Funnily enough, so did I.

o+o+o

I had the best sleep in weeks on that huge mattress, the four poster bed being everything I could have hoped it would be. We'd had a late night Emily and I, climbing out of the tub reluctantly in search of food.

After a rapid search through the cupboards I opted to make us a simple stir fry, the vegetables and spiced chicken gaining great approval from my hungry girlfriend. After dinner I'd expected to spend the rest of the evening quietly reading, or just listening to music, but Emily had surprised me again, the rustic cabin showing again that its simplicity was only on the surface. Hidden away in a wooden cupboard was a large flat screen television that was hooked up to a network socket on the wall. Emily showed me how it worked and at her insistence I'd glanced at the film titles on the screen, a fancy computer somewhere giving hundreds of options at the click of the remote control; but instead of choosing I decided that I wanted to do something else.

"You want to do a jigsaw?" Emily said as I lifted the box that had caught my eye out of the bottom of a bookshelf. "Really?"

"Really," I said running my hand over the picture on the front, "I used to love doing jigsaws with my mum; I haven't done one in years."

"That could take us all week," she protested as I placed the box onto the dining table and tipped out the pieces. "it's got four thousand pieces!"

"Do you have anywhere else to go?" I said flipping over the tiny cardboard shapes, revealing the bright colours. "Anyway four thousand is nothing, mum and I did a nine thousand piece jigsaw once, took us ages; though I _was_ only nine at the time."

"I think I'm going to need a drink," Ems said heading into the kitchen, "and not a non-alcoholic one….can I get you anything?"

"Coke if we have any babe please," I replied drawing up a chair and sitting at the table properly, totally engrossed in turning and sorting the shapes. Within moments a tall glass of coke with ice was placed in front of me, Emily pulling a chair around to sit next to me, her very full wine glass balanced precariously on the edge.

"We're totally going to regret this," she told me as she reached out and grabbed a handful of pieces, starting to place them out on the table.

"It'll be fun," I said as I began to drag out the edge pieces from the collection attempting to slot them together to match the image on the box, "trust me."

It was as well; we spent a happy hour or so sat at that table, drinking, chatting, and trying to do the puzzle. Despite Emily's reservations we made fairly steady progress, getting three quarters of the edge done and a small section of one side; we were never going to finish it in one night, but for me that was part of the appeal. When mum and I used to do jigsaws we would spend an hour or two or sometimes longer sat together messing about. A lot of the time we didn't even get much done; instead spending our time talking about my days at school and the things that I'd learnt. That simple pleasure ended when I turned into the clichéd teenage brat, all contemptuous and self-absorbed; but happily we found that simple pleasure once more when she found herself in hospital.

Just like back then, the jigsaw was nothing but an excuse for us to be together, something to occupy the eyes as Emily and I talked, and joked, and teased each other. Over a couple of drinks I completed the process of winding down, finally allowing myself to relax and enjoy the holiday. Over those tiny pieces of oddly shaped cardboard covered with sea and land and the shapes of dragons, I managed to turn off my brain and allowed myself to become a civilian once more; I could allow myself that here, we were in no real danger.

Eventually though we felt the need to vacate the table to the comforts of the plush, comfortable sofas, curling up together and listening to the music; playfully fighting over the remote control to select a tune.

It was nice; it was more than nice in fact. If this was day one of the holiday then it had been a good one, despite the ten hour drive.

"God I'm tired," Emily said suddenly, yawning loudly and drowning out Nina much to my dismay, her 'Put A Spell On You' being one of my all time favourite 'chillout' tracks.

"I don't know why," I teased taking a sip of the hot chocolate that Emily had made earlier, finally finding a speciality that she had in the kitchen department. "It's not as if you did anything tiring today; unless sleeping in the car counts as exhausting."

"I wasn't really sleeping," she replied with a gentle elbow to my side, the lie blatant. "I was far too nervous to sleep; I kept thinking, what if you hated the place? What if you thought a holiday should be somewhere hot and sunny, with loads of nightlife and stuff?"

"Well that explains the constant eating then," I joked, though the amount of food she had put away on the journey had been staggering; her ability to vacuum up jelly babies had been something to behold. "But yes, hot and sunny would have been really nice; and I _may _have spent a little bit of time thinking about you walking along a sun drenched white beach in a tiny bikini…however I think what you wore for this evening's dip was far, far better."

"Cheeky," she replied, yawning and sipping at her own drink, "so you like it here then?"

"I love it," I declared honestly. "You and me, a roaring fire and a lake to go swimming in…what else could I possibly want?"

"Good, I'm glad," she said craning her neck to look up at me, "tomorrow, do you want to go for a walk in the hills, or take a boat out on the lake?"

"I think I'd like a long lie in and then see what happens hun," I told her, yawning despite the relatively early hour. "I'm feeling pretty knackered; all that driving and then the swimming. I think I'm ready for an early night and a lazy day tomorrow."

"Thank fuck for that," Ems said putting down her cup and twisting around so she was looking up at me, arms sneaking around my waist. "I thought I'd have to find all sorts of exciting things for you to do to keep you entertained while we were up here."

"Why on earth did you think that?" I asked as I finished my own drink and yawned again; my eyes tired, my brain starting to shut down.

"Because you're an 'all action girl' aren't you? All running and climbing and shooting, I spent ages thinking of things that we could do while were here because I thought you'd get bored sitting around doing nothing."

"Well you're half right," I said knowing that she had a pretty good assessment of me there. "But I love having moments when I can just relax and be by myself. I never got much time for that in the army, there's always someone needing you to do something."

"A sergeant's work is never done?" she teased with a squeeze of my waist. "Some tedious chore that is always needing your expert eye?"

"Something like that," I nodded, lifting my hand and running it through her vibrant red hair; clearing it from where it was obscuring her face, and revealing a pair of big brown eyes staring at me through heavy lids.

"Well, I need you to do something for me Sarge," Emily said finally after a long silent moment.

"What's that baby?" I replied, not taking my eyes from hers.

"I need you to take me to bed, I'm tired too."

"That's hardly a chore Ems."

"What if I asked you to carry me?" she said, her eyelids lowering as sleep began to take over her.

"Won't be the first time and I doubt it will be the last love," I said with conviction, fighting my own tiredness.

"You're being sweet," she told me, reaching up to stroke my cheek her fingers soft and warm against my skin. "It makes me want to kiss you."

"Really?" I replied joining in her contagious yawning, "That makes me want to carry on then."

"Take me to bed Nomi," Emily sniggered, "and I'll see what I can do."

o+o+o

As the sun rose over the hills on the morning of our second day, I had an embarrassingly long lie in; eclipsed only by Emily's. While she snored away I was up, and in the lake, dressed for the occasion this time. The water was still chilly, but a few minutes hard work was enough to get my blood pumping and my muscles singing. No doubt Emily would find it strange, but not only was really enjoying myself, but I was continuing the process of chilling out that I had started the night before. I had time to myself, time to think and that was worth more than anything.

I didn't even have to worry about Emily while I was out here. Apart from the seclusion, the cabin had quite a good security system as befitted a luxury retreat and I had no fears that we'd both know if trouble was in the offing

After my swim and a shower, using the main bathroom on the ground floor so as not to disturb the still sleeping Emily; it was already getting on for eleven o'clock and she still hadn't surfaced. Fortunately I'd already grabbed some sweats to get changed into, and once I was dried off I went in search of a warm drink and something to eat.

"Got one of them for me?" I heard from behind me as I poured hot water into my cup.

"I don't, but I can quickly remedy that," I replied with a smile on my face as those familiar arms wrapped around me. "Would you like a cup of tea or coffee?"

"Ooh, coffee I think please love," Ems said, letting go of my waist and jumping up to sit on the countertop next to me. "You know I need my early morning coffee to kick start my system."

"Hardly early hun," I teased her as I filled the kettle again. "The morning has almost gone."

"Early enough for me," she said with a yawn as if to emphasise her point. Anyway I assume you were up early this morning babe, did you have trouble sleeping again?"

"Not at all," I said as I prepared her coffee, "I even managed a lie in which was nice."

"What time did you get up then?" she asked as she accepted the drink, sniffing at it happily.

"Just before nine," I said pouring milk into my nicely steamed cup of tea; a proper squaddies brew, one that practically dissolved the spoon, let alone stood it up.

"Nine o'clock is hardly a lie in Nomi," Emily told me disapprovingly, "not when you're on holiday it's not anyway."

"Well it is for me hun; besides I couldn't get back to sleep and that loch was calling."

"You could have woken me," Ems replied kicking me gently with her swinging foot, "we could have gone swimming together again."

"What and spoilt your lie in?" I told her with a smile, "I'm not that daft love, you're on holiday too. In fact I thought you were going to stay in bed all day."

"I gave it some serious thought," she admitted, "but then I decided I was hungry."

"Ah," I teased, "that must have been a dilemma for you, food versus sleep; I know they're two of your favourite things."

"You did make it easy for me babes. There I was, in bed all alone and then I heard you brewing up down here so it wasn't much of a contest really…what's for breakfast then _Sarge_?"

"I have no idea _Ma'am_," I replied in revenge for the Sarge comment. "What would ma'am like for breakfast?"

"Bacon toastie please, thanks _Sarge_," Emily said, hopping down from the counter, kissing me on the cheek and heading off into the lounge cup in hand; leaving me standing in the kitchen. "With some brown sauce if we have any."

Shaking my head I dug through the fridge to find some bacon, I'd been well and truly stitched up but it didn't matter; a bacon toastie sounded pretty good to me right then too; and once it was made, and served, it tasted pretty good too.

After breakfast relaxation was the order of the day; with nothing planned we simply lounged around, either together or apart, just enjoying the day, the company or the seclusion. By the time we were talking about dinner though, I was starting to fidget.

"What is wrong with you?" Emily said, finally looking up from her book and squinting at me. "Are you bored or something?"

"A little bit," I said staring out of the picture windows, "I'm not sure this much relaxation is good for me."

I didn't comment at the snort from my girl, but I had to protest slightly when she stared at me seriously, biting her lip before collapsing in peals of laughter.

"What's so funny?" I asked as she rolled back on the couch, her book forgotten; dropped to the floor, her place lost.

"This much relaxation," she repeated laughing away, "fucking hell we've only been here one day Nomi, what are you going to be like by the end of the week?"

"I might be chewing my way into that gun cabinet," I said trying to keep my stony face as I looked across at her, "especially if you keep taking the piss out of me."

"I'm sorry babes," Emily said, not sounding sorry at all, "but you have to admit it is funny. Do you want to go for a swim or something?"

"Not today," I said with a shake of the head; I didn't either, my morning swim being enough for the day. I was feeling antsy though, I needed something to do.

"What about a walk?" Emily suggested, "Mum said there's a trail through the woods; it might be a nice way to spend the evening, perhaps work up an appetite."

"Might be fun," I replied getting up and stretching. "Where about is this trail?"

"I have no idea," she said holding out her hand so I could pull her to her feet, "but let's go and find it together."

o+o+o

Somewhere around Wednesday Emily and I had unconsciously established a little routine that suited both ourselves and each other. Emily opted for having a lie in, where I chose to get up reasonably early and go for a swim. We would have breakfast and lunch together as well as a late supper, but in between we pretty much did our own things, reading, watching movies and on more than one occasion I allowed myself the luxury of taking a cheeky nap, and not always on my own.

There was one constant that we developed though, from that first evening onwards. Before supper, before we settled down for the night, we took a long walk together; it rapidly became my favourite part of the day, even more than our hours in front of our jigsaw. It was a marvellous way to spend time and we found many a little path that led through the woods, some taking us down to the loch edge and around the banks, some taking us up the hillsides for a spectacular view over the little valley. We didn't do a lot of talking during the walks; we didn't need to. Instead we just enjoyed each others company and used the silence to allow nature to surround us, looking out for the animals that shared the place that we called home for the week; Emily pointing them out to me like an excited child whenever she caught a glimpse of something.

I had everything I needed right then and there, comfort, relaxation and good company. Emily's idea of a week long sojourn into the wilds of Scotland had worked out better than she could ever have expected. Thoughts of beaches and nightclubs and the booze filled holidays of my earlier years were now forgotten; all I wanted to do right now was stay in this cabin, isolated, for the rest of my days. It had indeed been a good week…unfortunately for us, come one glorious Thursday evening as we lounged in the hot tub watching the sun set over the loch, the magic was broken and our holiday was over.


	63. Unexpected Guests, Unexpected Trips

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –**I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness, and a still lingering case of writers block.

I still have nothing to do with Skins, but then do we care about Skins any more?

**Authors Note:** Back again and inside a week too, I really am spoiling you d-:

Oh and cliff-hanger? That wasn't a cliff-hanger at all, stop complaining you lot (-;

Anyways, enjoy.

**Chapter 63– Unexpected Guests, Unexpected Trips**

"What the actual fuck?" Emily said looking out over the loch at a boat that was approaching us from the far end at some speed.

"Inside," I barked, already hauling myself out of the tub and putting myself between Emily and the potential danger; thankfully she didn't argue, simply climbing out and running for the doorway, grabbing her robe from the floor and pulling it over her naked body as she ran inside. I grabbed my own robe and followed her, backing away from the tub and taking one last glance at the approaching boat. It didn't seem like a threat, it was hardly the most stealthy of approaches coming down the loch towards us, but I had never been about taking chances, and I wasn't about to start now. My first priority would be getting us both inside and into cover, then to get a means of defence and plan an escape route.

"Get me the key to that gun case Emily," I ordered as I closed and locked the back door, dragging one of the chairs across to help block it just in case. "Then find the car keys and get that shed door open, will the remote reach it from here?"

She nodded, lifting the small key out of a drawer when she had hidden it and threw it over to me. "Hey," I called out as she turned and crossed the room to the table where we had dumped our bits. She paused and looked at me, eyes concerned, "It's probably nothing hun yeah? Let's just make sure we're ready for it ok?"

Emily nodded uncertainly as I pulled on my robe and wrapped it around myself, tying it closed tightly as I walked over to the cabinet. Unlocking the door I considered my options, inside were two hunting rifles and three shotguns, all of them double barrelled. I would have given my right foot for a pump action shotgun right now, but I grabbed the nearest shotgun and loaded it, dropping shells into the pockets of my robe as I did so.

"Door's open love," Emily called out from the front of the cabin. I carried the loaded shotgun over to the nearest window and laid it against the wall. "Are we going?"

"No time Ems," I said, spotting the boat pulling up on the shore, the three passengers preparing to disembark. I rushed back to the cabinet and grabbed another one of the shotguns, loading it quickly. "You go now," I said, "take the car and get somewhere safe, keep your head down and don't stop for anything; I'll call you when it's safe."

"What about you?" Emily protested, "aren't you coming too?"

"Don't argue Ems," I snapped, clicking the shotgun closed and heading for the window. "Just go."

"But…"

"_Go_ Emily!" I shouted, getting annoyed with her obstinacy. "Do as you're told. Get out and get to somewhere safe, I'll cover you."

I heard a huff from behind me as I peered out of the window at the three figures that were approaching, there was something familiar about the way they were moving and slowly I inched open the door and fired a warning shot into the air.

"What are you doing?" Emily called from behind me as I opened the door at the three figures that were belly down on the floor, hardly the pose of hardened terrorist's intent on murder.

"Why are you still here?" I snarled at Emily, opening the door and looking outside at the still prone figures. "Stay where you are!" I yelled at them, pointing the shotgun downrange at the three figures, "do not move, or I will open fire."

In truth the odds weren't great, I had one shell left, no time to reload, and three hostiles in front of me; if they decided to rush me I was well and truly fucked.

"Naomi?" A familiar voice called out from the patch of grass, "don't shoot it's me, Jenna."

"Jenna?" I shouted back, "stand up and walk towards me slowly, the rest of you stay where you are!" Despite the familiarity of the voice, I wasn't going to take any chances with this lot; Jenna could have been kidnapped and forced to comply, it wasn't likely but I wasn't going to risk it. I pointed the shotgun towards the figure that stood and slowly began to approach, my finger firmly pointed forward; not on the trigger, but ready in case it was needed. For safety's sake I wasn't actually aiming at her, but my shotgun was tracking between the three of them looking for a sign of danger.

"Mum?" Emily called out from behind me as Jenna Fitch came into view, "what are you doing here, you're supposed to be in Paris with Colin, and why did you come by boat?"

"I came to get you dear," Jenna said dusting off her clothes as she walked towards us. "We flew in and this was the fastest way to get here."

"Who's with you?" I demanded, the shotgun still pointed at the figures on the ground.

"Just Richard and what I assume will be a very scared boat owner," she said stepping onto the deck with her hands held up. "Can we come in?"

"_You_ can," I said stepping onto the deck and raising my voice so it could be heard across the grass, "you two can get up and approach me, but slowly, no sudden movements."

"Oh really Nomi," Emily said from behind me, "relax, mum's told you who it is; stop being such a pain."

I ignored her abuse and watched carefully as the two figures approached, recognising Richard as soon as he came into view. "Everything ok?" I asked nodding at the tall guy next to him,

"Fine," Richard replied with a meaningful gesture at my shotgun, "would you mind?"

I nodded and hefted the gun, breaking open the barrel and emptying the chambers, making the weapon safe. I allowed the shotgun to drape over my arm, trying to pull off the country laird look as best I could in my bathrobe.

"Miss Campbell this is Alasdair Skene, he's the owner of the boat we hired to get here," Richard said as he stepped onto the decking, following Jenna into the house.

"Mr Skene," I said nodding at the dour faced man who was eyeing me with suspicion. "Apologies for the welcome, not my usual hospitality but I'm afraid I can't take any chances these days."

"Aye," he replied his accent thick, "your man there said you might be a wee bit cautious, didn't expect to be shot at though."

"Again, my apologies," I replied gesturing for him to join us inside, "and I didn't actually shoot at you, you know? I was firing into the air."

"Aye that's true as well," he replied waving me away and making no attempt to join us. "I'll be away down with my boat if you don't mind lassie. Mrs Fitch there said you'll need to get straight back."

Before I could reply he was turning away and walking across the grass to the shoreline, lighting a cigarette as he went. Shrugging at his dismissal I walked back into the cabin to see what was going on, only to find Richard and Jenna sat on the sofa's, Emily no where to be seen.

"Gone to get dressed," Jenna said looking at me amusedly, "said that wearing a bathrobe wasn't the best way to greet guests; though it doesn't seem to be causing you any issues."

"Well it is a bit draughty," I replied putting the shotgun in the cabinet and reaching for the spare, unloading it carefully and locking it away. "But needs must and all that; I think it's better than being naked."

"Did we get you out of bed?" Jenna said, a hint of amusement in her voice at my casualness to our situation.

"Out of the spa actually," I replied pulling shells from out of my pockets and replacing them in the boxes, securing all of the weaponry and locking it all away safely. "We were having a nice soak in the hot tub when I saw you coming."

"So why _are_ you here mum?" Emily said, appearing at the top of the stairs in a pair of my sweats; sweats that were just slightly too long for her, the cuffs and ankles bunching making her look smaller than she really was. "We _are_ supposed to be on holiday you know? Relaxing after last week!"

"I know dear and I'm really, really sorry; you know I wouldn't disturb you both unless it was really important but this really can't wait."

"What's the matter mum?" Emily said, half running down the stairs to her mother, "has something happened to Katie? Or James?"

"Oh no dear, nothing like that…I'm not doing very well here am I?" she added apologetically. "Look, sit down dear and I'll explain."

"Would anyone mind if I got changed while you talk?" I said, interrupting the conversation abruptly.

"Well you need to hear this too Naomi," Jenna said standing, "but I think a nice cup of tea is in order. Why don't you get dressed whilst I 'put a wet on', is that right?"

"Very good," I said getting up and smiling at her use of the familiar term. "Give me two seconds and I'll be right down."

It might have taken me slightly longer than two seconds to find some clothes to pull on; Emily having stolen the ones I'd left on the bed to get changed into after our soak in the tub. By the time I got downstairs there was a pot on the table, and a cup of hot tea waiting for me.

"Take a seat Naomi," Jenna said pouring milk into my cup and sliding it over to me, "you need to know about this as well."

"What's the matter mum?" Emily said again, "what's going on that would bring you all the way up here in a fucking helicopter?"

"Language Emily," Jenna chided before smiling at her daughter affectionately. "Look, I'm sorry for breaking up your holiday but something came up and we have to deal with it."

"Work?" Emily said, picking up her own cup and blowing at the steaming liquid.

"Work," Jenna confirmed, causing Emily to sigh deeply and slump back in her seat. "I'm really sorry Emily, you know I wouldn't do this to you if I had an alternative but I don't. I don't have the experience to pull this off and I need you to help sort it out."

"What's happened mum?" Emily asked, her eyes still closed.

"Iraq's happened," Jenna replied with a frown, "we're on the short list and we got moved forward. We have a meeting with the Iraqi Police tomorrow afternoon and I need you and Nigel to get out there and make this happen."

"Tomorrow?" Emily blurted out incredulously, "They're kidding surely?"

"I'm afraid not," Jenna said shaking her head; my own head was reeling with the implications of her announcement. This time tomorrow we would be in Iraq and Emily would be trying to broker a deal with one of the most beleaguered police forces in the world, in one of the most dangerous places in the world. It was going to be a logistical nightmare trying to make sure we were safe and sound over there, and all I could think about was what the boys back in the office had arranged for us. It was really strange trying to go from holiday mode back into work mode and I was trying to think of all the things that I needed to do to make it happen.

"Naomi?"

Emily's voice dragged me out of my mental lock-in, making me realise that once again I hadn't heard a word that they had been saying. I knew that Emily had rumbled me when she grinned broadly at my confused blink; the bloody girl knew me far too well.

"I was asking if you thought we'd be ready to go late tonight or early tomorrow, but I guess you're still working that out."

"Yeah," I lied, "I'm going to need to talk to the LT about it, but from where we were before we went off on last week's trip I think everything is in place."

"Mr Jones says he will be accompanying you to Iraq Miss Campbell," Richard interjected formally; "he said that he needed to be on site to oversee things while you were there."

"Did he say if everything was ready equipment wise?" I asked, getting a nod from Jenna's CPO. "All of it?" I added, thinking of the other items that Cook had told me he would be arranging through his contact in Baghdad.

"Everything," Richard confirmed nodding again. "Mr Jones asked me to reassure you that everything you need will be waiting for you at the airport when you arrive."

"Then I guess we're ready Ems," I said with a frown. "I take it we need to leave right away?"

"I'm afraid so Naomi," Jena said putting down her cup, we'll take the boat back to the farm where the helicopter is waiting, and then we're heading back to London. I'm sorry I'm ruining your holiday girls, but there's really nothing for it; they're expecting you tomorrow Emily, my hands are tied."

"It's ok mum," Ems said patting her on the knee and getting up, "we just need to pack away a few things and we'll be ready to go. Come on Naomi, let's go and get sorted."

"One thing," I said as I rose to follow her, "what about my car? We can't just leave it here."

"I'm going to drive it back for you Miss Campbell," Richard said casually from his seat. "I'm sure that you'll be able to look after Mrs Fitch for the trip back, when you're in London arrangements have been made for her security."

"You're driving my car back," I said frowning, "well be careful, if you break it Cook will not be impressed."

"I will drive it as if it is my own," Richard said with a smile that totally changed his usually serious face.

"I bloody hope not," Jenna interrupted with a dramatic shake of her head, "I hope for Naomi's sake you're a lot more careful than that Richard."

o+o+o

Half an hour of rapid stuffing clothes into cases later and we were done, packed and heading down the shoreline to the boat; it wasn't a big craft, little more than a powered dingy, but it was fast and I felt like a dog in a car as I sat near the front, the wind and spray lashing at my face.

"Having fun Nomi?" Emily yelled over the sound of the racing engine, "I bet you're used to all this, yes?"

"Not really," I shouted back; noting that she was looking a little green around the gills. "I was a copper, not a marine, plus there's not much water in the desert."

"Oh shut up," she shouted as the inflatable boat skipped over a wavelet, lurching dramatically. I hid a smile as I watched Emily grab at the rope that ran over the inflatable pods, her knuckles gleaming white as she hung on for dear life. It looked like my girl hated boats almost as much as I hated flying; something to remember just in case.

It didn't take us long to get to the tiny boathouse that marked the end of our journey. I could see the black and gold colours of the commercial helicopter that was waiting in a field for us, its rotors still. It must have cost Jenna a fortune to hire it to come and get us, surely a mark of how important this deal was to the company. Between the Iraqi Police and the Indian Army, Fitch Industries had the potential to make an absolute fortune; it was clearly an opportunity for them to become a massive player in the industry and to open doors into new markets. It was an exciting time for them, but a dangerous one too; the people they were hoping to deal with weren't well loved in the world of the extremist, and the group that had been threatening them would more than likely see it as one more reason to pour out their own version of hate.

"Are you ready for this?" Emily asked as I helped her out of the boat and back onto dry land.

"As I'll ever be," I replied eyeing the helicopter with suspicion. To be perfectly honest I wasn't nearly as worried about flying as I had been on that first trip from London, but that wasn't to say I enjoyed it.

"Come on you, it won't be that bad," she said laughing, walking away and leaving me, once again to carry her case for her. "I'll hold your hand and make it better," she called out as the rotors on the chopper began to turn, the pilot obviously alerted to our presence.

"Wish you'd carry your own bag instead," I shouted after her as Jenna laughed beside me. Emily just turned and stuck her tongue out at me, a move that prompted me to laugh as she lost her footing and fell to the floor, landing on her arse in the thick grass with a look of pure surprise on her face.

"I think she deserved that," Jenna said as she walked past me, stifling a laugh of her own, holding out a hand to her daughter who had, thankfully, started giggling herself. With Emily obviously unhurt, I picked up the cases and walked towards the helicopter, the co-pilot walking towards me to take our luggage and stow it in one of the hidden compartments, running back and forth under the now whirring blades. Emily hooked my arm as we waited, pulling herself into my side tightly.

"Shame about the holiday babe," she said as she stared at the pilot, waiting for the signal to say we could approach; "things were just starting to get good."

"They were," I replied with a sigh, "one more night and I think we'd have cracked that jigsaw you know."

"You and that bloody jigsaw," she laughed turning to her mother. "Can you believe that mum, we have a cabin in the woods _all_ to ourselves, and all Naomi here wanted to do of an evening was complete a stupid jigsaw with dragons on it."

"All she wanted to do Emily dear?" Jenna said with a raised eyebrow, a raised eyebrow that caused both her daughter and me to blush. "Are you sure? Judging by how you were dressed when I arrived dear, jigsaws were the last thing on your minds."

"Mum!" Emily shouted, her voice sounding outraged and embarrassed by Jenna's bluntness, though I had no idea why. "We were in the spa, nothing funny going on at all."

"Sounds like you missed a trick then dear, Colin and I had a lot of fun in our whirlpool bath in Paris, until the bloody office called that was."

Emily and I were left standing there dumbfounded as Jenna walked towards the helicopter at a signal from the pilot, his co-pilot opening the side door and gesturing for her to get onboard.

"Well at least someone _else_ had their romantic holiday ruined," Emily muttered as we each waited for the signal to approach.

"I wouldn't say ruined hun," I replied reassuringly, "it was good while it lasted. Why don't we just call it postponed, sure we can find the time to do this again when all this business of yours is finished."

"We'll _make_ the time," she promised as I clapped her on the shoulder, nudging her towards the waiting ride.

"I fucking hope so," I muttered to myself as I watched her jump on board and then made that strange, stooped half walk half run under the rapidly spinning rotors, trying not to get decapitated. "I was just starting to enjoy it."

o+o+o

Many hours and many miles later I was feeling sweaty, uncomfortable, and annoyed. Five long hours after we took off from Gatwick we were on approach to Baghdad International Airport, and the tension in our corner of the plane was palpable.

It was only a small team that had made the trip to Iraq; me and JJ of course providing close protection duties to Emily and her colleague Nigel. I'd met Nigel a few times in Emily's meetings and frankly I thought he was a cock, it had taken me one car journey, a wait in the airport lounge and ten minutes of the flight to reappraise my opinion of him. He wasn't a cock, he was an abject fucking dicksplash! I'd had to restrain my sharp tongue and hard fists on no less than five separate occasions, and it was only a calming hand on mine that stopped me from getting up and lamping him when the seatbelt sign went off.

Fortunately for me, and him, Nigel decided to use the flight to 'catch up on my beauty sleep' . That meant that I was saved from having to try to ignore his thinly veiled digs at me and Ems, and he was saved from a punch in the face. Just because the rumours of our relationship had travelled around Fitch Industries since the funeral, didn't mean he could pass comment and think he could get away with it; and I promised that as soon as the meeting was over, and we were tucked up safely in our hotel, 'Nige' and I were having words.

So it wasn't the proximity to one of the world's most dangerous hotspots that was causing our tension, it was a small minded idiot with a flapping jaw and no sense of diplomacy.

Still, it did at least take my mind off the flight.

The airport itself was seriously impressive; I guess a testament to the obscene opulence of the previous regime. I knew that it used to be called Saddam International, and I supposed that no expense had been spared to make it a jewel in his crown. My mother would be seething at how lavish the place was, knowing how much the people had suffered; I was keeping my mouth shut, after the journey it was cool and quiet and a good place to wait for our contact to meet us and escort us to where we would be getting kitted up.

"What's the delay Nomi?" Emily whispered to me, her voice sounding concerned. She'd been quiet for most of the flight, and hadn't said a word since we had disembarked the plane. I guess the reality of our situation had finally hit her, even the gobby fucker Nigel was subdued.

"We're waiting for a guy called Karl love," I whispered, "he's the contact that Cook and JJ have hired to provide our equipment and drive us around. He's probably just delayed, no need to worry."

"I'm not worrying babe," she said unconvincingly, "not really anyway."

"I am," I told her flatly, getting a surprised look. "What? I am," I added, "this can be a dangerous place, even JJ is worried see?"

"JJ looks as cool as a cucumber babe," Emily said staring at him, "he doesn't look bothered at all."

"He's rolling a coin Em," I told her nodding at his right hand where a two pound coin was working its way from knuckle to knuckle before vanishing and reappearing by his thumb to repeat the journey. "He always does that when he's concerned about stuff, it's his thing."

"His thing?" she repeated sounding confused.

"Yeah, we all have something we do when we're getting ready to go on mission. JJ rolls coins, McClair used to check and double check his pouches, and Whitey used to click his lighter…drove me fucking mad that did. Always the same pattern, click click, click click; open close, open close. I stopped him doing it once mid stride and he nearly freaked out at me."

"So JJ's worried?" she asked, her eyes glued to the coin as it spun and spun.

"Not in the way you're thinking," I explained patiently, glad of the distraction. "This is the worst part of a mission, the bit before you go into action. You've done everything you can do and now your waiting for the go signal. You're trying not to over-think everything, trying to stay focused and trying not to think of the dangers too much all at once. I used to hate it, that's how I started spotting other peoples 'things', once you know what you're looking for it's easy. Take Nigel over there, he's a pen clicker; it must be really annoying him right now."

"How so?"

"Because he hasn't got a pen with him, he used to spin and click his pens when he was in meetings, especially when he was feeding you a line of shit; right now his fingers are twitching…look at him, he's a fucking mess."

"Do I have a thing?" Emily asked dragging her eyes from Nigel and his involuntary finger movements and staring up at me, my mission of distracting her virtually complete.

"You do," I said knowingly, winking at her.

"What is it then?" she demanded and I raised an eyebrow in reply.

"What, tell you how I know when you're nervous about something Emily Fitch? I don't think so…I'm not going to give up an advantage like that, next thing you'll tell me is that you want to know what mine is."

"You have a 'thing'?" she said loudly, causing JJ to look up and drop his coin.

"Everyone has a 'thing' Emily," I admitted with a grin, "even me."

"Spill Naomi, I want to know," she said slapping my arm in frustration.

"You'll have to work it out yourself if you want to know that love," I said lowering my voice as three men approached. "I think this is our ride."

It was indeed, the burly American that introduced himself as Karl was our contact in Baghdad and within moments we were ushered into a side room and presented with a table holding four bags of kit; two larger than the others.

"I think that's mine Ems," I said as she tried to drag one of the larger bags towards herself.

"Does it really matter Naomi," she said sighing, "honestly you're as bad as my sister sometimes."

"It might," I said smiling as she unzipped the bag and then stepped back, eyes wide as she saw what was inside.

"Bitch," she said wagging her finger at me, "you knew that was in there didn't you?"

"Had a good idea," I said reaching in and lifting out the bullpup Heckler and Koch MP7 and checking the mechanism was clear.

"You used one of those before Miss Campbell?" Karl said as I checked out the breech.

"Naomi," I corrected him absently. "Once or twice, the MOD-Plods use them and I got checked out when I was on special duties a couple of years ago. Nice weapon, good in a tight space."

I clicked down the folding foregrip, noting with pleasure that the hinges were nicely oiled and clean, as Karl showed JJ the key features of his weapon I locked it down and placed it on a table, looking at Emily's wry smile.

"Yes Miss Fitch?" I asked as she shook her head at me, "May I be of some assistance?"

"Actually yes, you can show me what the fuck I'm supposed to do with this," she said, ignoring my question and twirling slightly, showing off the navy blue bullet proof vest she had pulled on from the bag. "I think I've got it on right, but I know you'll want to make sure."

"Not a bad job," I said smiling and digging around in her bag pulling out the helmet we'd asked for and holding it out to her. "Now try that on for size."

"Oh fucking hell, you were serious?" Emily said looking at the brain bucket with distain. That's going to weigh a ton."

"Not quite," I said spotting something else nestling in the bottom of her bag and pulling it out. "But that little outfit is going to get a little bit heavier I'm afraid."

"What now?" she said as the others looked on. "Don't you think this thing is heavy enough?"

"You forgot to put these in," I replied holding up the heavy ceramic SAPI plates that fitted in the tight Kevlar pouches.

"What do I need those for?" she said looking at me as if I was taking the piss.

"They sort of stop the bullets Miss Fitch," Karl said from the other end of the table, pulling the plates out of Nigel's bag and slotting them into the vest he was holding himself. "I'm afraid I couldn't get you ladies a moulded inner so the one's you've got might be a little uncomfortable; sorry about that, but there's not a lot of call for vests for ladies out here.

"It'll be fine Karl," I said, not looking at him as I grabbed Emily's vest and unfastened it, lifting it off her shoulders and adding the plates into their slots. "It's not as if we'll be living in them like I used to have to, and I never had a problem then; plus my old vest was far worse than this one."

"James said that you'd seen action Naomi," Karl said sounding impressed, "if you don't mind me saying that's unusual. Your armed forces aren't known for allowing women into combat roles."

"I wasn't _technically_ in a combat role Karl," I said as I held up the vest for Emily to slip her arms into. "I was a close protection officer back then, but we sort of got used for combat support, patrols and peacekeeping and the like."

"No shit?" Karl replied, "I used to do close protection work over here too. I run my own business now, but I do a bit of contract work like this now and again to pay the bills."

"What's it like out here at the moment," the LT asked as he slipped his own vest on and fastened it closed.

"Mostly quiet," Karl said as he sorted out Nigel who, to my great satisfaction, was looking distinctly uncomfortable in his equipment. "Though there have been a couple of car bombings and a shooting or two," he added making Emily and Nigel's faces blanch; "nothing too unusual."

"Nothing too unusual?" Nigel spat staring at me angrily, "bombings and shootings are nothing too unusual? Fucks sake, you said the risk assessment was low, you said it was safe."

"This _is_ safe son," Karl interrupted sniffing, "this is barely a blip on the radar out here."

He turned back to Nigel and thumped him on the shoulders, driving the factory fresh vest down and into position. "Did you think this was a holiday destination son? People die out here every day, which is all the more reason for you to keep that shut and listen to me and your team here. Iraq can be a great place if you take a few simple precautions and don't be acting the fool. Act like an idiot out here boy and I may as well call your momma and tell her you'll be coming home in a box, you git me?"

Emily smirked as Nigel nodded seriously at the big American who handed him his helmet with aplomb. The smile vanished from her face when she looked up at me and saw that I wasn't amused.

"He's not joking is he hun?" she whispered as I clipped on the shoulder pieces of the armour, the shoulder pieces that might have saved my military career had I worn them myself.

"Not even a little bit Ems," I replied seriously. "We've told you how dangerous it can be out here."

"Yeah," she replied pulling at her vest, "I know, it's just…"

"I know," I said resting my hands on her shoulders, all this makes it real doesn't it? You ready?"

"Ready for what?"

"For this," I said raising my hands and bringing them down sharply, as Emily braced I smacked her vest, getting it to sit that little bit lower and more comfortably on her.

"Thanks for nothing babe," she muttered as she straightened and took the helmet from me. "As if this thing isn't heavy enough without you hitting it."

"More than welcome to take my load-out Ems," I said laying out my kit onto the table. Just like JJ I had a modified vest, the straps featuring a few pouches for kit, ammo and my side-arm. As well as the MP7 I had ten magazines, short snubby little thirty-rounders by the looks of things; an advantage of a compact weapon like this was the amount of ammo you could carry, though as usual I hoped that I'd never have to use it. Ten minutes later and everything was the way I liked it, except for the heat. I was wearing loose utilitarian clothes for the mission, and I was hot enough even in the air conditioned rooms; I hated to think how Emily and Nigel were feeling in their business gear. Fortunately for them we were going straight to their meeting and, after an introduction to the other driver who had been busy packing away our luggage we were on our way.

o+o+o

I had a gnawing sense of familiarity as we drove the short distance from the airport to the Police base, it was only ten miles, but it was ten miles that reminded me of journey after journey around Basra and towns like it. Things hadn't changed much, some of the locals seemed friendly, waving at the blacked out shielded cars as we drove by; some on the other hand eyed us suspiciously, and yet more looked at us with abject hostility. It was the dichotomy of the war, we came out here ostensibly to help, to remove a dictator that was butchering his people. We went from liberators to oppressors in a matter of moments, and it reminded me of my time in Northern Ireland; learning the history of the troubles and why the army went there in the first place. They say those that fail to learn from history are doomed to repeat it, well repeat it we had, and this poor country was suffering the results.

It wasn't like they didn't need shot of Saddam, most of the people I'd spoken to had said he really was a tyrant; but we'd broke the country when we invaded, and we'd not yet put it back together. _'All the Kings horses and all the Kings men',_ I thought to myself as I stared at yet once more bullet peppered building.

"Penny for them?" Emily said patting me on the arm as I looked out of the window in silence, searching out the possibility of trouble. "Are you thinking back to the last time you were here."

"A bit," I replied truthfully, "seems so familiar you know?"

"Have you been to Baghdad before Naomi, " Karl called from his seat riding shotgun, his MP7 resting, like mine, on his lap.

"Only once," I said shrugging, loving the feel of the body armour as it moved against me; one more link to a life I had lost. "Didn't get further than the airport though, my unit came in by chopper to escort brass back to Basra. Looks the same as there though."

"Not far off," he replied, his head scanning the streets as we talked. "It was rough out here at the start, real fucking bandit country, pardon my French."

"Sounds about the same then," I replied ignoring the swearing, "how far out are we?"

"Another ten minutes, we'll be driving into the compound and we should be ok there. Your hotel is about another ten minutes away from the barracks and I hope that you folks aren't planning any excursions. If it were me, I'd get in and stay there till morning, no point taking any risks, Panda told me you've received a lot of threats."

"Panda?" Emily asked leaning forward in her seat, "who's Panda?"

"James is Panda Miss Fitch," Karl replied with a laugh, "it's what we used to call him back in the day."

"You served with Cook?" I asked before Emily could speak again.

"I did, and he was the finest soldier a man could know. We saved each other's lives a few times back then too; he was only a youngster but boy could he shoot; finest sniper I've ever seen."

"We've seen him shoot Karl," Emily replied frowning at me for interrupting, "he's superb; but why did you call him Panda?"

"First day in my unit he was showing off, got a little bit too close to his sights aiming at an insurgent sniper and got himself scoped."

"Got hit by his telescopic sights when he fired," I said to her confused look, "not very clever."

"Sure wasn't, a total rookie mistake," Karl added with a laugh, gesturing at a group of local standing by a corner, getting a nod from the driver. "Well I took one look at his bust up nose and knew he was going to have a couple of black eyes in the morning and I said to my boys that by morning we'd be adopting ourselves a Panda; the name kinda stuck."

"They do that," I said with a grin, scanning the rooftops as I did so. "I can't wait to see his face when I let slip that little story; thanks Karl, you've just made my trip."

"He deserves it," Karl replied his amusement clear, "boys good, but it doesn't help to get cocky, nor to try and show off. Happily he learned from that mistake, otherwise he might not have made it home hisself."

o+o+o

The Police compound that we drove into was just like the one I'd known in Basra, surrounded by walls and wire and armed guards at every checkpoint. After a thorough check of our paperwork and a search of the vehicles we were allowed into the compound and directed to the building where Emily's meeting was to take place.

Security on the base was high; everywhere I looked I saw vigilant people, and we were escorted from the vehicles by armed guards. I knew that Emily and Nigel would be rankling at the delays and the overbearing presence, but I for one approved; I couldn't afford to let my guard down over here, but the more people that were helping the better.

I didn't get to stay in the room with Emily and Nigel; the officers that they met insisting that the details of the meeting should be as secret as possible, implying that JJ, Karl and I were little more than the 'hired help'; which I guess we were. We were 'graciously' allowed to check the room out beforehand however, and we swiftly made sure it was safe and secure before being bundled out into the corridor as the meeting began.

"Smoke?" Karl asked as we stood outside the door, lighting up a stubby cigar that he held in his lips but offering a pack of cigarettes to us both. JJ and I just shook our heads, though the temptation was strong. It seemed strange watching someone smoking in a building, the UK's smoking ban having been in place for a number of years now. With nothing else to do I watched the smoke curl up towards the ceiling, lingering momentarily before dissipating in a draft.

"Think I'm going to find a bathroom," JJ said suddenly dragging me from my bored reverie, "long flight you know?"

I nodded as he slung his MP7 onto his back and walked away, looking for a sign or someone that could direct him. When I turned back to Karl I found he was looking right at me, a thoughtful look on his face.

"Can I ask you something Naomi?" he said casually, "you and Miss Fitch, are you two an item?"

"Is it a problem if we are?" I asked, feeling my pulse race as the adrenaline started to flow.

"Not for me," he replied shaking his head, "seen too much in my time to object to people being happy. I just thought you might want to be a bit more careful if you know what I mean?"

"How so?" I asked, feeling a little annoyed at his comments, but knowing that he wouldn't have raised it if it wasn't important...he wasn't that kind of guy.

"Well, if a dumb old grunt like me could tell you two are close then it's not unlikely someone around here or in the hotel will be able to tell too. You probably already know this, but these parts aren't what you might call liberal; some of the people around here are so conservative I don't think they approve of fire. Hell, women are practically a second class species out here, and you and Miss Fitch might attract some unwelcome attention just by being here, let alone..."

He let it stand without stating the obvious, I mulled over his words; perhaps Emily and I had become a bit casual, especially when we were around people we knew. Nigel's little comments wouldn't help us keep a low profile either and I made a note to have a word with both of them as soon as I could.

"Point taken Karl, and thanks," I said grateful for the wakeup call. "We'll be a bit more careful in public, though; just in case."

Karl nodded as JJ appeared around the corner and for now the subject was dropped.

I had the opportunity to raise the topic after the meeting, during the short break before we were escorted from the compound. I even managed to threaten Nigel a bit to my great satisfaction, reminding him that taking the piss out of his employer and her armed CPO was not a good plan and that he was probably replaceable. Thankfully they both took the point, and for public part of this trip anyway 'Naomi' died and 'Miss Campbell' was reborn.

Once the presentation gear Nigel had been carrying was packed away we called over our liaison and we were escorted back to the cars for the trip to the hotel. Emily seemed quite satisfied with the result of her meeting and despite the stresses of a flight, and a meeting, all in a dangerous place she seemed quite happy with herself.

Karl on the other hand was not, and his words to his driver were enough to make the hackles creep up on the back of my neck.

"Too fucking quiet today, I don't like it," he said softly as his driver nodded. Casually I leant forward in my seat to talk to him.

"Problem Karl?" I asked, my eyes scanning the streets and the rooftops carefully.

"Let's hope not Naomi," he replied guardedly, "there's no-one on the streets right now, and I don't like that...I think we'll take a diversion just in case."

"Sensible," I replied knowing it was the right thing to do, one of the problems with regular routes is that the enemy know when and where to hit you, sometimes taking a longer trip was by far the safest option.

"Problem?" Emily said as I sat back and casually adjusted the MP7 so it was more comfortable and readier to hand.

"Precaution," I replied as I heard Karl on the radio to the following car, advising them of the change in plan. "just in case."

To my relief our fears were unfounded, we made it to the hotel in what used to be the Green Zone without serious incident and once we were in our suite I allowed myself to relax a little. I'd been like a coiled spring since before we had arrived, and finally I had the chance to dump my gear and chill.

We'd arranged to order dinner from room service in Emily's 'suite', the four of us thinking it would be better to follow Karl's advice and stay out of the public areas. We were all tired, a little stressed and we wanted nothing more than some food, a chance to wind down and then some sleep. We had an early start in the morning to get back to the UK, and I for one wanted to go to bed early; and, as I discovered after dinner, so did my little red-head, but for quite different reasons.

"Feeling horny Ems," I said playfully as she crept into the shower with me as I washed off the sweat of the day.

Too fucking right," she replied, her hands running all over me, lathering up the soap over my body. "I've probably just landed one of the biggest deals of the year and you've been playing soldier all day...too fucking right I'm feeling horny, got a problem with that?"

"Not me," I said, shuffling around in the tight space and pulling her to me, but we might have to call down to reception and ask them for some extra pillows."

"What for," she asked dipping her head under the water and sighing.

"Oh, because you might need one Ems," I said as I rubbed soap into her back with my hands, or proximity under the shower taking care of the rest of her. "If you're feeling horny then _I'm_ going to have to do something about that, and _we're_ going to need to hide your screams from our ultra-conservative neighbours."

"Promises promises," she replied laughing, kissing my shoulder as she held me tight, "are you quite finished with this shower?"

"I am," I replied with a smile, "why?"

"Because there's fuck all room in here for the two of us and I wouldn't mind a wash myself."

"Fair comment, I said as I spun us around and backed out of the tiny cubicle, grabbing a towel as I went. "I'll call reception should I? I teased as I walked into the room.

"You do that," she called after me, "and when you're done will you do me a favour?"

"What's that?" I asked, poking my head around the door and grinning at the shape of her body through the frosted cubicle door; she really was in fine shape.

"Push those fucking beds together if you can, I really don't want to sleep in a single bed again."

o+o+o

I was feeling pretty good the next morning as I pulled on my bulky vest, sidearm and ammunition pouches after breakfast. I'd had a reasonable night's sleep caused by a very amorous Emily, but I was feeling at least slightly rested and quite, quite satiated after our night of passion.

I wasn't sure if it was the deal, my 'squaddiness' or just the added spice of a bit of 'danger' that had spurred her on, but we had almost needed those extra pillows for soundproofing. It was just as well we'd gone to bed early, because it was pretty late by the time she fell back exhausted and finally curled up to sleep.

We were all business over breakfast though, once again the four of us meeting up in Emily's suite. The LT was looking tired and passed a sarcastic comment about Nigel's ability to snore when Emily pressed him about it, causing us all to laugh.

"It's not funny," he complained, "I've had less sleep that I had when my son was born, he's like a flaming chainsaw."

"Well you can sleep in your own bed tonight LT," I teased with a smile as I ate my cereal, "guess you're just too old for the field trips now?"

"I'm only a year older than you Sarge," he muttered indignantly, "and I bet Emily here didn't keep you awake half the night."

JJ flushed as I risked a sly glance at Ems who choked on her coffee. To my surprise Nigel stood up shaking his head. "Frankly that's a bit too much information for this time of the morning, I'm going to pack, I'm sick of this place already and I've only been here a day."

"Try eight months," I called after him as he walked through the doors into his adjoining suite."

"Without air conditioning as well," JJ added shaking his own head. "But Nigel might be right, I think I'll go and get sorted too."

We met Karl and his team in the lobby as arranged, our vests and weaponry not even causing a second glance from the people at reception. As planned we switched cars, Emily and I in the trailing vehicle this time with a stern faced Australian I hadn't really met. We were about fifteen miles from the airport as the crow flew, but a little bit longer with the journey we had planned, altering our route from the one we had arrived via; and not taking the obvious direct route either.

The streets were crowded with people making the most of the early morning coolness, going about their daily lives before the heat of the summer sun made it necessary to seek shade. We barely warranted a glance as we drove by, our worlds barely touching, as transient as the breeze on your face. The mundanity of life in Baghdad was reassuring, kids playing in the streets as we passed, the constant beeping of horns and the cries of pedestrians. It all seemed so normal, so familiar it was comforting in a strange sort of way.

"You're off again," Emily said, teasing me as I stared out of the window at the world I knew so well, "your mother was right wasn't she?"

"How's that?" I asked turning towards her, thinking that she still managed to look beautiful when hidden under body armour and a bulky helmet, her hair tucked inside for convenience.

"She said that you spend a lot of time in that head of yours," she replied reaching over to tap my helmet, "you really do don't you?"

"I was thinking about Basra, and Kandahar," I told her gesturing out of the window at the street as we turned a corner. "It's all so familiar to me, it's like I never left you know? Makes me wish for what I can't have any more."

"You wish you were still in the Army?" she asked with a sad smile, "that you hadn't been forced out?"

"Sometimes," I admitted nodding away. "I miss the life you know? Miss the danger. I think coming back here brought it back to me, it was a big part of my life Ems so yeah, I wish I hadn't been injured."

I flicked casually at the shoulder guards on my own body armour, "and if I'd worn these like Whitey told me to I might have been ok," I continued thinking of what might have been.

"There is one thing baby," Emily said her hand touching my face gently, "if it hadn't happened then I wouldn't have ever met you; that would have been a tragedy."

Oh I don't know Ems," I replied smiling as she held my hand tightly, "do you not think our paths would have crossed? Destiny and all that?"

"I'd like to think so," she replied, leaning across and kissing me softly, "I'd certainly like to think that was the case." I closed my eyes as her lips touched mine, forgetting in an instant our agreement about being discrete. She was right, to have her in my arms was worth the trauma and the pain; to have her in my life was worth being booted out of the army. As her tongue found mine, I would have not hesitated to call it a blessing.

"FUCK" the Aussie in the front called out suddenly as the car braked violently. I heard the sounds of an explosion from somewhere in front of us and looked up from Emily to see the other car on its roof, bathed in flames. "Get us the fuck out of here fast," he shouted as I saw the familiar shape of an RPG appear on the rooftop, immediately knowing what had happened; we were being fucking ambushed and if we didn't act fast we were dead, or worse. The driver stamped on the accelerator and spun the wheel as I threw myself across Emily's body, putting my body between her and the danger to come. It was his quick thinking that saved us, the round missing us as we lurched away; it impacted about a foot to the side of my door, detonating in a flash of high explosive and molten metal, the car was thrown violently off its wheels, rolling over and over as we were tossed violently around.

When we came to rest I could hear the loud 'ping' of rounds striking the car; the bulletproof glass useless, shattered as we rolled. As I shook my head, my ears whining after the explosion I realised that we had come to rest on our side, and that Emily's seatbelt was the only thing that was holding her in place. Quickly I fumbled with the button to release her and lifted myself off her body to see if she was ok; to my horror she was lying quite still, her eyes closed and her face...

...her face was covered with blood.

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**A/N** now that..._that_ is a cliff-hanger (-:

See you soon, don't forget to complain now, but be nice d-:


	64. Up Shit Creek!

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –**I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness, and a still lingering case of writers block.

I still have nothing to do with Skins, but then do we care about Skins any more?

**Authors Note:** Ha ha, so some of you love cliffhangers and some of you don't, that's good. As for those of you that don't want clifhangers like that ever again…well I can't promise anything. After all I have to keep you coming back for more!

So I have a confession to make, you could have had this on Wednesday as usual, but I wasn't sure if I should add to it, however I've decided that it works better this way so here it is. Now don't complain it's late, I could have put it up left you hanging and not posted again for three months; that would have been cruel (and rubbish) wouldn't it? d-:

Anyways, enjoy.

**Chapter 64– Up Shit Creek!**

"Emily, _Emily!_" I yelled, checking her pulse quickly, looking for some sign of life, as my hand touched her neck her eyes opened and I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Emily, we've got to fucking move," I said as her eyes stared at me unfocusedly. "We've got to get the fuck out of here, are you ok? Where do you hurt?"

"I'm fine," she groaned, "what happened? Did we crash?"

"No we didn't crash, we're under attack Ems, we've got to get the hell out of this car before we're fucked; do you think you can move?"

"I think so," she said, raising her hand to her face and wiping away the blood. "Am I bleeding?"

"Yes, it looks like you've cut your forehead, I said, spotting the steady trickle of blood that was ebbing from the thin ugly gash as she wiped away the blood that had covered her face. "It's nothing too serious, we'll worry about that in a minute," I said reassuringly, already putting it out of my mind and starting to evaluate our options.

To the outsider that would probably seem callous, but right now a scratch like that wasn't our immediate problem, it wasn't exactly life threatening. No, our immediate problem was getting out of this train wreck and into something that resembled cover. Over the endless whining in my ears I could still hear the sound of gunfire, the bad guys hadn't just hit and run, they were sticking around to finish the job; and if we didn't get out of here they'd probably succeed, trapped in here we were sitting fucking ducks.

I looked around me, trying to get an idea of our tactical situation; putting it bluntly we were fucked. The front of the vehicle was totally wrecked, the driver and the Aussie hanging awkwardly in their seats. I had no idea if they were alive or dead, and no time to check them; they were nothing at the moment but an inconvenience, blocking my way to the front windscreen. The obvious way of escape was to climb out of the right hand side doors, but there was no way I was doing that; it would be suicidal to climb onto what was now the top of the car, almost certainly into the path of flying bullets.

Pausing for a second I made my decision, probably the only one I could; spinning around I kicked out at the shattered back window of the truck, wincing and swearing as my battered legs thumped into the glass. Fortunately three more swift, hard, pain filled blows and it was out, cluttering against the dusty surface.

"We're going out the back way," I told a now stirring Emily, thanking the Gods for my insistence on a seatbelt and a helmet. "We're going to crawl to the edge, and then I'm going to cover you ok?"

Emily nodded, her face understandably terrified, unfortunately I didn't have time to comfort her, didn't have the luxury of being able to put my arm around her shoulder and tell her to channel her fear the way I had all those months ago. This time we were well and truly up shit creek, and we weren't just missing a paddle, we didn't even have a fucking canoe to sit in.

"Let's get a fucking move on then soldier," I said forcing a smile I didn't feel onto my face, feeling a little bit happier as she nodded and began to crawl towards the back, her motor functions seemingly unimpaired by the crash.

Carefully I twisted around in the back and used the limited space to slip a magazine into the MP7, cocking it and making Emily jump at the sharp noise. With a deep breath I pulled down the foregrip and slowly crawled past her to the back window; peering out, looking for danger and our next move, spotting an obvious escape route in an instant.

"As soon as I tell you to I want you to get out and run into that alley; you get to the far end and if it's safe then you get your head down and wait for me Emily," I said pointing, "do you understand that?"

Emily nodded, "I want you to count to sixty ok? If you get to sixty and I'm not there, you fucking run, you keep running and you don't look back ok? You find a shop or an office and you get help; do you understand?"

"But..." she stated to protest.

"No buts Emily, there's no time for fucking buts; you count to fucking sixty and if I'm not there you run and you keep fucking running until you're safe, yes?"

She nodded, looking at me in fear and confusion; I winked at her trying to exude an air of calm. "Good, let's keep you alive then Miss Fitch; get ready, more when I tell you."

I crawled out of the car, feeling the warmth of the sun on my face as I escaped the shattered wreck; I was trying to go as fast as I could, but at the same time take no risks, checking around me at all time to ensure that I didn't expose myself to fire. Once I was free I knelt against the rear of the car and extended the butt of the MP7, trying to give myself a useful shooting platform. I chanced a glance around the side of the car, ducking to my right to make myself a smaller target.

"Two on the roof and one on the ground," I muttered to myself as I shifted the rifle to my right hand, forced to use my weaker eye because of the tactical situation. "You ready?" I asked Emily.

"Not really," she murmured, "but I suppose so; I'm scared Nomi."

"Me too," I said unsympathetically, "suck it up soldier; get your arse in gear."

I waited in frustration as Emily took three long breaths, her eyes screwed shut. Seconds were passing as she communed with the fucking universe and my nerves were screaming at being out here with no fucking help; I heard a round ping off the car, followed by a long release of breath and finally Emily replied.

"I'm ready," she said simply, I took another quick glance around the side of the vehicle, fixing the enemy's positions in my mind before speaking.

"Right, crawl out to where I am and then wait," I ordered, waving my left hand behind me to hurry her up; seconds later she was beside me and we were good to go. "On three run for that alley Emily and don't look back ok? Don't forget, count to sixty."

"What about you?"

"Fuck me!" I replied losing my temper, "look Emily, I don't matter right now; you get your fucking arse into that alley when I tell you to and count to sixty. If I'm not there then you have run because I'm not fucking coming, you understand? Now please stop fucking arguing with me and let me do my fucking job."

It was harsh, but it needed to be; I heard her take a deep breath as I risked one more glance around the vehicle, assessing the threats for the third and hopefully final time.

'_Two on the roof, three on the ground now,'_ I said to myself, my mental conversation keeping me calm and sane in the face of what I was about to do. _'Guys on the roof are the first target, take away the high ground, get Ems into cover and then see about the others and get away myself."_

Mind made up I took a deep breath, calming the adrenaline and seeking that void where I could just _be_.

"Get ready," I said not looking back at her, my finger flexing around the trigger; my thumb clicking off the safety, "1, 2, 3."

On the 'T' of the three I leaned around the vehicle and let off a long smooth burst at the bad guys that were shooting from the rooftop, raking the fire across and back in between heartbeats. I had them both cold, basically they were being far too casual, totally sky-lined as they fired down on the cars; obviously thinking that there was going to be no resistance from those inside. The firing abruptly stopped as the ambushers dived for cover, well the ones that were left alive that was. I was pretty sure I'd hit _both_ of the guys on the rooftop, but I _knew_ I'd hit one; his tumbling swan dive to the floor ending with a satisfying thud.

'_One down, one probable, three on the ground.'_

My mind weighed up the possibilities as I ducked back from the incoming fire from the hostiles in front of me, shooting from the uncertain cover of a shop entrance. I had only a few seconds left before Emily would be running as ordered and I had no time to waste fucking about. Emily on her own against three assailants would be like a fish stuck in a barrel; and with a deep breath I readied myself to run.

'_Sort it out Campbell, on three soldier,'_ I told myself, _'1, 2, 3…'_

Quickly I fired the rest of the clip into the air, the shots from behind me ceasing suddenly as the hostiles presumably ducked into cover once more. I didn't stop to check, I was already on the move; briefly I cursed as I lost my helmet, stupidly not bothering to fasten the chin strap when I was in the car. Leaving it to roll in the dirt I hit the wall of the alley and, seeing a panting redhead leaning against a wall at the end, I sprinted towards her and dragged her around a corner out of any possible firing line.

"You ok?" I said as I pushed her behind me, ejecting the magazine of my rifle and fumbling for another clip, my movements unsteady as the adrenaline coursed through me.

"Think so," she replied holding out a shaking hand. I nodded, pulling back the cocking handle to chamber a new round, a shaking hand was a good sign in my book; be it nerves or adrenaline or both, it meant everything was still working.

"Right, this is how we play this," I said risking a glance down the alley, seeing no sign of pursuit. "We're going to work our way to somewhere defensible and hold up and wait for the cavalry to come. We have the advantage here, with luck the good guys will be on their way and these fuckers will want to vanish. We take no fucking chances though; I want you to put your hand on my back ok? Right here,"

I reached behind myself and patted the top of my shoulder blade. "Don't grab me or pull me, just keep your hand pressed against my back so I know you're there, you understand?"

I didn't get a reply, but I felt her hand press against me, even through the bulk of my body armour.

"Do you understand?" I repeated forcibly, "you need to _talk_ to me Emily; I can't risk looking at you right now."

I couldn't either, one of the prime points of an evac' was to ignore the package; as long as you knew they were still with you then you could concentrate on what was ahead or around you. The last thing you needed to do was to get killed worrying more about them than you. The package was your chief concern yes; but to get them out safely on your own you needed to focus on staying alive.

"Hand here, don't grab," Emily repeated mechanically as I ducked back, out of sight of an armed figure that had peered just as cautiously down the alley. I could hear voices and I knew we'd been spotted and needed to move.

"Good, that's the way Ems; now here we go, make sure you keep up."

Half running, half walking with my rifle pointing the way, I led us though the network of streets and alleyways; checking doors wherever I had time to do so, looking for somewhere we could hide. To my disgust every one I tried was locked, I mean, who the fuck thinks about personal security over here? It was a fool's errand and I was in danger of either wasting time and allowing the hostiles to catch us, or getting us lost in the twisty narrow streets. My main concern with that being that I might get totally turned around and lead us back to the ambush site and the fuckers that had hit us in the first place.

Onwards we went, I had decided to work my way across the city by turning left and then right as we fled the danger; hoping that it would keep us on more or less a straight route away from the ambush site. I heard shouting voices as we went and prayed that it wasn't the hostiles tracking us, or the locals giving us away. Sickeningly, it was as I led Emily around a small, open, square that we were hit again; three gunmen, probably the one's I'd missed, appearing to my right and opening fire immediately.

Hastily I shoved Emily into a doorway and knelt in front of her, the high velocity rounds chipping the brickwork around me. Unfazed I managed to get off a good long burst at the three of them as they stood in open cover like idiots, the judder of the MP7 on full auto making my eyes wobble as it spat hot death across the open ground.

Two of the fuckers sensibly chose to dive for the safety of a wall at that point, screaming at each other in a language I couldn't understand. One of them though simply pitched forward, his weapon already falling from his fingers; stone fucking dead.

'_Two down, one probable, two to go, hopefully no more than that.'_

My mind was still relentlessly calling the score as I fired off the rest of my clip keeping the bad guys down while I scanned the plaza for our best way out. One decision and a reload later I dragged Emily out of the doorway and, with her hand firmly placed against my back once more, led her across the square to our exit point. It was awkward to lead her along the side of the buildings, having to step sideways quickly and carefully to ensure that my rifle always trained on the hostile's cover point; letting off a round here and there to keep their heads down. Funnily enough, despite out vulnerability they didn't seem at all interested in firing fucking back as I shot at them, not like they had when they first appeared in the square, emptying their thirty round magazines in a matter of moments. They clearly weren't soldiers; they were nothing but untrained fucking gangsters, all mouth and no trousers. They were all fucking 'great' when they were the 'power team', beating up locals, and ambushing the innocent; but they were totally fucked when they came up against someone with a lot of training and a fuck load of combat experience, especially with the corpse of their comrade lying there in front of them as a object lesson to their own incompetence.

In the distance I could hear the sound of sirens and, glancing up, I could see a pall of smoke rising over the houses; the aftermath of the RPG rounds that had probably killed the rest of my team. Filled with anger I fired off the rest of my clip at the low wall they were hiding behind, scuttling backwards as I reloaded. Just as I got the clip in and the rifle re-cocked, the rounds started flying again; my opponents getting cocky when they realised I'd stopped shooting. Fortunately for me, blind firing isn't very efficient and they hit fuck all but the side of a building two doors down from where we were.

As we backed down the narrow street that was our exit from the dangers of the open square I had an idea; the sirens were getting closer so the bad guys had three choices; they were either looking to get things done quickly, fuck off and avoid getting caught, or martyr themselves for their cause, whatever the fuck that was.

Either way they weren't very good and I knew that the odds were they would make a mistake, and mistakes were the difference between living and dying. I should fucking know, I'd just made a huge one. Still I knew a way that I could make up for my error, I could get Emily to some form of safety and then set myself a trap.

One swift boot, and a splintering of wood later, I'd gained entry to one of the small buildings and Emily and I were inside and looking for cover. Now the tables were turned, we were the ones with the advantage of cover, and indeed surprise. It was two on one and with some careful planning and a little bit of luck the predators would become the prey.

"Find a way out of here," I whispered to Emily, "and keep your head down while you do it. Oh and for fucks sake stay away from the windows just in case."

"What do you want me to do?" she said, her hand still resting on my back.

"Open the door and get the fuck away from here if this goes wrong," I said simply, "run for those sirens and don't stop running until you find a copper or someone from the army."

"What are you going to do," she hissed, "what do you mean if this goes wrong?"

"I'm going to set a trap for these fuckers Ems, they're going to come down here looking for us, and when they do…"

"No Naomi, no," she said with concern in her voice, "let's just keep running it's too risky."

"Not my style Ems," I said as I opened the back door, looking out into the alley carefully. "My job is to keep you alive, and if I can keep these fuckers off your back then I'm doing it. Now fuck off and stand by that door, if you hear me stop shooting and I'm not still talking to you, get the fuck out of here."

"NO!" she shouted, "you work for me and I'm ordering you not to do this."

"Do as your fucking told Miss Fitch," I shouted back, hunkering down and tucking in against the doorframe as tightly as I could. "Just fucking trust me ok? Trust me to do my job in the best way I can."

There was an affronted silence before I heard her walk away, her footsteps drowned in the sound of shouting, the distinctive bark of an AK-47 and the sound of rounds hitting brickwork. I didn't even blink; it was all good, the hostiles were walking right into my trap.

This time I had my good eye looking down the reflective sight, the little red dot giving me the perfect aiming point; I sighted up down the alley and waited for our pursuers, still as a corpse, hidden against the wall and the cardboard box I'd dragged over the parts of me that were protruding from the doorway. It wasn't the best camouflage in the world, but it had worked for me many times on the streets of London and hopefully it would work here against two adrenaline fuelled idiots; hopefully they wouldn't see me until it was too late.

I was breathing slowly and carefully as I peered down the sights, willing myself to become invisible. Calmness was the secret to a good ambush and I was perfectly calm, totally at home on that razors edge between living and dying. For the first time in months, since Emily had last been attacked, I felt totally, one hundred percent alive; this was what I'd been born for, this was who I was.

As I stared down the sights, the tiny red dot rising and falling with my breathing, the gentle spirals not distracting me one bit as I listened to the shouts and the gunfire coming nearer and nearer as my opponents got braver. With a flurry of shooting they sprinted into the alley, firing randomly down the narrow gap as they ran, obviously not spotting me. Slowly I sighted up and waited for my chance, allowing them to come closer and waiting for the opportunity that I knew would come. Within seconds it arrived, one of the fuckers running out of ammunition; as he paused to reload I sighted up on his comrade and fired a three round burst, dropping him cold.

I didn't bother watching him fall, I knew my work was not yet done; coldly I sighted the red dot on the now panicking terrorist, lining up on him as he tried to jam the magazine into his weapon with unskilled hands. He was only a young man, probably only just into his twenties but it didn't bother me; he was old enough to carry a weapon, old enough to try to kill my friends and me, old enough to die.

Lost in his frenzied panic, the terrorist's hands betrayed him; dropping the magazine to the floor with a clunk I could hear from where I lay; with a look of horror on his face he stared down the alley, his eyes searching out what he must have known was his impending doom, desperately searching for a miracle that wasn't going to come. Carefully, as if he was just another paper target on the range, I squeezed the trigger; the MP7 recoiling five times as the burst powered itself down the alley towards my victim.

I felt no guilt as I watched the rounds smack into his body, the bursts of red blood appearing as they pierced the all too fragile flesh. I may have ambushed them, murdered them some would say; but they had attacked my package, probably killed my comrades, and they'd done it all in the coldest of cold blood…

Fuck them, they were cowards, and they deserved all they got.

'_Four down, one probable, game fucking over…hopefully."_

"Ems, wait there," I called out, before she ran from the door as my burst ended, my weapon still pointed at the two bodies. Slowly I got to my feet and, shrugging off my cardboard camouflage, stepped out into the alley; tracking my sights left and right as I carefully approached the first body. Quickly I kicked the fallen AK out of the way and booted the body in the inside of the knee, a tactic that took me all the way back to my first meeting with Effy, a tactic that told me that the fucker wasn't going to cause me a problem any more. Thirty seconds later I'd confirmed that the last guy was not going to be an issue ever again either. He wasn't dead, but he wasn't long for the world, panting out his last breaths as he lay on the dirt; his hand reaching out for his weapon. Standing over him I looked down into his pain filled eyes and watched him as he died, my foot firmly planted on the useless AK, denying him it simply because I could, sweeping it far from his flailing grasp with the toe of my boot, enjoying the look he gave me as I sighted my rifle onto his head.

I didn't fire, though it might have been the kindest thing to do; to put him out of his agony. A small part of me didn't want his pain to end though, wanting him to suffer as much as he had made us suffer. That wasn't the reason I didn't kill him there and then though, the reason I didn't pull the trigger was simple, I was a solder not a murderer. If I fired now I would be a criminal, no better than the fuckers that had ambushed me, no more than a terrorist myself.

As the youngster breathed his last I turned and walked away, giving him no further thought. Quickly I walked back into the house to collect my package, finding her curled up in a ball against a wall, her hands wrapped around her knees tightly, rocking slightly as she had done once before.

"Time to get out of here," I said, holding out my right hand to her, my left firmly placed on my weapon.

"Don't know if I can," she muttered, gripping herself even tighter.

"Get the fuck up Fitch," I shouted unsympathetically, knowing that we weren't out of danger yet. "We can't wait here all fucking day; there may be more of them out there."

I grabbed her by the vest and dragged her to her feet, ignoring her protests. I still had a job to do here and despite the bodies in the alley I wasn't lying, there might still be danger ahead.

"Put your hand on my back," I ordered, "let's get the fuck out of here."

I could hear Emily sniffling behind me as I worked my way through the streets, looking for the cavalry; the red dot of my sight constantly in vision as I led her ever onward. I wasn't fazed, didn't actually care; I'd shoved the part of me that cared about Emily Fitch deep down inside of me, trusting on my instincts to get us out of the shit we were in. I couldn't afford to think about her, couldn't afford to make the same mistake that had cost us so much. If I'd have been paying attention on our drive to the airport I would have seen the fuckers on the roof. If I'd seen them then, we could have avoided the ambush and everyone would be alive; it was my fault that we were in this position, and it was my responsibility to get us out of it.

Five minutes after the gun battle and I thought I'd done just that, spotting what looked like a police car at the end of a street. As we walked towards the vehicle, one of the uniformed officers appeared, drawing his weapon and pointing it straight at us; slowly I raised my right hand, lowering my weapon with my left. Trying to appear as neutral as possible we walked towards the car, under the unwavering aim of the officer's firearm.

It was making my trigger finger itch to be targeted like this, but all I could do was raise my hands and take step after careful step; praying all the time that the copper didn't panic and open fire. Slowly we inched along until we were almost level with the car, and I was nearly able to relax; before I could offer an explanation though, I caught a movement from my right out of the corner of my eye, and before I could flinch, I heard Emily scream and my world went black.

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**A/N** Not a cliffhanger!

That was fun to write, hope you enjoyed it (-: See you all soon.


	65. Post Traumatic Stress Fracture

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness, a heavy case of writers block and a ex I could happily put in the Basement with Naomi right now!

I still nothing to do with Skins, (but then do we care about Skins any more?).

**Authors Note: **OK so people keep telling me that was a cliffhanger at the end of chapter 64, so let me explain why I don't consider it one.

For me a cliffhanger is a position of real drama, real doubt; something that hints at death or serious injury. Everything else is a teaser; just something to make you want to keep reading. I don't mind using lots of teasers, because that's part of the art, (got to keep you all coming back); but true cliffhangers, (like the Emily one in ch63) should be used sparingly IMO…I hate stories that drop them in all over the place just for the sake of it. Too many cliffhangers make you go "oh here we go again" and I hope I never get to that point, because, again IMO, stories like that become really fucking boring.

If you honestly look back through CP there aren't that many real cliffhangers, but I will admit to enjoying people's reactions when I do use one d-:

Anyway, enough of my rambling here's chapter 65, enjoy.

**Chapter 65– Post Traumatic Stress Fracture**

I woke up in a bed, but I had no idea where the fuck I was; I was tucked up tightly and my head was fucking throbbing. As I opened my eyes wincing against the light I saw a familiar face staring down at me, blurred though it was.

"Hey you," Emily said with a smile, "you had me worried there; how you feeling?"

That was a question, how was I feeling? Pretty shit as far as I could tell. My head was pounding and my vision was fucked. I stared up at Emily's smiling face, my rattled brain blinking rapidly, trying desperately to bring her into focus.

"Where am I?"

It was the only question on my lips as I stared at her, confused and concerned.

"It's ok babe, you're in a hospital," she replied, drifting into focus as my eyes managed to make sense of the world. "You've had a nasty knock."

"What happened?" I asked, my memory not giving me the information I needed.

"You got hit in the head babe," she replied, reaching out to touch me, "one of the police officers we approached thought you were a threat and hit you with his rifle."

"Is that why my face hurts?" I replied, reaching up and tugging at a dressing that was attached to my forehead.

"I'm afraid so, now stop playing with it before you make it worse," she replied pulling my hand away from the dressing and across back down to the bed; squeezing my fingers tightly. "The policeman hit you quite hard; you've been out for ages."

"How long?" I asked, my mind trying to put two and two together from what I could see around me and getting nothing.

"About a day," she said shocking the fuck out of me. "Like I say he hit you pretty hard, bastard said he hit you because you were carrying a gun in a threatening way, and that we were lucky not to have been shot. It took a lot of fast talking to convince them you weren't a danger to them."

"A danger to them?" I repeated confused, having no idea what she meant, "I had my fucking hands up."

"That's what he said," she replied with a smile, rubbing her thumb over my knuckles soothingly, "and you didn't have your hands up hun, when you were in front of me you only had one hand up, the other was still on that rifle you were carrying. Originally they thought you were responsible for the attack; but I managed to convince them you weren't"

"How did you do that?" I asked wincing in pain as I sat up.

"It wasn't easy," she said with a smile, "but I think throwing myself across your body and sobbing my lungs out helped."

"You did that?" I asked, wondering why.

"Of course I did," she said caressing my cheek, "I thought they were going to kill you. Instead they stopped and got an interpreter and when I explained things they were all apologetic and brought you here to get you patched up; we've been waiting for ages for you to come around."

"We?" I replied, staring at her with confusion in my eyes, it was all too much; I didn't have a clue as to what was going on.

"Yes _we_," a familiar voice said from the other side of my bed. "You gave us all quite a scare there blondie." I turned towards that voice and saw the serious face of James Cook staring back at me, eyebrow raised.

What the fuck are you doing here?" I muttered, surprised to see the face of my boss here, half way around the world from where I had seen him last.

"There's gratitude for you, "he said winking at Emily, "I drop everything and fly thousands of miles non-stop to get here and all I get is abuse from my staff…why the hell do you _think_ I'm here Naomikins? I'm here to see you." He patted me gently on the leg, "and Jeremiah of course, but as his medical people won't let me in to see him at the moment, I've had to put up with sitting here all night waiting for you to get off your lazy ass and wake up."

"The LT's alive?" I asked in surprise, my pain fuddled brain struggling to accept it. I'd seen the state of that vehicle as we'd made our escape and it was tough to see how anyone could have survived it.

"Only just, Cook said shaking his head sadly, "and they doubt he'll ever walk again, but he's breathing on his own and that's a good sign for now."

I felt a spasm of guilt grip me, the LT was alive but crippled, and it was all my fucking fault; if I hadn't been twatting about with Emily in the back of that car perhaps it wouldn't have happened.

"How is everyone else?" I asked Cook, ignoring Emily with a pain that was palpable.

"Well like I said, JJ is out of surgery," he said with a frown, "he's in a bad way, but he's going to live. His driver was killed and Karl got pretty shot up too; he's back in surgery now, something about missing a bleeder. Apart from you four, no one else made it. It was a fucking mess Naomi, and the only reason anyone survived it was because someone distracted the ambushers."

"Who?" I asked, getting a squeeze on my leg from, presumably, Emily.

"Well, actually blondie," Cook said, his drawl noticeable as he spoke, "I think that might have been you. From the reports I've been getting, you pretty much saved the day."

"I just did my job boss," I replied lying back against the sheets and closing my eyes, "nothing more than what you pay me for."

I hadn't though had I? I hadn't done my fucking job, I'd allowed myself to become distracted and other people had paid for my stupidity with their lives; and even if he lived, JJ was never going to walk again. Yet more people that I owed a debt to, yet more people to repay.

"More that that Nomi," Emily said, and I felt her take my hand, "Much more than that; you saved my life again, saved all of us."

With some effort I resisted the urge to snatch my hand away, from her. I didn't want her gratitude for nearly killing her, just wanted to turn back the clock. I felt her grip me tightly, her hands warm and clammy as they surrounded mine.

"When can I get out of here?"I asked, hating the feeling of being in hospital again.

"They're going to keep you in for a while babe," Emily replied causing me to groan in annoyance. "They want to make sure you're ok," she continued massaging my knuckles, "they were worried that you might have had a fractured skull and then they wanted to see how you were before they discharged you in case you had concussion."

"Talking of which, what happened to your helmet blondie?" Cook interrupted, changing the subject neatly. "I know you've got a thick skull an'all, but that might have helped."

"Lost it in the attack," I said simply, staring at him; trying to look innocent.

"You _lost it?" _he replied incredulously, though I could hear the teasing tone in his voice. "Well hell I may have to _charge_ you for that Naomi. Can't just have my employee's losing their kit now can I? As I recall, that's a car _and_ a helmet you've cost me now; you're fast becoming an expensive liability, kit wise that is."

"Well I didn't exactly have time to go pick it up you know," I replied, the banter falling easily from my lips. "I was kind of busy being shot at, _again_. I sort of had better things to think about than a bit of company property you know?"

"What could be more important than a piece of equipment that has been issued to you Sergeant Campbell?" Cook said barely holding the laughter out of his voice; Emily looking between us confusedly, as if trying to work out if we were joking or insane.

"Well there was the small matter of having my package to keep alive boss," I replied simply; nodding towards Emily, knowing that shot was going to be the winning goal in our little competition. "Not to mention the 'being shot at again' part."

"Well I', glad you had you're priorities straight regarding the job," he teased, adding, "and the 'being shot at, _again'_, does tend to focus the mind my friend, even I cannot argue with that."

He teased me for a bit longer, nothing too serious, but all the time getting my side of what had happened. It was probably one of the most relaxed debriefs that I'd ever had, but it really wasn't a subject I wanted to discuss right there and then and Cook probably knew it.

"So when _can_ I get out of here?" I interrupted finally having enough, feeling the throbbing in the side of my head get worse as the conversation went on, "…and can someone please get me some aspirin or something?"

"You'll get out when the docs say you can Campbell," Cook said switching tack immediately, but with finality in his voice. "As for the aspirin, well I'll go find someone and see if they can't get you something."

"Thanks," I muttered as I heard a chair scrape backwards.

"No worries," Cook said as his hand rested on my shoulder, "I'm fucking proud of you blondie; you get some rest now ok? Sooner you rest, sooner you're out of here."

"Sure boss," I said sinking back further into the pillows with a sigh, "will do."

There was a silence in the room after a door swung shut, a silence that was only broken by the sound of breathing; mine and Emily's. The silence hung over us for what felt like hours, neither of us seemingly willing to do anything about it. All I wanted right now was for her to take the hint and leave me alone, leave me in peace with my thoughts. All I could think about was the moments before the attack; that happy moment of joking and kissing before the world all changed. I could feel the familiar tendrils of guilt creeping through me, telling me what I already knew; I'd fucked up, I'd fucked up big time.

"Nomi," Emily said finally startling me into opening my eyes, she got up from her chair and sat on the edge of the bed, her hand still gripping mine. "You did it again baby, you saved my life again; I have no idea how I'm going to repay you for that, thank you seems so utterly pathetic."

"It's what I do," I said as her lips gently touched me, pressing a chaste kiss to my cheek.

"Doesn't mean I love you any less for it baby," she whispered as she leant back suddenly as a nurse walked into my room, followed by a grinning Cook. Without blinking he sat on the other side of my bed and grabbed my hand, mirroring Emily exactly, leaning down to kiss me on the cheek as well.

"Now I brought you a nice nurse with some lovely painkillers dear," he said with a wink, "so don't be an arse and do as she says."

"Fuck off boss," I told him with the first hint of a smile on my face. His humour was infectious and, despite the fact I knew I had nothing to smile about, I couldn't help reacting.

That's more like it blondie," he said with a grin, "I was convinced for a few minutes there that you had some form of brain damage you know?"

"Fuck _off_ boss," I repeated taking the tablets the nurse was holding out, his face stoney at our banter, "go get me a drink of water."

"Hey, I _am_ the boss remember?" Cook said, laughing finally and trying desperately to look affronted. "Get your own damned water."

"I'll go and get you some Nomi," Emily said getting up from the bed and smiling at the nurse who was still looking at us all. "I'll get you some bottled stuff just in case; I think I saw a vending machine down the hall."

"Where do you think you're going?" I said trying to get out of bed; wincing slightly as Cook's hand stopped me from moving; pressing on my chest and pushing me back.

"Easy blondie," he said removing his hand at my angry look. "Emily's in no danger out there, there's cops crawling all over this place right now. I'll stand in the doorway and watch her all the way if it makes you feel better."

"You should still go with her boss," I said quietly as the nurse finally headed for the door. I had no idea if he could speak English, so I kept my comments all business. "I'm only in here because I dropped my guard for a second, let's not fuck up again."

"Dropped your guard," Emily said, spinning on her heels as the nurse fucked off. "When did you drop your guard? It's not your fault that stupid bastard hit you with his rifle."

I shook my head, annoyed with myself that she overhead me, happy that she misunderstood what I meant.

"Not your fault," she repeated firmly walking out of the door before Cook could move. I gestured at him to follow her, but he smiled and shook his head, pointing at the window where I saw a familiar face.

"Is that Andy?" I asked as the figure walked away, following Emily as she went in search of my bottled water.

"In the flesh," Cook replied, "called up the office while I was getting a flight organised and asked if I needed support over here. After he heard about the attack he wanted to make sure you and Emily were ok; he's a good guy, a real asset."

"Yeah," I said softly, he was a good guy, they all were; all better than me anyway. 'Jonah' Campbell had struck again. I'd let myself become close to people, Emily, the LT, Cook; I'd become close to them all, let my guard down and fucked up. I was a jinx, a liability, a fucking curse.

For the second time in my short life I made a vow that no-one would get hurt again because of me and my carelessness, no-one else would have to die because of me; and this time I meant it.

o+o+o

The doctor came to see me not long after Emily came back with my water, the painkillers I'd been given barely scratching the surface of the headache I had. After some poking and prodding and the obligatory shining of a fucking torch in my eyes, the white coated wanker jabbered away at his colleague who translated the bad news.

"We would like you to stay in overnight. Make sure there are no complications," he said in broken English; broken English that was better than my broken Arabic. "If all is well you can leave tomorrow."

I wasn't happy, but I didn't really have a choice; Emily and Cook letting me know in no uncertain terms that leaving the hospital wasn't an option. As the night drew in I was left in my bed, feeling alone and fucking miserable. Emily had left, gone back to the hotel for a clean up and some food at my insistence; Cook going with her, acting in my stead. She'd promised to return as soon as she was done, but I'd told her to get some sleep instead.

My head was still reeling from the events of the day; my mind replaying every moment, every second, every single heartbeat from the beginning to the end. After I was served a bowl of soup and some bread for my meal it was drugs time, and I was given a pill to help me sleep. Normally I would have thrown it across the room, but this time I swallowed it happily, hoping for oblivion.

o+o+o

_I could feel the sun on my face and heard the sounds of battle raging around me; opening my eyes I found myself in a familiar rocky hollow, the cold air freezing my breath in front of me as I surveyed the scene. I knew precisely where I was, how could I not? It was the place, ten miles outside Gereshk, where my life as I knew it ended._

_As the hollow went silent, the sounds of battle fading away into the distance, the hollow being surrounded by the grey fog that I knew so well. I could taste the arid odour of burning rubber; smell the familiar smell of death and decay. I knew exactly what was coming._

"_Why did you kill us Campbell? Why?" _

_The figures loomed menacingly out of the fog; the faces, new and old, beginning to solidify as they shuffled towards me. Faces of Nigel and the Aussie and the two drivers; people who's names I couldn't even remember, who'd died because of me._

"_Why did you kill us Campbell? Why? Why did you kill us Campbell? Why did you let us down?" _

_I protested my innocence as I always did; I hadn't got them all killed, most of the time I'd just been there, an innocent bystander. Joanna had told me that over and over again in an attempt to assuage my guilt; somewhere in my subconscious though, I obviously didn't believe her._

"_You failed us all Campbell," Whitey said pushing his way to the front of the figures, standing in front of me, the blood still pouring from that huge ugly wound. "You fail everyone."_

"_I didn't fail you Paul," I shouted, "it was your _turn_; I know that now, it was your fucking turn."_

"_It was your _job_ Campbell; it was your job to go first." He replied, his dead eyes boring into mine._

_"You failed your best friend," McClair said, appearing next to Whitey, my accusers standing side by side as they had over so many nights. "You failed him like you fail everyone that you are supposed to care about, like you failed me."_

"_You even failed the Lieutenant," Whitey said, his hand rising to point at me. "We saw him before they called him back. You failed JJ and you nearly killed him too, and you know you'll do it again."_

"_I made one mistake," I screamed, "One! I took my eye off the ball for one second and we got attacked, it wasn't my fault."_

"_It's always your fault Campbell," a new voice called out, a familiar voice, one that I knew immediately._

_The crowd in front of me parted, a smaller figure walking through them to stand between McClair and Whitey. As the others faded into the fog I was left in the hollow alone, alone with the diminutive red head that was starring at me, her head bleeding from a long gash across her forehead, her body riddled with bullet wounds._

"_It's always your fault," she repeated as I was struck dumb by the sight of her shattered body, her left arm hanging loosely by her side. "You always make mistakes; you always fuck up when you're really needed."_

_I shook my head as she raised her right hand accusingly, "Why did you kill us Campbell," she said, and my stomach lurched. "Why? Why did you kill me Nomi? Why did you kill us all?"_

o+o+o

I woke with a start, the smell of burning rubber still lingering from the nightmare that had gripped me; my scream of horror lost in a painfully dry throat. Breathing heavily I reached out to grab my bottle of water from the cabinet to my left, only to get the relief of my life; fast asleep with her head resting on the edge of my bed was my Emily, alive and well, my dream obviously just one more stupid nightmare.

For a few moments I simply stared at her, my need for water forgotten as I drank her in; her utter perfection showing itself as she slept. In the dim light from the hallway she looked like a film star; like a heroine from a bygone age of beauty and glamour.

"She wouldn't stay away," I heard Cook say as I ran my hand through the red hair.

"I guessed as much," I whispered back, careful not to wake her, looking towards the sound of his voice to see him sitting in a chair by the door.

"Would you believe she actually threatened to kick me in the balls if I didn't bring her straight back here?"

"I'd believe it," I replied; thinking how like her it actually was. Cook didn't really know Emily, not as well as I did anyway; I knew her strength, her passion, her absolute commitment to everything she held dear, seemingly including me.

"She seemed pretty concerned about you blondie, I kept telling her you were made of stronger stuff and that she shouldn't worry, and that she should just get some rest; but she just kept telling me that her place was here by your side. Little girl has got it bad for you, but then you knew that didn't you?"

"Guess so," I said looking down at her. "But then she's hardly the sharpest pencil in the case is she? I'm not exactly a catch."

"Aw, you're not that bad Naomi; everyone likes you you know? You're not as bad as you like to think you are."

"Fuck you Cook," I said with a smile on my face, brushing Emily's hair with my hand as she stirred slightly.

"Fuck you right back blondie," he whispered, winking at me as Emily's head lifted from the bed, her big eyes blinking rapidly as she gradually woke.

"Why are you awake?" she muttered looking at her watch. Yawning and covering her mouth with her arm she stared at me with concern in her eyes; "How are you feeling?"

"I'm feeling fine," I said as her hand reached out to grip mine, "I had a bit of a bad dream that woke me up that's all, nothing serious."

Emily frowned at me, her face furrowing, "it wasn't another nightmare was it? They're not back again are they?"

"Nah," I replied gingerly shaking my head, lying through my teeth; my front ones, and my back ones. "It was just a bit of a bad dream that's all; nothing I wouldn't have expected after today's…yesterday's events."

"You will tell me," she said, reaching out to take my hand once more, yawning noisily, a yawn that disguised what she said after that. "You will won't you?"

"I'm fine," I lied again, guessing what she meant; pulling back my hand to cover my mouth as I caught her yawn, "you look shattered, why don't you go back to sleep?"

Emily yawned again and blinked, looking at us both, "because I've only just woken up babe," she replied disagreeably, "and you're awake so why would I want to go straight back to sleep?"

"Because you usually do," I replied slyly, getting an amused snort from Cook.

"Oh piss off," she said sitting up and rolling the cricks out of her neck; her hair swishing attractively in the dim light. She was perfect, totally and utterly perfect and I had nearly denied the world that perfection through my carelessness. She was wonderful and I had nearly killed her, I couldn't do it again. I couldn't allow someone I loved to die because of my unthinking stupidity.

I knew what I had to do; I had to make sure the woman I loved stayed alive.

I had to end this, I just had to.

o+o+o

There was a faint hint of warmth as we walked out of the airport, London's afternoon air filled with the damp humidity that was typical of a British summer. I cut a forlorn figure as I walked across the pavement to the waiting car.

"Jesus Naomi, that's one hell of a bruise," Effy said as she opened the door and got out, opening the boot for our luggage. "Are you and Emily having a competition or something?"

"We thought we'd get matching bruises," Emily said as she hugged the brunette, "you know? It's a 'couple' thing, like matching anoraks except a lot more painful."

"I think matching anoraks is painful enough," Effy said shuddering dramatically. "How are you doing Naomi?"

"Cook said to say he'll be back in a couple of days," I said ignoring her question, "he said he's going to wait with the LT until he's allowed to leave."

"Poor JJ," Effy said frowning, "how is he doing?"

"He's alive, but they say he'll never walk again," I told her sadly, the pain still too much to bear.

"James told me last time we spoke," Effy replied with a sad shake of her head, "he said they thought Jeremiah had broken his back; he's hoping that when they get him home he might be able to get better treatment than out there."

"I have my fingers crossed for him," Emily interrupted as I ushered her into Cook's convertible. "I've arranged for the best treatment we can get, mum has called in a few favours as well. We'll look after him, it's the least we can do."

"He'll appreciate that," Eff replied as she climbed into the driver's seat. "Lara is understandably frantic; James has told her not to fly out though, he promised her that he'll stay with him as long as it takes."

"I heard," I replied, trying not to think about the consequences of my stupidity. "I hope he's right, Cook told me he was hoping that some decent treatment over here will prove the Iraqi medical people wrong."

"Here's hoping," Emily said squeezing my leg, "he's a really good guy; he doesn't deserve to end up crippled because of me and my stupid job."

'_Because of me actually'_ I thought as Effy started the engine and drove us away from the airport. It was all my fault I knew, and I didn't need people constantly reminding me of it.

"So how are you feeling Emily?" Effy said, looking at me in the rear view mirror, "James told me you guys were lucky to be alive."

"I'm fine," Emily said hooking her arm into mine. "I keep having nightmares about it all, but I think that's normal."

"Normal?" Effy exclaimed with a snort. "I bet it is; I still have bad dreams about what happened when I first met Naomi, those two guys terrified me."

"Me too," Emily replied making me feel even worse. "I still have the odd bad dream about the first time I met Naomi too; fortunately she's around still to keep me safe."

"Reassuring isn't it?" Effy said, our eyes meeting in the mirror, hers squinting as she looked into mine. "Just as well we keep her around then isn't it?"

"You're telling me," Emily said squeezing my arm affectionately. It didn't make me feel better; in fact it made me feel worse. She'd summed things up neatly there, she was having nightmares about the attacks, both of them; attacks that coincided with my arrival in her life. I had been trying to make the break from her for days now, practically since I was released from that shitty Iraqi hospital, but I just hadn't been able to do it; every time I thought I had the opportunity something happened, or I simply lost my bottle. Failing over and over again I'd finally taken the cowards option, resorting to the same tactic that had worked with every other relationship I'd had; slowly pulling back, pushing her away and hoping she'd do the dirty work for me, like Amy had…eventually.

"Well we'd better make sure nothing happens to her then," Effy replied, her blue eyes locked on mine; I simply frowned at her questioning look, ignoring her and looking away, staring out of the window as we travelled towards home in silence.

o+o+o

"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Effy said as we sat in Emily's living room waiting while she unpacked her things.

"Nothing," I replied carefully, knowing that nothing was further from the truth.

"Fuck off Naomi," Effy replied sneering at me, "I may not know you well, but I know you well enough to know there's something wrong with you."

"I'm fine," I told her, getting a raised eyebrow in response. "I am!"

"You are what babes?" Emily said appearing in the doorway a tray in her hands.

"Fine," I replied, frowning at Effy's look. "Effy was just saying that I was looking a bit tired and I was saying that I'm fine."

"Well that's good," Emily said, placing the tray on the table and pouring us all drinks, "Because I know you've not been sleeping well recently."

"I told you that were looking a bit pale, have you not been sleeping Naomi?" Effy probed, staring right at me. "Are you sure there's nothing wrong?"

"Nothing that should concern you," I replied coldly, getting an annoyed nudge from Emily as she sat next to me. Effy just continued to stare at me as she sipped at her tea, her expression guarded, her face unreadable.

"Naomi's been a bit troubled since the incident," Emily said, neatly compartmentalising everything that had happened to us in one neat word. 'Incident' it made it sound so sterile, so simple, so fucking clean. That day had been anything but clean, and my nights had been filled with it over and over again.

"I don't blame her though," Emily continued endlessly blathering on, reminding me a little of Amy. "I've been having trouble sleeping too, but I'm not so stubborn that I won't take a pill to get by."

"I don't like talking drugs," I replied putting down my empty cup with a loud clink. "I've taken enough of them for a lifetime over the last few days."

"Babe you've not slept properly for over three days now," Emily said sighing and leaning her head against my shoulder. "You're worrying me."

"I don't need sleep Ems," I said with a frown, "I just need a bit of peace and quiet, that's all."

"You need to sleep Naomi," Effy said, looking across at Emily, a fleeting glimpse of concern in her eyes; "it's making you grumpy by the sounds of things. If you're going to keep snapping at us all then I think you should take one of Emily's pills or some decent painkillers and crash out. I'll stay with her if it makes you feel any better."

"Thanks but no thanks," I replied thinking that in the event of an emergency Effy would be nigh on useless. "No offence Eff, but you're not exactly the bodyguard type, you know what I mean?"

"True," she said with a shake of her head at my comments, "but I can make a phone call and have Andy here again if you'd like? He hasn't gone back to Bath yet."

"I'm fine," I replied getting a serious look in return.

"I think I'll make that phone call anyway Naomi; I really think it would do you good, you look done in. What do _you_ think Emily?"

"Oh for fucks sake, whatever," I said before Emily could join in the nagging, getting up and grabbing my bag from the corner of the room; picking it up and carrying it to my room, ignoring the looks from the two of them as I walked out.

I was messing about in 'my' room when I head a knock at the door; before the others could do something stupid I abandoned my still packed case and walked out into the hallway, peering out through the spyglass.

"Sarge," Andy said as I opened the door carefully, peering out into the hallway for a sign of danger. "Miss Stonem called me, said you needed backup?"

"Need a break," I replied as I let him in, closing the door after him but not applying all of the latches as usual.

"Well that's what I'm here for boss," he replied with a wink as he stepped into the living room, waving at Emily and Effy. I could hear the familiar greetings as I walked back to my room, leaving them to it as they said their hellos.

I listened to the polite chatter between them feeling deeply troubled, all the time recovering in Iraq had showed me that I was too damned close, that I was so close I couldn't isolate myself the way I needed to, the way Andy could. I was far too close and it was affecting my ability to think, let alone do my job. I'd never been in a situation like this and it was messing with my head in a big way; a very big way.

I could hear them talking about me as I loitered in the hallway, Emily and Effy's voices carrying clearly as I leant against the wall.

"_How is she really holding up Emily?"_ Effy asked, _"She doesn't seem herself."_

"_I don't know Eff, she seems so withdrawn these days, it's not like her."_

"_She has gone through a pretty traumatic experience," _Effy replied calmly, _"you all have; you've got to give her time that's all. Post traumatic stress and all that, didn't you say she's had it before?"_

"_Yeah, a few times I think, she told me about when we discussed her nightmares,_" Emily replied and I frowned at the fact that she'd obviously been discussing me with Effy; at fucking length by the sounds of things.

"_I'm sure she'll sort herself out,"_ Effy replied, _"she just needs a bit of time and a lot of support that's all."_

"_I hope you're right about that Eff," _Emily continued, making my heart sink that little bit more. _"I really hope you're right."_

I left them to their chat, heading back into my room and sorting myself out as they gossiped about me. I'd just managed to zip up my case when I heard a knock on the doorframe and looked up to see Effy staring at me, an eyebrow raised.

"Something you want to share?" she asked, nodding at the case on the bed.

"Not really," I replied, sitting on the bed in front of my case blocking it from her view. "I'm just sorting out a few things, that's all."

"Really?" she replied, folding her arms, "we thought you were sleeping not packing."

"I'm doing neither," I said, choosing my words carefully, "but I am thinking of putting my head down for a bit now you've interfered and got Andy here."

"Don't be mad Naomi," Effy said coming over and sitting on the bed next to me. "You clearly need rest and James did ask me to keep an eye on you, he said you've been blaming yourself for what happened…is that true?"

"None of his fucking business," I said harshly, looking for a hint of anger in her eyes at my words, but finding nothing but sadness.

"Ah," she replied calmly, I'll take that as a yes then. Emily's worried about you Naomi, James is worried about you; fuck it even I'm worried about you, if you need to talk this out with someone I'm here, you know that don't you?"

"I've got a shrink for that thanks," I replied a little bit bitchily I thought, but not able to help myself, "if I need to talk to someone I think she'll be my best bet don't you?"

"Ok Naomi," Effy said sighing and getting up, "if you don't want anyone to help you then that's fine; doesn't mean we won't stop trying. We all love you, you know?"

She walked over to the doorway and paused, not turning around. "One of us loves you more than everyone else though Naomi…and you need to think about her too."

'_I am,' _I thought to myself as Effy closed the door, _'that's who I am thinking about.'_

o+o+o

I lay on my bed staring at the ceiling, willing myself towards a sleep that sought desperately to evade me. After about half an hour I gave up, standing up and walking into the bathroom to rinse off my face. I could hear the others talking as I walked into the hallway, their voices sounding happy, a mood that did not suit my own. I thought about walking away, walking back into my room and away from them all but before I could, there was a knock at the door.

"I'll get it," I heard Andy say as I put my eye to the glass to see Jenna and Katie stood in the hallway, their respective CPO's flanking them, eyes alert. Carefully I opened the door and looked out, watching Jenna's eyes light up as she realised it was me.

"Oh I'm sorry Sarge," Andy said from behind me as he realised I had beaten him to the door. "I thought you were asleep, any problems?"

"No problems," I said shutting the door again and unhooking the chain before swinging it open again to let the crowd into Emily's tiny flat.

"Naomi!" Jenna exclaimed as she wrapped her arms around me, squeezing me tightly. "Oh my dear child you've done it again, what would we do without you."

"Ooof," I exclaimed as she squeezed the very life out of me. "Please Jenna I can't breathe."

"Sorry, sorry," she mumbled as she released me, her hands resting on my shoulders as she looked at me, her eyes flicking to the ugly little wound on my head. "Forgive me for saying it but you look terrible dear; that must hurt a lot."

"Not really," I said flatly, shaking my head. "It's pretty much gone down now, no pain left."

"Well that's a relief, other than that are _you_ ok dear?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.

"I'm fine," I told her, repeating something that I'd repeated a hundred million times over the course of my life "don't worry about me Jenna, all part of the job."

'I'm fine' had become my mantra over the years, becoming the door to the hiding place where I put everything that I couldn't deal with. _'I'm fine'_ I'd told people when I was being bullied at school, _'I'm fine'_ I'd said to the few people I'd spoken to after mum died. _'I'm fine'_ I'd said all the way through my combat tours, as I faced the daily horrors of war. 'I'm fine', 'I'm always fucking fine'; except I knew that this time I wasn't. I was broken, something was very wrong in my head and I needed to sort it out.

Jenna opened her mouth as if to reply, as if about to question what I had tried to assert, then to my relief turned away as Emily called for her from the doorway, staring at her cut head in horror. I wasn't alone for long as mother and daughter embraced, finding myself caught up in an awkward and embarrassed hug from Katie Fitch-Brace herself.

"Nice job again Campbell," she said softly, patting me on the back.

"All part of the service," I replied again trying a bit harder this time; my voice light, but still unemotional.

"Yeah, but even so it must have been scary shit to go through," she said stepping away from me with a genuine smile. "I'm proud of you Campbell," Katie added to my surprise, "Thank you for keeping Emily alive again, even if she does piss me off a lot." She winked at me as Emily muttered something about the feeling being mutual, the detail muffled by Jenna's tight embrace. With a smirk Katie turned from me and stepped over to her sister, giving her a warm embrace of her own as soon as Jenna finally released her.

I took a second to process her words, I really hadn't thought of it like that; as being something to be scared of. It had actually felt pretty fucking awesome to be doing what I was good at; the fear came later, the fear and the guilt. Fear of failure, and the guilt of letting people down.

With a bustle of family noise they all vanished into the living room, joining Effy in a barrage of words; my ears filled with the sound of tears and raised voices. As I locked down the front door I heard Andy taking orders for drinks; before walking out, leaving the guests and their hostess to their conversations.

"Can I get you anything to drink Sarge?" he called out as he saw me walk down the hallway. "Cup of tea or glass of wine perhaps?"

"Peace and quiet," I said shaking my head at his offer, nodding at Richard as he too walked out into the hallway. "I think I'm going to bed, keep an eye on them would you?"

"As ever Sarge," Andy replied seriously, "sleep well."

"Yeah," I sighed as I headed for my room, "I'll certainly try."

In the end there was too much noise for me to sleep, the family and Effy talking in the living room about what had happened, their voices and the snatched words I caught preventing my mind from finding calm. I'd tried every technique Joanna had taught me for relaxing myself, breathing, imagining, everything; nothing was working, nothing at all. Every time I closed my eyes I was faced with the burnt in image from my continuing nightmares, the image of a dead Emily haunting my waking moments as well as my sleep.

With an annoyed groan I gave in to my disturbance and got out of bed; grabbing my jacket and pulling it on, before slipping my feet into my trainers. I didn't even bother to unlace them in my haste; just stamping down on the heels and wriggling my feet until they were in. Done, I grabbed the rest of my shit from the bottom of the bed where I'd dumped it; keys, money all the usual crap that filled your pockets at all times. My hand hovered over my phone before drawing back, leaving it lying where it was; what I needed was peace and quiet, what I didn't need was to be contactable right now.

Tucking my stuff into my pockets I slipped out of the flat, my passing going completely unnoticed from those in the living room, including to my disgust the three security people that were supposed to be working. I fought the need to bark out my displeasure, treating them like a group of raw recruits on a parade square; I wanted to go in there and read them the riot act, but who was I to do that anymore? What they were doing wasn't dangerous, what they were doing wouldn't get anyone killed.

I eased the key into the night latch and silently closed the door behind me, heading for the lift in a few short steps. Five minutes later I was in the comforting embrace of the plush seats of my truck, finding it in its space exactly as Richard had promised it would be when I handed him the keys days before. Half an hour later I was far away, headlights blazing away as I drove through the night. I didn't have a destination in mind, didn't even know where I was going until the beams from the lights lit up a large granite stone carved with the words 'Chelmsford Cemetery'.

It was locked up for the night, of course it was, but that didn't stop me; I'd climbed over higher and more dangerous things than a couple of fancy gates in my time. I walked along the grave paths until I found myself standing on the neatly trimmed grass in front of the grave of my oldest and dearest friend.

"I did it again Paul," I said quietly, staring at the three words that marked his name. "Fucked up again mate, as per usual; nearly got Emily killed this time, fucking crippled the LT, killed everyone else…"

I poured out my heart in that grim setting, sitting on the damp grass under the cloudy sky. I don't know how long I was there, but at some point it started to rain, a steady summer deluge that soaked me to the skin. I didn't care, it seemed quite fitting and it had the added advantage of washing away the tracks of my unwanted tears as I broke down as I retold my story to the air. The rain had long since stopped when I was startled out of my mental fog by a bright light shining in my face, I looked up to see two torches approaching me and raised my arm to stop being dazzled by the beam.

"Stay where you are," a harsh voice called out, "don't make any movements."

I raised both my hands and placed them behind my head, my fingers intertwined, slowly the torches approached until I could make out the shapes of two police officers walking towards me.

"What are you doing here miss," one of them said, "this is private property."

"I know," I said not moving an inch, "I came to see my friend." I nodded down at Paul's grave, "I've just come back from Baghdad and I needed to talk to him, I wasn't going to cause any trouble."

"You Army or something?" the other copper said, shining his torch over the headstone.

"Ex-Military Police," I told him, "I work as a private security consultant now."

"Bodyguard huh," the first guy said, leaning over and saying something quietly to his colleague who nodded and walked away. "So why are you here?"

"Got the shit shot out of me a couple of days ago," I replied slowly moving my arms and gesturing at the bruising and cut on my face. "Just sort of found myself here. Paul was, well he was my best mate; he was killed in Afghanistan a few years ago."

"Doesn't explain why you are here Miss…"

"Campbell," I replied, "Naomi Campbell. Like I said, I don't know why I'm here really, I was out driving, trying to get my head together that's all…I just ended up here, I guess I had a need to talk to him; does that make sense?"

"A little," he replied, "do you have any identification on you Miss Campbell?"

I passed over my wallet, my business cards tucked away with my credit cards. He stepped away and thumbed through it carefully and I could hear him running an ID check with someone at his station. As we waited his colleague appeared from wherever he'd been hiding and wrapped a silver blanket around my shoulders; probably worried I'd sue them if I got hypothermia or something. We waited in silence before someone somewhere verified that I was a real person and they escorted me out of the cemetery and back to my car.

"Right Miss Campbell," The copper who had first approached me said sternly, "given the circumstances we're not going to take this any further this time, but could I suggest that if you feel the need to visit your friend's grave that you do it at the proper time."

"I will, sorry," I said contritely, "it won't happen again."

"Drive carefully Miss Campbell the other guy said taking the blanket that I held out to him, "and can _I_ suggest you get into some dry clothes, it's not been a great summer so far and we wouldn't want you to catch your death."

I nodded my thanks and climbed into the truck, starting the engine and pulling off as they looked on. A little bit of self-reflection left me feeling like a bit of a prick, breaking into a cemetery to sit in the dark next to a grave; it was so unlike me it's untrue. I don't even like cemeteries, but I'd found it to be oddly calming pouring out my heart to the empty space; almost as calming as I did when I used to go and talk to mum whist I was tidying her plot and leaving fresh flowers.

For someone that didn't believe in all that shit, I seemed to be doing a lot of it; but it had helped me to work things out; perhaps fucking Joanna had been right.

I drove the long way back to Emily's from Chelmsford as dawn began to break; following the M25 in a long circle back to where I started, before turning off and heading into the city and St John's Wood. My clothes were in that uncomfortable stage between wet and dry, my hair still plastered to my skull. I wasn't enjoying my drive back to where I lived, but then again why should I? Why should I enjoy anything at the moment?

Shivering slightly, despite the air-conditioning pumping out hot air, I pulled up in my usual space in Emily's basement garage and sat, engine still running, unable to move. I looked a fucking mess, even my basic attempts at make-up had been ruined by rain and tears; my face streaked and blotchy. Fortunately I didn't see anyone on my way back to the flat, my embarrassment hidden from view. I didn't see anyone as I entered the flat either; no-one to accost me as I opened the door, Andy fast asleep on the sofa. I shook my head and padded down the hallway to my room, opening and closing the door as silently as I could.

I was cold, very cold and as I stripped my damp and smelly clothes from my body, ripping off the soaked dressing for good measure; wincing as the tape tore from my skin. I grabbed my sweats from the back of a chair where I had left them and pulled them on, slipping under the covers; and, feeling comfortable for the first time in hours, fell into another restless sleep.

o+o+o

I woke from another nightmare with a half stifled scream, Emily's accusing voice haunting me once more; her charnel-house breath lingering in my nostrils as I panted my way back to consciousness. I flopped back onto the pillows feeling physically sick as I did so, swallowing back a throat-full of stomach bile that had been threatening to escape. As I lay there, trying to calm my breathing, a pair of intense eyes stared down at me, a question behind them.

"Don't," I muttered closing my eyes to avoid the gaze, I hadn't realised anyone was in the room when I'd climbed into bed; let alone noticed that someone else was sharing my bed.

Don't what?"

"Just don't," I told her putting my arm across my eyes to hide from the stare that I could now feel through my closed eyes. "Just leave me alone."

"Not a chance; where the fuck did you go last night Naomi, and why didn't tell anyone you were going, or at least take your phone?"

"I went out," I said, trying to compose myself, "I needed some time alone."

"You scared the shit out of everyone, you do know that don't you?"

I snorted at that, "no-one even noticed me leave Eff, so don't give me that shit."

"Doesn't mean that you didn't scare people Naomi," Effy said, her voice telling me she was more than a little annoyed, "Emily was fucking frantic when she realised you'd snuck out."

"I didn't _sneak_ out," I said coldly. "I couldn't sleep; everyone was talking keeping me awake so I decided to go for a drive…what's the big fucking deal? Andy was here to make sure Emily was secure."

"Not the point Naomi," Effy continued her voice starting to grate on my tired brain, "and what are you doing in here, why aren't you in your own room?"

"This _is_ my room," I said closing my eyes again, "look pictures on the walls, clothes in the drawers and everything. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to get some fucking sleep."

I heard Effy sigh, the bed shifting as she climbed out. I heard a rustling of clothes as she got dressed, pulling the duvet over my head to drown her out; seconds later it was dragged from my body and I sat up with a glare, grasping the edge tightly, yanking it out of Effy's grasp.

"You need to sort this shit out Naomi," Effy said glaring at me accusingly. "Emily told me all about what's been happening between you since the attack; she say's you've been really distant, that you've not been sleeping or if you have you've been crashing out anywhere but with her. What the fuck is wrong with you?"

"Nothings wrong with me," I lied, wrapping the duvet around myself protectively; "and if there was, it's got fuck all to do with you. Now if you don't mind…"

I gestured towards the door, eyes stoney; matching her glare ice shard for ice shard. Eventually Effy blinked and turned away, shaking her head as she went. She paused by the door for a second as I tossed the duvet back out over my feet, "Look Naomi, I can guess how tough it was for you, for you both; Emily told me all about what happened last night. She's struggling with it as much as you are; please stop pushing her away, it's not helping either of you."

I didn't answer her, I had nothing to say. Pushing Emily away _was_ helping; it was helping keep her alive. I couldn't be responsible for her death, I just couldn't. As I pulled the duvet over my head I heard her close the door behind her, and for the second time in twenty four hours I let my tears flow, and cried myself to sleep.

.

.

.

**A/N** So anyway, there you go, another '5' chapter and the start of the homeward stretch; buckle up people, this might be a bumpy ride d-:


	66. The Hardest Decision of My Life

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness and a really, really heavy case of writers block!

I still nothing to do with Skins, (but then do we care about Skins any more?).

**Authors Note: **OK I know it's been ages, and I'm sorry…my excuse is I've been really busy, I'm having real problems writing right now, (total head mash) and I decided to start writing the next chapter of 'Let Me Show You…' which has proven more difficult than I thought, (pressure!)

So, there you go, I am still around and I will finish all this stuff…in fact CP is on the downward roll now, the end is in sight and I can't wait to share it all with you.

So here you go, chapter 66 – finally!

**Chapter 66 – The Hardest Decision of My Life**

I woke with a start from a nightmare about Baghdad, the sound of bullets and screams still ringing in my ears. As I opened my eyes I saw Emily leaning over me, her eyes looking hurt.

"Hey," she said, her hand still caught up in my hair, "sleep well?"

"Not really," I replied rubbing my eyes with my forearm, causing Emily to pull back her hand.

"Where did you go last night baby?" She asked softly and I internally winced at the pain in her voice. "I was worried about you."

"Couldn't sleep," I replied, "so I went out for a drive."

"Where did you go?" she pressed, ever so slightly beginning to piss me off.

"I just drove around," I said, trying to avoid answering the question.

"All night?" Emily continued, pressing the interrogation

"All night Emily; Jesus fucking Christ I drove around all night, then I came back ok? What more do you fucking want from me?"

I let my tiredness, my frustration, and my need for her to back the fuck off leak out into my voice for the first time in our relationship; watching her recoil as I did so. I felt a thin sliver of guilt creep into my heart, but I ignored it; knowing I was acting for the greater good. It hurt me to see her in pain like that, of course it did, but she needed to let me go…I knew that now. Ever since she met me I had brought her danger, right back to that very first day when we were barely on speaking terms.

"Hey," she replied softly, composing herself swiftly, "I wasn't having a go; I was worried that's all."

"No need," I replied dryly, "I _can_ look after myself you know?"

"I'm not sure you can Naomi," she said finally biting back, squaring her shoulders at me as she sat back, her hackles obviously rising. "In fact, I think it's quite the opposite; I think you need to talk to someone about all of this…"

"Oh you do, do you?" I snapped, "Made me an appointment with Joanna already have you?"

"No," she snapped back, standing up, "but perhaps I should, it sounds like you need it!"

"Oh really, some kind of a fucking expert are you?" I shouted, wishing she'd just fuck off and leave me alone.

"Actually I am," she shouted angrily, "remember? We need fucking help Naomi, you _and_ me, we've been through something awful and we need someone to help us get through it, because fuck knows were doing a shitty job of it ourselves."

"Something _awful_?" I sneered back at her, "that wasn't awful; you want to know what's awful _hun_? Watching your best mate die in front of you is _awful_, tasting his fucking blood on your lips as he dies, that's _awful_; spending month after month under attack is _awful_, watching your friends, the people you've spent your life with die for no fucking reason…that's fucking _awful_ hun. Worst of all? Sitting next to a hospital bed watching your mother die…that's _more_ than fucking awful. Getting the fuck away from an ambush unharmed? That's fucking nothing; that's like a holiday for me."

"I wouldn't call what happened to JJ being unharmed Nomi," she retorted, Ignoring my jibes and hitting a very raw nerve, rendering me speechless for a second. I watched her take a deep breath, closing her eyes and composing herself carefully.

"I don't want to fight with you Naomi," she said in her best soothing voice. "I was worried about you that's all; you scared the shit out of me last night when you left without saying goodbye."

"You don't need to be worried about me Emily," I told her again, "I don't need _anyone_ to be worried about me."

"I think I'm _allowed_ to be worried about you," she replied coolly, reaching out to touch my leg none the less. "I _love_ you, remember?"

"I remember," I said, holding onto my resolve with both hands, gripping it tightly.

"Yeah well," she replied leaning forward and kissing me on the forehead, "don't forget it ok? We'll get through this Naomi; we'll get through this shit, and we'll do it together."

I watched her as she walked out of my room head held high; she wasn't fooling me though, I knew I'd hurt her by leaving, and I knew I was hurting her now. But she was better off hurting and safe, than put at risk…I was even more convinced of that now.

o+o+o

There was a familiar presence sitting on my bed when I returned from my shower, my bathrobe wrapped tightly around me. I couldn't help but let out a sigh as Effy held out a cup to me.

"I thought a nice cup of tea might help, and a bit of privacy," she added gesturing at the door.

"Help what?" I asked, closing the door with my foot and rubbing at my hair with my towel, ignoring the cup.

"I don't know Naomi," Effy replied unfazed by my actions, putting the cup down on the floor. "Why don't you sit down and tell me what the hell is going on in your head; and this time no bullshit."

"I'd rather get dressed thank you very much," I told her, "in private…that means once you've fucked off somewhere else," I added at her raised eyebrow.

"Well that's not going to happen is it?" she said, sitting back and sipping at her own cup, the familiar smell of Emily's favourite tea not escaping my attention. "I'm not going anywhere Naomi, not until you tell me what's going on."

"There's nothing going on," I snapped, dropping my towel to the floor and picking up my clothes from where I had left them on the bed; getting dressed and ignoring the fact that Effy was with me completely. My intention had been to shock her, perhaps embarrass her into walking away, it hadn't worked.

"Nice tattoo," she said, totally unfazed by my nudity, "that must have hurt a bit."

"Hurt less than the scars I've got," I replied, pulling a hoodie over my head, covering my dragons as quickly as I could.

"I would imagine so yes," Eff continued as I pulled on my jeans and buttoned them closed. "So then, are you going to tell me why you're being a bitch to Emily all of a sudden?"

"It's none of your business what's going on between Emily and me," I said snidely as I tugged my boots over my socks and laced them tightly. "So I would appreciate it if you would butt the fuck out and leave us alone."

"Not a chance," Effy replied coolly, not reacting to my antagonism in any obvious way. "You're both my friends Naomi and I, for one, don't abandon my friends when they need me."

"Are you saying I do?" I snapped, turning on her with angry eyes.

"You tell me," she snapped back, before letting out a breath, "look Naomi, I'm trying to help here ok? I've been trying to help you ever since you got back."

"I don't want your 'help'," I said holding her look unflinchingly; "I don't need it either."

It was an honest answer as well, I didn't want or need her help, I'd made my own arrangements the night before, my confirmation e-mail arriving moments after I'd sent it, much to my surprise.

"That's why I'm sitting here," Effy continued, "James called me while you were in the shower; said you've asked him for a few days off."

"That's right," I replied simply, heading for the wardrobe and hunting through it for my favourite and only jacket, lifting it off the hanger I had placed it on before we'd left on that fateful trip.

"Have you told Emily you're going away?" Effy asked quietly.

"What makes you think she doesn't already know?"

"Oh I don't know, the fact that she hasn't mentioned it…the fact that she's really upset that you're shoving her away and the fact that she's worried about you."

"She said…I told her she didn't need to."

"Well she is Naomi, and you know she will carry on worrying about you until you sort your shit out."

"That's what I'm trying to do," I said finally, sitting down on the bed once again. "I can't do it here though; I can't do it when she's around."

"Why not?" Effy pressed, "Why won't you let Emily help you?"

"Because it won't work, I need to get away and get my head straight, I can't switch off while I'm around her, and I can't work out what's going on in my head without switching off."

"Is that why you left last night?" she asked, the questioning relentless, "to try and work things out?"

I nodded, hoping that she'd finally got it; we sat there in silence for a while, before Effy finally got to her feet and walked to the door.

"Tell her what you're doing this time," she said simply as she opened the door, "don't just take off without saying anything; ok? It's not fair on her."

I looked up at her as she waited in the doorway for me to reply. I knew that she was right, but I wasn't looking forward to that conversation; Campbell the coward was making an appearance again and I wanted to do nothing more than grab my coat and my bag and run for the hills. I couldn't do it though; Effy was right, it really wouldn't be fair on Emily, not fair at all. Somehow Effy must have seen my conflict and made the first move.

"EMILY!" Effy called out with a slight smile on her lips, a smug smile that told me that she knew she had me beaten. "Naomi needs you!"

"What's wrong," Emily said appearing out of her bedroom, eyes red raw from crying. "What's the matter with…" her voice tailed off as she saw us together.

"Naomi's got something to discuss with you mate," Effy said walking towards Emily and placing her hand on her shoulder as they passed in the hallway, patting her gently before leaving us alone. I stared into her pain filled eyes and took a firm grip on my heart. I loved her like I had loved only one other person in my fucking life and now I was going to have to do something I really didn't want to; I was going to have to tell her the truth.

"What's going on Naomi?" Emily said walking into my room and standing at the foot of the bed, "What did Effy mean by that?"

"Sit down Emily," I said, knowing her heart would be aching at my words; she wasn't stupid, and I could tell how upset she was right then. "I'm going to have to go away for a few days."

I practically spat the words out of my mouth, as if hoping that the faster I said it the easier it would be on both of us. It didn't work though; I could see the words hit her like a gunshot.

"What?" she stammered out as her tears began to fall again, "what do you mean?"

"I need to get away for a few days," I repeated, feeling sick to my stomach, "be by myself."

"Be by yourself? What the fuck does that mean?"

"It means I need to be on my own for a bit Emily," I said the bile rising in my throat, "I need some time by myself, to help me get my head straight about all this."

"All this what Naomi?" Emily sobbed, her tears flowing freely now, "do you mean us, is that what you mean?"

"Us, what happened in Baghdad, this job, everything," I said softly, wanting to hug her and knowing that it wouldn't be the right thing to do, for either of us. "I need to do some thinking Emily, and I can't do that here. I've arranged for Andy to take over from me for a few days so you don't have to worry about your security…"

"You're fucking kidding right? You're really going to just take off, now? After all we've been through?"

"It's only for a few days Emily," I repeated. "I just need some time by myself, that's all, don't turn this into something more than it is."

"Then explain it to me love, talk to me. You've not talked to me since we were attacked; not properly anyway," she added before I could legitimately deny it. She was right of course, we had _spoken_, but we hadn't _talked_ at all. I'd withdrawn into the firebase, rolled out the defences, and piled up the sandbags; but this time I'd made sure that Emily was firmly on the other side of the wire.

"I can't," I said finally, "it's not something I can really explain."

"Try," she replied, wiping her eyes with her shirt, "please. Just tell me why you want to go away."

"Because Emily," I sighed slumping on the bed; "just because…I can't get myself together while I'm with you because I can't stop doing my job; I can't switch off and focus on me, and if I can't switch off I can't sort out what's going on in my head…does that make sense?"

"Not really," she replied looking at me sadly, "but if that's what you think you need…"

"It is," I interrupted, "it really is. I'm sorry but I need some time alone right now."

There was a long silence, a silence that was filled with tension, and awkwardness, and pain before finally, Emily broke it.

"Ok babe, but please tell me you'll at least get in touch with Joanna while you're away," she said sadly. "I know you're having bad dreams again…and don't deny it Nomi, I've heard you crying out in your sleep, no matter how far away I am."

She sort of had me there, I couldn't deny it, and I could deny her either. She was trying to be brave, I could hear the steel she was injecting into that hurt voice of hers, and I couldn't let her down.

"I will, I promise," I said, guilt flowing through me like a raging river. I needed to get out of here before I did or said something I'd regret. "I'll call her as soon as I get a minute ok?"

h

"No, not really Nomi, but I guess it'll have to do." Emily said with finality in her voice. "Will you at least say goodbye before you leave?"

"Course I will," I replied looking at her as she got up. It nearly broke my heart to see her so upset and trying to avoid it I flopped backwards onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling rather than look at the broken girl in front of me.

'_It's for the best,'_ I told myself over and over again, counting the hairline cracks and chips in the plaster of the ceiling above me. _'It's all for the fucking best.'_

I closed my eyes and started counting, trying to obliterate the thoughts that were torturing me right there and then. As I reached forty-five I felt the bed dip next to me and an arm drape itself over my stomach as Emily snuggled in against me. I took a tight hold of my feelings and gave them a hard fucking shake; no matter how good it felt to have her lying next to me again, I still needed to make the break.

"Emily…" I started, before being shushed with a finger that pressed to my lips.

"Don't say anything Nomi," she whispered softly, "please…I've fucking missed you, and I'm going to miss you a lot more when you're not even around for me to see. Just let me have this last moment with you…before you leave me."

I felt my chest tighten at her words; it was as if she knew that this wasn't going to be a short term thing, that it might be more than I was letting on. We lay there in silence, our breathing the only thing to disturb the moment. Out in the flat I could hear the dull murmur of the television, and the sound of voices as Effy chatted with Andy in the living room. From outside I could hear the noise of London's traffic and the occasional sound of sirens; eventually though the sound was drowned out by the sound of my beating heart, pounding away in my chest like a kettle drum, hammering out the beat to march to. It felt so fucking right to be here like this, but it was that sense of rightness that was concerning me. It had felt right with Paul, with mum, this was exactly the same feeling that was the crow at the window, the black shuck, the harbinger of doom.

I don't know how long we lay there together, but it seemed like an instant and eternity at the same time. I was wondering how I could get her to move, and wondering if I actually wanted her to go, when I felt her shift next to me; her soft lips pressed gently against mine, moving gently against my unresisting own. There was no passion in the kiss, not the passion of the last few weeks anyway; instead there was a blissful tenderness, a tenderness that made my head, and my heart hurt at the same time. All too soon she broke away, leaning above me as my eyes open, staring down at me.

"I'll miss you," she said simply, blinking back tears, "Remember your promise yeah? Say goodbye before you go."

o+o+o

I lay on the bed for a long time after Emily left, counting cracks and counting heartbeats; eventually though I knew I had to sort out my shit and get moving. The day was drawing inexorably onwards and I had a long way to go and a lot of things to do before I could call it a night. With a long sigh I dragged myself to my feet and collected my things, my bag already packed. I paused in front of my picture, the one I'd hung on the wall in pride of place; with a frown I lifted it from the hook and laid it down on the bed, wrapping it in a T-shirt carefully. I unzipped my travelling bag and tucked the picture inside; making sure it was safe before zipping it closed for the last time. Grabbing it by the straps I threw it over my shoulder, picked up my jacket and walked out into the dark hallway.

"A word," I said as I peered around the living room door, seeing Effy sat with her arm around Emily's shoulders.

"Sure," Andy said getting up from the sofa; I waited for him to pass me into the hallway before pulling the door to behind me.

"I guess you know I'm going away for a bit," I began, "a few days, a week or so at the most."

"So I understand," he said stiffly, presumably annoyed with me too. I couldn't blame him; not if he'd had to deal with the emotional fall out in the living room

"Yeah, well don't be so quick to judge me Andy," I said with a sudden need to explain myself to a fellow professional, a fellow professional I actually respected. "I just need some time away from her after Iraq ok? I can't stop worrying about fucking up and getting her hurt or worse; and until I sort that out I'm worse than no fucking use to her, you understand?"

"I understand," Andy said, his eyes softening fractionally.

"Anyway, she means a fucking lot to me Andy, and I'm relying on you to keep her safe; so you take fucking good care of her or you will answer to me."

"I'll take care of her like you would Sarge," he said nodding. "You can rely on me; I've known her for a while too you know?"

"Just keep her safe then, those fuckers are still out there never forget that; don't drop your guard for a second."

"I won't," he said seriously.

"Good, now do me a favour, fuck off so I can say goodbye to Emily."

"Will do boss," Andy said holding out his hand, "you take care of yourself Sarge, see you soon."

"Will do," I replied grasping his hand tightly and shaking it warmly, "when you go in would you ask her to…"

"No need," I heard her soft voice say, "I'm here."

"I'll bugger off then," Andy said with a wink, "give you both some privacy."

"Thanks Andy," Emily said, her eyes not leaving mine while we waited for him to walk away and close the door behind him. "So you're really going then?"

"Just for a bit," I said quietly.

"Will you be all right?" she asked, and for the first time I could feel the awkwardness between us for the first time in what felt like a very long time; it was as if neither of us knew how to behave around each other, which was odd given how intimate we'd been earlier

"I'll be fine," I said, not at all sure if that would be the case.

"Nomi I don't like this," Emily said after a short pause, "I mean I understand that you need to go away for a bit, but I really don't like it."

"I know Emily," I said looking at the floor, "it's just something I have to do…I need some time by myself."

"I know that," she said taking a tentative step towards me, "but I don't have to like it; I don't like what it could mean."

"I know, but don't worry."

"Do I at least get a hug?" Emily asked, injecting that steel I so admired into her voice.

"Of course," I said opening my arms and nearly getting slammed against the wall as the little ball of passion slammed into me, the steel breaking under the strain and the floodgates opening. I wrapped my arms around her, holding onto her almost as tightly as she was holding me.

"Promise you'll call me?" she said as she burrowed her head into my shoulder, "and Joanna?"

"If I get chance I will," I said, promising without really promising anything at all.

"Where are you going to go Nomi?"

"I don't really have a plan Emily," I replied, kissing the top of her head, allowing myself that one last luxury before I closed the camp gates and locked down for the night. "I might go home, might go away; I think I will go and visit my mum though, other than that I don't really know."

She didn't reply, she just held me tighter, practically squeezing the life out of me. "I really need to get going," I said awkwardly, wondering if she would ever let go; to my relief she did, and stepped backwards as if I'd connected her to the mains electricity supply.

"So this is really goodbye?" Emily asked a tear rolling down her cheek.

"For now," I told her, hoping to ease the pain that was etched on her face. "Goodbye Emily."

"Goodbye for now Nomi…"

"Oh for fucks sake kiss your girl goodbye and bugger off if you're going to Campbell," a familiar voice sang out from the kitchen. We both turned to see Effy standing there with an unlit cigarette lodged in her fingers. "That way I can go downstairs with you and smoke this."

"I thought you'd quit," I said accusingly.

"I have," she replied smoothly, "and stop changing the subject. I'm going to finish making this pot of tea and by the time I get back I expect you to have kissed, made up and said your goodbyes properly."

With a flourish she spun on her heels and walked back into the kitchen, humming loudly and banging closed doors.

"I think she's letting us know she can't hear us," Emily said with a small smile on her lips as she turned back to me.

"I wouldn't trust her," I said smiling back, amused by her antics; "you and I both know she's listening in right now."

"Then we'd better do as she says then," she replied stepping forward, her hands cupping my face. "Don't want you to get another bollocking from her ladyship in there."

"I heard that," Effy called out, "less talking more kissing you two."

"Yes Ma'am," Ems murmured pulling me towards her and into our second kiss of the day, the most we'd done it since the night before the attack. This time it was no tender tapping of the lips; it was full on, and Emily was putting everything into it that she had, as if she suspected that it would be our last. Finally though, we broke apart; Emily holding my head against hers, our lips barely millimetres apart, foreheads touching.

"Goodbye Nomi," she murmured, her lips flicking me as she spoke, "I meant it you know, I'll really miss you."

"It's only for a few days Ems," I said, my resolve starting to show cracks.

"I know that," she replied, not letting go, "but right now I'm a bit of a mess too, and I really wanted you with me while I got through it. I guess I know now why you were so far away all the time, I never realised that you'd be in pain too, you're so fucking brave I don't think I ever thought about it."

"I'm sorry," I said, my heart breaking at her words. I suddenly felt like a total bitch, I'd been so caught up in my own shit I'd really not stopped to think about how she was feeling, and how I might be affecting her at the same time. "I never…."

"Shhh," she whispered, her thumb slipping from my chin and pushing my lips closed. "I understand."

She kissed me once more, one more attack on my defensive lines. Hastily, and reluctantly, I pulled myself together and when we broke apart again, I pulled away, only to get a round of applause from Eff.

"That's more like it," she said. "I'll put this pot down then, I made your favourite Emily."

"Thanks," she said without taking her eyes off me, drinking me in completely as I did the same. "I'll see you soon then."

"Yeah," I said sadly, "you will."

Was I lying? Even I wasn't sure; I got a nod and then Emily was gone, turning and vanishing into the living room as if I'd slapped her face. For the second time I grabbed my bag and my jacket and, with a tinge of regret, I walked out into the corridor.

"Ready?" Effy said as she closed the front door behind her.

"For what?" I asked puzzled as she walked over to the lift, and stabbed at the buttons; her finger flexing as she repeatedly prodded at it before turning on me angrily.

"For the fucking bollocking I'm going to give you Naomi Moonbeam Easter Campbell…"

"It's Easter Moonbeam actually," I interrupted as I watched the number on the counter creep towards our floor.

"I don't give a shit actually," Effy said coldly as the doors opened in front of us. I was waiting for the doors to close when I heard a noise outside, a loud bang as a door hit a wall. Within seconds I found lips on mine once more as Emily threw herself through the still open doors, kissing me passionately and quickly. When she finally let me go she spoke through her tears.

"I fucking love you Naomi," she sobbed, "It is breaking my heart right now to see you go, but I'll let you go because I _really_ fucking love you."

"I know Ems," I told her, "I know you do and …"

"…and, well, keep that in your heart ok?" she interrupted quickly, placing her hand onto my chest, covering my rapidly beating organ. "Keep it right there that wherever the hell you are over the next few days there is someone in this world that fucking loves you. I may not be the same as your mum, or Whitey, but I love you as much or more as all of them. I love you Naomi Campbell, I love you so much I can actually let you leave, no matter how much it hurts."

"I love you too," I told her softly, saying the words that had eluded me for days now, my defences finally breached. "I'm sorry that this is hurting you, but it's the best thing for me, for us, for you even. You know we won't work with me going on the way I am right now."

"I know, I understand" she told me, even though I knew that she didn't mean it. How could she, even I didn't understand how I felt, I knew I just did. With a sniff she stepped backwards and out of the lift. "You can let the doors close now," she said to Effy, her tear filled brown eyes not leaving mine. "I love you Nomi."

"I know," I said softly as the doors closed; the physical barrier between us finally in place. I don't know if she heard me, but it didn't matter; the deed was done and I don't think I could feel any worse about what I had just done. I was proven wrong as I turned to see the brunette staring at me, her eyes stony.

"_That's_ why you're going to get a fucking bollocking Campbell; that's fucking why."

o+o+o

"That was cruel Campbell," Effy started when the lift opened in the underground car park and she tossed her cigarette away.

"Maybe, but it was necessary," I told her, turning away and walking towards the Beemer, parked in its usual space.

"Don't you walk away from me," Effy said sounding really annoyed. With a sudden jerk she grabbed my arm and spun me around. "I am so mad at you Naomi I can't fucking tell you. How could you do that to Emily? You _do_ know she's convinced that you're not coming back don't you?"

"I've not told her that," I blurted out, before I realised what I was saying. Effy scowled at me and desperately I tried to backtrack. "What I mean is, I've told her it will be a few days, that's all I've said…if she thinks it's something else, it's not come from me."

"She's right though isn't she?" Effy asked, though it was more of a statement than a question.

"I don't know Eff," I said sighing. "Right now I honestly don't know. I want to be with her, but I don't want to be responsible for her getting killed. I'm making mistakes Eff; I'm too fucking close to her."

"You bloody coward," she said scornfully keeping up the pressure on my ego. "That's just an excuse and you know it; I thought you were the big brave badass ex-Sergeant, tough as nails and not afraid of anything. I couldn't have been more wrong could I?"

"It's not like that, I'm trying to protect her," I defended myself, knowing that she was, of course, right.

"How? Just fucking explain yourself Naomi," Effy said angrily. "Stop being so fucking evasive and tell me what the fuck is really going on; because I'm the one that has to go back upstairs and deal with the mess you've left in that flat and I need to know, and you are _not_ leaving until you talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about, I'm not making excuses Eff, I'm being honest; I'm too close, I'm making mistakes, and I need to get some space so I can pull myself together. I explained all this to her earlier."

"I heard," Effy said stonily, "but it still doesn't explain things though Naomi, you two have been fucking about for ages and then you finally get your shit together, and now you're running away."

"I'm not running away, I'm going away to keep her safe…"

"…because you're making mistakes; so you said," Effy said staring at me unblinkingly. "I don't see why you would think that though. Emily's safe; fucking hell you've saved her life single handedly…twice…and until recently you've both been really happy. Christ most of the time the two of you are fucking inseparable; her mother thinks the sun shines out of your arse, even Katie has come round to the two of you being together for fucks sake."

"Tell that to JJ," I said quietly.

"What the hell has Jeremiah got to do with you and Emily?" Effy pressed, shaking her head at me. I leant back against the cold concrete wall of the garage and allowed myself to slide down it to the cold floor; the rough surface scratching as I did so.

I stared at the bright halogen lights that dotted the ceiling for a while, blinking and 'looking' at the blocks of light that had burnt into my retinas until they faded. It was something I'd done in the desert too; staring into the bright light of the sun, and closing my eyes until it had faded away. I'd not done it since I was on the streets, staring at the bright lights that surrounded the M4 from the comfort of my cardboard castle. It surprised me that I found myself doing it once more and I stared at the back of my car, focusing on the number plate to stop me doing it again. To my surprise, when I tore my eyes away, I found Effy sitting on the cold concrete next to me.

"So are you going to explain that JJ comment Naomi?" she said, sounding resigned rather than angry.

"I fucked up Eff, before the ambush," I started, feeling sick again. "I was messing about with Emily in the back of our jeep, not paying attention. I missed the guys on the rooftop that blew up his vehicle, if I'd seen them we could have avoided the attack, but instead I was making out with her. It was stupid Eff, criminally stupid and JJ paid the price."

"So you blame yourself?"

"No-one else to blame," I said sadly. "I was in the rear vehicle; I should have been paying attention. It's my fault that we got ambushed, it's my fault JJ got injured, it's my fault that people died, and it's my fault that I nearly got Emily killed. I can't cope with that Eff, not again…I've lost too many people I love; I can't lose Emily."

"So you'll kill her emotionally to keep her alive?"

"Better that than put her in a box Eff."

"So are you going to stop being with her, or stop protecting her?" she asked, once again cutting to the heart of the matter without any bullshit.

"I'm not sure it's as simple as one or the other Eff; I'm not sure I _can_ do one or the other."

"You're fucked up you know that?" she said, nudging me with her shoulder. "You need to sort this shit out."

"That's what I'm trying to do Effy, you're the one that's stopping me right now."

"Yeah, but you needed your priorities rearranging," Effy said finally standing and dusting herself down. "She loves you Naomi, she loves you with everything she has; and she's done so from the moment she saw you. Most people go their whole lives without finding that so don't fuck it up for something that doesn't exist outside your head."

"What if it's not Eff?" I snapped, sick and tied of her constant interference. "Do you want to risk it? 'cause I fucking don't; I love her too much for that."

"Then remember that while you're away on your little voyage of discovery, you love her, she loves you. Life shouldn't be any more complicated than that."

She left me sitting on the floor, the cold leeching through my jeans and chilling my arse. As the silence of the garage enveloped me I heard the dull thud of the doors of the lift opening, and the slight chime as the lone occupant was warned that the doors were about to close on her.

"Don't leave it too long Naomi," I heard Effy say and I looked up to see her with her hand on the console, holding open the doors for the second time that day. "Don't hurt her any more than you already have."

I stared into her eyes as the doors finally closed, watching the numbers count up on the display until they reached Emily's floor and stopped. I knew Effy would be getting out and walking along the corridor, knocking on that dark door and waiting for Andy to open it. In my mind I had an image of Emily standing in the hallway, staring expectantly as she walked in, hoping against hope that I was walking in with her. I could picture her face falling as the door closed, could see the tears falling as if I was watching it directly. Perhaps it was wishful thinking, perhaps I was just my imagination, but I could almost feel Emily's hurt because I was feeling it myself; hurting as badly right nowas I had when I had lost my mum. I even managed to add a little bit of guilt to the mix as I realised that I was hurting almost as much right now as I had when my best friend died, practically in my arms.

Can you imagine that? I was hurting because I was running away from a woman I'd only known for a few short blissful, terrible months; and I was comparing it to the deaths of my best mate and my mum. How fucked up was I right now?

Feeling sick I got to my feet and grabbed my bag, rushing over to the beemer and shoving it into the boot. Hurriedly I climbed into the driving seat and started the engine. With a screech of tyres I pulled out of the space and accelerate towards the exit, the barrier lifting and letting me out onto the streets of St Johns Wood. Half an hour later I was far from the flat, far from my new life and I felt the pain in my chest become too much to bear; I pulled to the side of the road and flung open the door, spilling my guts into the gutter like a dunk on a Saturday night.

Effy was right, I was a pathetic fucking coward; and there wasn't a damned thing I could do about it.

Nothing but run.

.

.

.

**A/N** I know, I'm sorry….you wait for weeks and I give you this. Don't hate me everything is necessary; everything is part of the plan.


	67. Clusterfuck

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness and a really, really heavy case of writers block!

I still nothing to do with Skins, (but then do we care about Skins any more?).

**Authors Note: **I'm back…sorry had a lot going on including a rather involved interview process for a job I _really_ want, (and apparently did rather well at (-: ). Anyway there was far too much going on in my head to get into anything resembling writing mode. Still not happy with this particular episode, but I can't say why and as Stunty tells me it's fine here it is, chapter 67 finally…sorry….enjoy.

**Chapter 67 – Clusterfuck**

I woke from yet another nightmare, my sheets soaked with sweat. I don't know if I'd been calling out again, but my throat felt sore and I reached for the glass at the side of the bed and downed its contents in one; grimacing as I did so. The taste of warm tap water is not one of my favourites; warm water reminded me of places I didn't want to think about, warm water reminded me of a previous life.

Blinking, I switched on the light and looked at my watch, the hands telling me what I had already suspected; it was already late, and I needed to get my shit together.

I'd driven for hours after leaving the flat that night, aimlessly circling the city wondering where on earth I was going to go. I'd practically circled the M25 before making a decision, driving the familiar route of the M4 out towards the west. I couldn't keep going though and I pulled off the motorway at a convenient service area and checked into the motel. It wasn't until I went in search of some food that I realised where I was, back practically where it had all began, Leigh-Delamere services, this time on the other side of the carriageway. I'd paid through the nose for a cheeseburger and fries before I realised that I wasn't really tasting it at all, merely eating to satisfy a purely psychological, or more likely a biological, need. Judging by the texture it wasn't a bad thing that I couldn't taste it; it was as dry as it could possibly be, as if it had sat on the warming plates for a few hours longer than it should have. The fries were over salted and cold as well; all in all it was most unsatisfying fare.

I was back in my room before I realised that I didn't have anything to drink, nothing but the little sachets of tea and coffee that sat sadly on the side, unwanted and unloved. I contemplated getting dressed again and going back to the shops, but tiredness took a hold of me and I simply lay back in the bath I'd run for myself and allowed myself time to think before turning in for another restless night.

With the morning came the realisation of what I had done; the dull ache in the heart that wouldn't go away. I knew from my past that I needed to keep busy, bury myself in something that would keep my brain occupied. When mum died I'd thrown myself into my training utterly and completely, beating everyone in my unit through sheer hard work and determination. When Paul had been killed I'd had nothing, nothing but Amy and a Christmas of non-stop fighting and shagging to hide from the pain of losing him, and losing Gill. This time I had neither; work and sex were tied up in one person, one person that I couldn't allow myself to think about.

I showered and got dressed with a marked lack of enthusiasm, all I really wanted to do was go back to bed, cover my head with the pillows and sleep away the day. I couldn't do it though, check out was in an hour, and I'd only booked the one night; besides, who wants to spend their days in a shitty Travelodge at a shitty services just off the westbound M4? Not me, that's for certain; what I needed to be doing was moving on, and I flung my dirty clothes into my bag in preparation for just that.

It was only as I was preparing to leave that I picked up my phone, forgetting to use it as an alarm causing me to forget it was there at all. As I flicked the switch on the side to turn off the mute function I flicked at the screen lock and checked my messages. I had three e-mails from the office, one from Cook; and four text messages, three of them from Emily. I stared at the screen as I read her simple 'good night' message from hours before, a plaintive sounding 'I miss you' message sent at about three o'clock this morning and one sent only minutes earlier that wished me a 'good morning' and that I have a 'good day'. It was nice to know she was still thinking of me in one way, but on the other hand I hated to see her messages. I wanted to reply to them, I really did; but in the end my head led my heart and with a swipe and a stab I'd deleted them all.

I just wished that my feelings were as easy to get rid of as her messages were; still it had only been one day.

Apart from them, the only message of note was the one from Cook, letting us know that JJ had made a pretty good recovery considering his injuries, and that they were flying him home to a private hospital in the next couple of days. It was a small glimmer of sunshine in what was already a pretty dark day, but it was enough to lift my spirits as I checked out and climbed into the car. Music blaring I ignored the seductive offers of breakfasts in the services, and drove out onto the M4 and continued my journey.

o+o+o

The sun was shining brightly as I drove, moving around in my windows as the road snaked its way through the countryside. I'd changed my original plan almost the moment I'd left the hotel, seeing a name on the sat nav's colourful map of the surroundings that I'd wanted to visit. Thinking that now was as good a time as any, I pulled off at the next exit and took a scenic route that the 'bird in the box Mk2' was screaming for me to change. I ignored the electronic protestations, for once it was nice to be driving off the motorway; nice to see some English countryside rather than endless black tarmac. I passed through tiny villages, not much more than a handful of houses; and with my stomach grumbling I looked longingly at out of the way pubs advertising food on large black boards, the coloured pens they all seemed to use looking like neon lights in the summer sun.

I had doubled back on myself completely, driving back towards Swindon and the tiny town that lay outside it, a tiny little town that meant an awful lot to the troops that had served in Afghanistan, a town that had done us all proud. I wanted to visit Wootton Bassett, wanted to see the place that had welcomed Whitey home when we couldn't; the place that had offered my friend a small fraction of what he deserved.

It wasn't a difficult place to find, even without the 'sat nag' I simply followed the directions, and the signposts, until I was pulling into a busy car park; civvies and their families bustling by doing their shopping in the sunshine, happily going about their lives. I grabbed my coat and shoulder bag and climbed out of the car, feeling the heat on my face as I left the air conditioned bubble; I didn't know where to go or what to do now I was here, but I knew one thing…I needed to find something to eat.

Stomach rumbling I walked along the high street looking for a likely spot; ending up in a small café that overlooked the busy road. Uncharacteristically I let my nose rule my head and I ordered a delicious smelling fry up to go with my morning coffee; and retired to one of the benches, cup in hand, waiting for my food, and watching the world go by. I sipped at the warm liquid in silence, totally lost in my thoughts when I voice from behind me jerked me back to reality.

"Are you here for a repatriation?"

I looked around to see the woman that had served me leaning on the counter and looking at me seriously. I realised that we were the only people in the café and that she must have been talking to me.

"I'm sorry?" I asked her as my head tried to remember what she had said.

"That's ok," she said smiling warmly, "I was just wondering if you'd come here for a repatriation."

"Oh," I replied shaking my head, "sorry no…no I'm not."

"More coffee?" she asked walking over with a glass pot she'd plucked off the hotplate.

"Please," I replied holding out my half empty cup to be refilled.

"I thought I'd check," the woman said as she poured the hot liquid into my cup, "only there isn't one scheduled you see, not until next week. So what brings you here then?"

"I just wanted to come," I said as she sat down next to me, "pay my respects you know?"

"You lost someone then? A family member or a boyfriend?"

"Yes," I said taking a sip before correcting myself, "no, nothing like that; I lost my best mate. He died when we were serving together in Afghanistan, Christmas time '07, lost a few more mates last year too."

"That's awful," she said honestly, not a hint of the false sincerity I'd got from Amy's mates' in the days after my return. "What unit were you in?"

"Specialist services, I was with the Close Protection Unit. Part of the Military Police," I added seeing her puzzled look.

"Oh, I see; are you still serving?"

"Not any more," I said shaking my head and taking another sip to hide the pain. "I got injured last year in an ambush and had to leave."

"I'm sorry to hear that," she replied holding out her hand. "Thank you for your service."

"Thank you," I replied shaking it awkwardly, more than a little stunned. I couldn't remember a time when anyone had actually thanked me for what I had done; looked at me with distain and suspicion yes, even Emily had done that, but thank me? Never.

"Your food will be ready in just a few minutes," she said with a smile and a wink, "I'll bring it over."

There were a few more people in the café by the time I finished the 'full English' I'd bought; the hubbub of conversation proving a slight distraction from my thoughts. One day in and I felt like an utter shit, I was already worrying about Emily, wondering where she was and what she was doing. It wasn't helping me sort out my head, but I simply couldn't help it.

Pushing away my plate, my stomach making appreciative noises as I was back, I glanced at my watch; the watch that Emily had bought me, and saw it was nearly lunchtime. Long past time to get myself sorted; I got up and paid for the meal, risking a smile at the woman that served me as she handed me my change, despite my gloom.

"A few of our visitors like to visit the war memorial," she said as I turned to walk out, "to pay their respects."

"I'll bear it in mind, thank you," I said politely.

"Not a problem, have a good day."

I could feel eyes looking at me as I walked towards the door. I felt like a bit of a freak actually, even if I could tell that none of the looks that were aimed at me were hostile. It was a relief when I closed the door and stepped out into the sunshine, finding myself anonymous once more. I wandered the streets of the town, smiling in places as I saw messages of support, unit badges, or just the good old Union Flag placed in windows. To an ex-squaddie like me it was an emotional place to visit; I'd heard of how the people here had took the troops to heart, supporting families, friends and comrades as they brought their loved ones home. I wish I could have been here that cold winters day when Paul was brought through these very streets and I wondered how many of my boys had done the same journey whilst I was chained to those hospital beds.

On a whim I walked into a florist's shop, not missing the 'Help for Heroes' sticker displayed proudly under the Interflora one.

"Can I help you?" a friendly voice asked as I stared at the buckets of flowers that covered the floor.

"I'd like some flowers I think," I said distractedly, looking at the massive choice. I'd never been a flower person, the few times I'd bought them for Amy I'd done it off the internet, or just rung up a shop and got them to arrange it for me. I'd never really been bothered, unless I was visiting mum's grave, then I always bought chrysanthemums; mum had always loved chrysanthemums, our houses were always filled with them.

"Well then, I suspect you've come to the right place," the voice said amusedly and I turned to see a smiling face that was almost hidden behind short stubble and shiny hair gel. "How can I help you?"

"Don't know," I replied frowning, "a wreath or something I guess."

"Ok…" the man said thoughtfully as if dealing with an idiot like myself was a daily occurrence. "Why don't you tell me what you're planning to do and I'll see if I can suggest something."

I nodded and explained that I wanted something to place at the memorial, something to honour Paul and the boys I'd lost along the way. To his credit the florist nodded sympathetically as I spoke and the amused tone slipped from his voice. "We got a lot of requests like this," he said simply, stepping out from behind his tiny counter and ushering me over to a small display on a stand. These are our most popular choices, but this one is probably our best seller.

"I'll take it," I said looking at the black ribbon that rested diagonally across the wreath, the words 'in memory' picked out in a tasteful white font.

"Don't you want to know the price?" he said as he lifted it from the display.

"Not really," I replied taking out my credit card and handing it over.

"Knew I should have picked the most expensive one in the shop," he said with a grin as he processed the transaction.

"There's still time," I said smiling back, his cheeky humour amusing me.

"Tempting," he joked, "but my conscience would never forgive me, would you like to write a card?"

I nodded and he slid over a small card and a pen, turning away to finish the transaction. I thought for a second before scribbling on the card; a simple message, but one that meant a lot.

'_To Paul 'Whitey' White and all the members of the CPU that weren't as lucky as me. Thank you for your sacrifices, I'm sorry, rest in peace…Snowy'_

It wasn't much, probably wouldn't stop them from haunting my dreams, but it was something; something I hadn't done and probably should have. I handed over the card and waited as he tucked it into the wreath with a practiced hand. As I looked on I had a sudden idea, something else that I should have done but hadn't. Taking the wreath I explained what I wanted to do and with a simple four digit code my conscience was salved again.

With the soft tinkle of the doors bell I walked out of the shop and out into the sunshine once more. I knew I was procrastinating, that I should have left town already and continued on my way, but doing what I was doing seemed right. I walked through the town to the war memorial and stood in front of it, wreath in hand, while I collected my thoughts. Formally I stepped forward, the motions almost instinctive; I placed the wreath down in an empty spot and stepped backward, standing at attention and saluting stiffly.

"I'm sorry," I whispered as I dropped my arm to my thigh, "I let you all down I know. I'm really, really sorry."

o+o+o

I was on the road again when my phone chirped the arrival of another message, one more text from Emily asking if I'd eaten and was I all right. I decided not to reply right there and then, messing about with my phone at seventy miles an hour not being conducive to my continued health and well being. I wasn't ignoring it though, not like earlier; I know it's hard to tell from text on a screen, but she sounded worried and she deserved better than me being a bitch.

Figuring that a toilet break was necessary anyway, I looked out for a services to pull into, fuming that there wasn't ever one around when you needed one. Fifteen minutes of hard driving later I saw a sign, but had received another text. Ignoring it for now I concentrated on driving, checking my mirrors regularly for suspicious cars; I wasn't looking out for terrorists, but for coppers, an entirely different kind of danger. I normally didn't speed, my MP's instincts of following the rules thrown totally out of the window in my haste to find somewhere to pull over.

Finally I pulled up in a safe place and grabbed my phone, jabbing at it until the message appeared.

'_Are you ignoring me? )-:'_

It read, making me irrationally angry. Seriously, did I have to reply to every fucking message she sent me, could she not understand that I needed some space? It wasn't until I'd taken a walk into the services and bought myself a coffee-to-go that I was calm enough to reply.

'_Sorry, I was driving,'_ I typed, _'yes I've eaten, don't worry.'_

I pressed the send button and sat back, only to get a reply within seconds.

'_Where are you love? What you up to?'_

'_Just pulled into a motorway services,' _I replied cryptically, _'drinking a coffee.'_

'_Are you ok?' _came the instant reply.

'_Yes, fine,'_ I replied as I made my way back to where I had parked, the coffee burning my fingers as I crossed the black tarmac. I stared at the two words before pressing the send button quickly; stabbing at it as if hoping my frustration would be sent along with the message.

'_That's good, miss you,' _came the response, but this time I didn't reply; already starting the truck and heading for the open road. Time was ticking and I didn't want to waste any more of it; there was a long way to go before I'd get to Cheltenham and I still needed to find a place to stay.

o+o+o

Day two of my enforced separation found me in a Premier Inn just outside Cheltenham, not a million miles from where I grew up. Two days, two different hotels, not the life I'd imagined for myself when I joined Close Protection, still it was better than my old cardboard castle, even if it was one hell of a lot more expensive. After a hearty breakfast in the hotel I was feeling good, and ready for the day's plans.

I'd got another goodnight and good morning message from Emily, finding them on my phone when I woke up screaming again. I didn't reply, again; instead opting for a shower and the promise of hot food. I knew that I needed to stop checking my phone for messages from her; the trouble was I didn't think I could. I stopped myself from sending a reply for the nineteenth time since I woke up, left the hotel and hit the road, I had one stop to make, and then I was going to see the one person that could help me right now.

The wind was drifting through the broad oak tree that shaded mum's grave, it sounded like the leaves themselves were whispering their welcome to me as I picked my way through the gravestones careful not to step where I shouldn't.

"Hi mum," I said as I laid another set of freshly bought flowers on the grave, sitting down on the warm grass next to the headstone. "Don't say it…I know"

o+o+o

"_Hi mum," I said, throwing my gym bag into a corner and flopping down on the sofa in the living room next to her._

"_Hello love," she replied wrapping an arm around my shoulders, "what's wrong?"_

"_What makes you think something's wrong?" I asked snuggling into her embrace, feeling warm, and comfortable, and comforted for the first time that day. _

_It had been a few weeks since my outburst in the kitchen, and we'd already managed to regain that which we'd lost. It had taken effort and a lot of bitten tongues, on both our parts, but we'd made it; made it beyond that mother-daughter relationship that stories people always talk about and into the level of friendship that people dream of. She was more than my mum, she was my mum, and my best friend and everything; all parcelled up for me in one person._

"_Naomi love, you can't fool me; the _only_ time you ever come home and sit with me like this is when something is bothering you…also you're late home which means you've been in the gym or the pool for longer than normal so…"_

"_Ok, you got me, I said with a reluctant grin, "I had a shit day at school, as usual."_

"_Are the other kids giving you a hard time again?"_

"_Don't they always?" I replied with a sigh, "Bad enough I get called a freak, now they're calling me queer too."_

"_Does that bother you love?" Mum asked, tightening her grip on my shoulders, her fingers rubbing my arm gently. _

"_Not as much as it used to," I admitted, "but yeah, it does a bit. I wish they'd just leave me the fuck alone."_

"_You know they're only doing it because they're jealous don't you?" Mum said placing a kiss on my head. "They're jealous because you're the sort of incredible person that they wish they could be."_

"_Ha!" I said with a smile, "An incredible person that doesn't go on dates with the boys, doesn't go to parties, and spends all their time in a grotty gym or swimming in a grubby old pool."_

"_You know something love?" mum said, twisting around to look at me. "One day those same people will look at you, if they're not already, enviously. You're not interested in their bullshit, you run at your own pace, and that's a good thing. You're not a sheep that follows the crowd because it's easier…that's going to make you a better person in the long run, you know that?"_

"_Sure mum," I replied laughing at her words; "doesn't make it any easier to put up with right now you know?"_

"_I know darling," she said squeezing me once more, "but school will be over soon and you'll be in university and this will all be behind you."_

"_Yeah, I know mum…still doesn't make it easy…I wanted to punch Lorraine Stewart in her stupid smug face today; give her something to really hate me for."_

"_But you didn't did you?" she replied smiling._

"_No of course I didn't," I admitted resting my head on her shoulder. "You taught me better than that, really fucking wanted to though…I really did."_

"_I know love," mum said sighing and shuffling to wrap both arms around me; "but you keep turning that cheek of yours. A little bit of bullying like that isn't not worth getting in to trouble for and risking your chance of getting a place at a good university. You're strong enough to ignore it aren't you?"_

"_Of course I am, and that's exactly what I figured," I told her not admitting that I actually had other ideas. I was strong enough to take the crap I was getting, but I wasn't totally sure about going to University, good or otherwise. We didn't have a huge amount of money and going to Uni was one financial burden we could do without; gone were the days of state funded education, welcome to the world of student loans and long payoffs. It was still something I wanted to do, but there was always that fear about making ends meet._

"_Well you did the right thing love, you can't jeopardise your future for a moments anger, and I can't wait to see Marion Stewart's face when my daughter is a successful university student and her pig shit thick daughter is signing on."_

"_Pig shit thick?" I said laughing at mum's indignation, getting a squeeze and another kiss on my head as a reward for my laughter._

"_Absolutely," she replied, laughing with me. "I'll let you into a secret; I cannot stand that woman or her daughter, I would love to see them get their comeuppance. She has opposed every single good thing I have tried to do here, for no reason at all other than she doesn't like me."_

"_I'll let you into a secret too," I replied, glad that the subject of University had passed us by for the moment at least, and that I didn't have to break my mum's heart again by telling her I had my doubts about going._

"_What's that love?"_

"_From what I know precious, special little Lorraine is up the duff; she's been going on about this older man she's been seeing; you know bragging about the places he takes her and the things he's bought her…anyway I was in the changing rooms at school and I overheard Kerry and Sarah gossiping to each other about her being pregnant."_

"_Kerry Lewis and Sarah Jones?" mum said sounding surprised. "They're supposed to be her best friends aren't they?"_

"_Yeah, they're both part of her little gang," I replied thinking about all the times that the three of them had made my life miserable over the last couple of years. "They didn't know I was there, obviously, and from what they were saying I think this older man is also a married man, and isn't too impressed with finding out his bit on the side is pregnant."_

"_Oh dear," mum said with an evil sounding snigger that was most unlike her. "That really will be a scandal if it gets out. How many people knew about this?"_

"_Not many," I said shrugging, "I think they're trying to keep it a secret, unfortunately for Lorraine."_

"_Unfortunately for Lorraine?" mum repeated sitting up and looking right at me._

"_Yeah," I admitted with a sly grin. "Just because I decided not to punch her when she was giving me shit doesn't mean I decided not to bite back."_

"_Oh Naomi you didn't," mum said feigning shock, but I could tell she wasn't quite as annoyed as she sounded, a glint in her eye telling me all I needed to know._

"_I _may_ have let it slip that I'd heard she was expecting, yes," I said with a broad smile. "I _may_ have let it slip right in front of everyone in class, including the teacher as well. I also _may_ have told her where I'd heard it too."_

"_Oh love, that wasn't very nice of you" mum said trying to stifle a broad grin and failing miserably. "Is that why you've been at the gym so long? Have you been hiding?"_

_She knew me so well, of course that's what I'd been doing; staying out of the way and waiting for any dust to settle, just in case. Sheepishly I nodded at her and got a stern look and a cuff on the shoulder._

"_Well I can't say I'm proud of you for doing that Naomi," she said before her face relaxed and a smile broke out, "but I am proud of you for standing up for yourself without hitting anyone. Now I've made some nice soup for dinner, would you like a bowl?"_

_That was just like mum, changing the subject in the blink of an eye. She was in the kitchen, clinking pans and bowls, before I even got to nod. Already off being the mother I'd longed for for years. As she placed a steaming bowl of thick soup and a hunk of bread down in front of me, she ruffled my hair affectionately._

"_Well it looks like half my wish for snooty Marion will come true," she said sitting down by my side once again," so what about the other? Have you decided where you're going to be applying to this year?"_

"_Sort of," I replied evasively. "I've got some literature from a few Uni's, but it's all academic, I might not even get accepted."_

"_Of course you'll get accepted," she said confidently, "you're my daughter, how on earth can you fail?"_

"_Quite easily mum," I replied bowing on the spoonful of soup that was steaming in front of me. "I'm pretty good at being a failure you know."_

"_Bullshit, you're not a failure Naomi; you could never be a failure. You're pretty fucking wonderful actually…"_

o+o+o

"I think I failed again mum," I said as I cleaned away the debris that had accumulated since my last visit. "Fucked everything up as usual, amazing how wrong you could be you know."

There was no reply but the sound of the wind whispering its way through the leaves above me, though if I strained I could imagine I could hear her voice; bollocking me with a smile as usual.

"Yeah, yeah I know…fell in love and bottled it," I said as I rearranged the chrysanthemums I'd brought her, laying them out neatly across the green grass. "Well not bottled it," I corrected myself, "tried to keep her safe and failed, my fucking jinx is still working hard to ruin my happiness. You, Paul, and now Emily has got caught up in it; fucks sake even Amy couldn't escape it, though at least she never got shot at."

I picked at the grass as I explained to the air what I had done; I could almost imagine the disappointment that mum would have in me right now. I knew she'd understand, she always had; but I also knew that she'd be giving me a good talking to right now if she could.

She never took my bullshit, my mum, well when she was paying attention to me that was. When she was lost in one of her 'projects' it was like I didn't exist; or at least it was like that until I called her on it. Anyway, I knew she'd be reading me the riot act right about now if she was alive to do so; and knowing that made me miss her all the more. I needed her to give me a bollocking, needed her to give me a hug even more.

"Miss you mum," I said resting my hand on the headstone, "I could really do with some of your words of wisdom right now."

It wasn't until I'd sat back on the grass that I had my revelation, I don't know if it was divine inspiration, plain inspiration or just blind luck; but suddenly I knew how I could get what I needed, or at least I hoped I would. I stayed there for a good while longer, sometimes talking, sometimes not; simply trying to find some comfort in the place where she lay. By the time my stomach stared to rumble, my 'squaddies clock' telling me it was long past lunchtime, I was feeling much, much better about myself.

I was a long way from being fixed, but sometimes just the act of talking about things helps; and even though I don't believe in any of that shit, the feeling that I was at least close to mum certainly helped me.

o+o+o

I grabbed a sandwich from a garage on my way to my lock up, hardly what could be known as healthy eating, but I resolved to go out from the hotel that evening and see if my old sports centre was still open. A nice long swim in familiar surroundings would be just what the doctor ordered right now; another opportunity for me to get things together, and to work off the weight that my bad eating was inevitably building up in inconvenient places.

Plan in place I tucked into lunch, which was surprisingly not bad considering it came from a box and had been made gods know when in the past. I was just downing the dregs of the bottle of fresh orange I'd bought to go with it when my phone beeped to tell me I had a message, the tone telling me it was from Emily.

'_Hi, thought I should say thank you for the flowers, they're lovely.'_

'_It was nothing,'_ I sent back, putting the phone back into its holder and clearing up my rubbish.

'_Not to me. Thank you love, it's nice to know you're still thinking of me.'_

I didn't reply to that message; instead I just stared at it until the words burnt into my eyes. She was right, I _was_ still thinking of her, hadn't _stopped_ thinking of her in fact. It was a problem I was going to have to deal with…how the fuck could I get myself straight when I couldn't get her out of my head? It was fucked up and I needed to find a way to do it, otherwise this was going to be a total waste of time.

I kicked around Cheltenham for the rest of the afternoon, sorting out some bits from my lock up and driving around my old haunts; things had changed a lot in my old neighbourhood, and for the better too by the looks of things. Some of the old buildings had been torn down and replaced with a supermarket; corner shops that I had bought sweets from were either missing or boarded up in its wake, the wonders of mass market selling. The neighbourhood wasn't the same as I remembered it any more; but then I guess, neither was I.

The real downside to my trip was looking for my pool, and finding that the old, crumbling, soot stained building that housed it had been pulled down and replaced with a new, modern sports centre. It was a shame, and a huge part of me felt the loss of my childhood sanctuary with a pain that was almost physical. Still, I took my gear into the shiny building, determined to hit the water, it wasn't going to be the same as it used to be, but it was a pool at least. I hadn't been swimming for what felt like ages, and despite the 'progress' I knew I needed this as much as anything else.

'_Progress isn't always a bad thing'_, I mused as I dived into the gigantic pool, cutting through the pleasantly heated, organically filtered waters with a pleasure I could feel in my bones; even though a small part of me did miss the old pool with its chipped tiles and all too often freezing cold water; water that would burn the eyes with the amount of chlorine pumped into it. It turned out that the old place was demolished not long after I left for the army, and it had been on the books to be upgraded for years; budget cuts putting it back over and over again. I was glad that it had happened that way; it had been my solace for so long I don't know what I would have done without it all those years ago.

I cut effortlessly through the water; arms and legs working in perfect harmony to propel me towards the far side. For the first time in days, weeks even, I'd found my special place; my place of calm and tranquillity, the place where I could finally lose everything around me, surrounded in a bubble so perfect I had no idea what was around me. The constant racket of kids playing vanishing into obscurity; I could have been swimming in the furthest part of the ocean from land for all the awareness I had of my surroundings, I was, at last, totally at peace.

For length after length I powered through the water, changing stroke from crawl, to backstroke to butterfly as the mood took me, the changes in technique helping to alleviate the burning in my joints as I pushed myself harder and harder, clearing my mind as I worked my body. It was a good feeling, and for the first time in days I was able to concentrate on what I came out here for, and give myself a plan. As I swam I could set out everything in my brain, analysing the tactical situation the way I'd been taught; looking for the detail as well as the big picture. By the time I emerged, dripping and exhausted from the water I had it all laid out in front of me; my battle plan was complete, filed and ready for execution. For the first time since I'd left Emily's flat I knew what I wanted and needed to do.

It was much later that night as I lay in my room, staring at the goodnight text that Emily had sent me, that I had chance to put my plan into action. I already had the laptop Emily had bought me on the bed, all powered up with a folder on display. I knew I'd seen a title on the screen when I'd watched the tapes at Emily's; it had intrigued me then but only now did I have a clue as to what it could mean. It was so like my mum to do that, leave me a message with a cryptic title; putting down my phone, the text unanswered, I clicked on the file and launched mum's 'tape'.

o+o+o

'_#27 – Scared?'_

"_Hello love, hope this finds you well._

_Though of course it won't will it? Find you well that is?_

_Naomi dear, I wanted to leave you a message for the times when you get scared; and knowing you as well as I do, that means scared about relationships or something like that; and before you turn off love, bear with me I know what I'm talking about. _

_I know you Naomi, and I know that at some point you're going to get in over your head in a relationship or a really special friendship or something like that, and knowing you the way I do, I know you're going to shit yourself and head for the hills; or perhaps the pool or the gym like you used to when we had problems._

_Right then, as a good mother I need to do this, well actually what I need to do it smack you in the head and tell you to get a grip of yourself, but as I can't do that I guess a chat will have to do…_

_ARE YOU TOTALLY BLOODY STUPID?_

_Seriously Naomi dear I expect better of you than this; whatever is going on in your head you need to get a strong grip of it and sort yourself out. Obviously I don't have a clue what's going on in your life that has made you want to watch this tape; whether it's for the first time or the thousandth…though I hope that's not the case, I'm sure I brought you up better than that..!_

_Yes Angie I know I'm digressing, now shush!_

_Anyway love, as the 'angel of death' behind the camera reminds me; I'm supposed to be giving you some advice about relationships and things like that. Now like I say, I don't really know what's going on, though I wish I did; I can't be there for you love, but I can give you the benefit of my years, so I'm afraid that will have to do._

_Whatever it is that's upset you love, whatever it is that has caused you to come and listen to me, you're going to have to break it down into little parts. If I know you, and I do, your problem is down to being overwhelmed by everything that is happening to you. It was the same with all the stuff you went through at school, you allowed it, and me, and my strange little ways to become one large problem; and then you let that totally dominate your thinking, and that's not good for you love._

_I hate to say this Naomi dear, but you're really not equipped to deal with that many emotions; you're clever, but you're not exactly aware of your feelings. I blame myself for that. I wish I could have helped you more, helped you understand that part of you but this is the best I can do._

_Look Naomi, you're a smart girl, you probably already know what you want and more importantly what you need; all you have to do is accept it. The secret to solving whatever it is that is troubling you…well it's to break everything down into little chunks and then try to solve them one piece at a time. That's the only way I think you'll be able to cope I'm afraid. But I would say to you, don't be scared of the emotions love, don't be scared of the fact that there's a lot going on in your head; but most of all don't run away from it all. You run Naomi, you run so very hard all the time; if you really want to deal with this situation, if you want to deal with your fear, you have to try and face it._

_It's time to stop running Naomi love, because if you're watching this that's what you're doing, and it's what you're trying not to do…I wish I could be there for you my love, I wish that more than I can tell you, because this tape has got to be one of my most worthless, because without knowing the details I can't really help you._

_All I can offer is this love, you need to break it all down, work out what it is that's really bothering you and if you still think that you can't sort it on your own then you need to find some help from someone you trust._

_You do have someone you trust don't you love? Of course you do, and you know exactly who it is, or who they are. You know exactly who you have to talk to right now don't you?_

_I dearly wish that I could be there for you, but I know that you'll be in good hands whomever it is you choose to help you…there's no need to be scared when you have friends my darling, there's no need at all._

o+o+o

I closed the lid of the laptop with a thoughtful stare, I'd hoped for more from mum, given how accurate her previous tapes had been, but I guess she was right…how could she give me advice when she was talking to me from beyond the grave? She was right though, I guess I was thinking about too much all in one go; my mind was a total clusterfuck and I needed to sort things out into little chunks so I could solve them bit by bit; starting with the person I was running from.

With a sigh I picked up my phone, it was late, but I was sure that wouldn't matter; I pressed the reply button on the message and typed a short reply, pressing send before I could change my mind. It wasn't long before my phone beeped with a reply, though I will admit that is was the longest few minutes I'd experienced for ages.

'_Good night Nomi, I love you too. Miss you also. When are you coming home?'_

'_Don't know, still got a lot of things to sort out, couple more days perhaps.'_

'_Well I'll be waiting here for you babe, take as much time as you need. Good night, love you.'_

'_Love you too.' _I sent back, because it was true, _'sleep well'_

'_You too,'_ came the reply. It wasn't going to happen, I knew that; and as I switched off the light and settled down, waiting for sleep to overcome me, I knew the nightmares were coming again.

.

.

.

**A/N** I was going to write something here to someone, but you know what? It's really not worth it. To those of you still reading, and that understand the issues I'm trying to cover here, see you next time. I'll try not to make it so long, but this story and life is kicking my ass right now. When I do sit down to write, I get blocked, frustrated and distracted. I have this plan you see, I know where I'm going…I just can't get the detail in to get there…it's so annoying!


	68. Obligation And Honour

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness and a really, really bad temper

**Authors Note: **Right this has finished on my own site now, and as promised I'll complete it (sort of) here. Last message from me, I'm only putting this up here because I was asked to. Everything here is original, and a lot of it was written up to 2 years ago...if you read why I felt I had to leave you'll understand why that's important to me to say.

Es

**Chapter 68 – Obligation And Honour **

I was woken from my sleep, not by a nightmare this time, but by the ringing of my phone; the incessant noise causing me to mutter and swear as I blinked through sleep filled eyes to find out who was calling; only to see it was from a blocked number.

"Hello?" I croaked, jerking awake at the familiar voice that came out of the earpiece.

"Blondie, how the fuck are you?" Cook said with a grin in his voice, "and more importantly _where_ the fuck are you?"

"I'm on holiday boss" I replied, slightly confused, "I'm supposed to be getting away from it all for a few days, having some time on my own, remember?"

"I know that my friend," he drawled back, seemingly unconcerned at disturbing me at stupid o'clock on my day off, "but I wanted to let you know that I'm back in country if you wanted to come visit JJ with me."

"How is the LT boss?" I asked, my stomach clenching at the thought of him being in hospital.

"He's doing good," Cook replied brightly, "isn't out of the woods by a long shot, and he still can't walk; but he's stable and conscious and the dumb fucker keeps insisting he's wiggling his toes at us."

"I take it he isn't then," I replied feeling a bit sick.

"Between me and you blondie, there's a tiny bit of movement…but I'm figuring that if I tell him there isn't he'll keep on fighting to move the fuckers and that's got to be a good thing."

"That's good," I replied flatly. A bit of movement was better than none, but I couldn't help but think that he should still be walking, not lying in a hospital bed attempting to move his fucking toes. He'd survived I don't know how many tours of duty while he was in the CPU, seen action several times with me along the way too. It had been my job to keep him safe back then, in Iraq, and it should have been part of my job this time too.

"More than good Naomikins, it's fucking awesome. So when are you coming to see him then, he's been asking after you since before we left Baghdad."

"I don't think that's a good idea boss, not right now anyway…"

"Well I do Naomi, call it an order if you like; JJ wants to see you and so do I, I'm going to mail you the address of the hospital he's in and I expect to see you…soon."

"But…"

"But nothing, come on Naomi; Effy's told me what's been going on while I've been away and I understand, but it's time to come home my friend."

"I am home Cook," I told him, "I'm in Cheltenham right now, and that's a long way from London."

"Well get your butt back here as soon as you can then Naomi, don't forget you've got to be back at work Monday morning and I want you on your A-Game again."

"Yeah, we need to talk about that boss," I ventured, waiting for the explosion but getting only a sigh.

"Yeah, that I do know blondie, and I sure as hell ain't having that conversation over the phone…look, I've just sent you the address of my place; get yourself here and bring whatever things you're carrying with you…I've got a washing machine around here somewhere and I dare say you need one."

"Will Effy be there?" I asked hesitantly

"Well of course she will blondie, she lives here. Why, is there a problem? I thought you two got on now?"

The question was added with genuine surprise and a little hint of disappointment; as if he could not image why I would have a problem with her.

"We do," I reassured him carefully, "now she's forgiven me for knocking out her brother that is; but I get the feeling she's going to give me a hard time right now, and I can't be dealing with that from both of you."

"Just get over here Naomi," Cook said quietly. "If you're where you say you are, I'm pretty sure you can be here by lunchtime. No hard times I promise you; from either of us. Jaykins wants to see you mate, he wants to say thanks face to face."

"We'll see," I said reluctantly, already wondering what excuse I could come up with. "I still have some things to do here you know, then I have to find myself somewhere to rent."

"Well you can't find a place from the other side of the country Naomikins, the internet's good but it isn't that good. So will you be here for lunch or for dinner?"

"Dinner," I sighed giving in, "if I can find somewhere to stay that is. I'll come over when I'm settled in, I assume there's a hotel or something nearby?"

"Don't worry about a hotel kid; Effy's got our guest room already made up for you, all you need to do is get here."

"Ok fine," I said, giving in as my last hope of escape evaporated. "I'll be there later."

"Lookin' forward to it already Naomikins," Cook said with a smile in his voice, "see you soon babe."

"Don't call me babe Cook," I said, before realising that he'd already hung up. I lay back into the cushions, pulled the duvet over my head and snuggled down once more, hoping to get an extra couple of hours sleep. As I prepared to steal back my rest from the nightmares that had plagued me I grinned involuntarily to myself as I made a mental note to have words about that babe comment when I saw Cook later.

The little sod was going to pay for that, and best of all he probably knew it as well.

It was a couple of hours later that, with some effort, I dragged myself out of bed and into the shower; Cook having effectively ruined my day of lounging around and doing nothing. I hadn't paid for another night, but I'd been assured when I checked in that I could extend my stay pretty easily if I wanted to. Well, if I was going back to London now then there was no point in laying out any more cash than I had to; which meant I needed to get sorted, packed and out before eleven.

Getting up wasn't normally a big issue for me, but as the clock ticked ever onwards I'd found myself using any reason not to get out of bed, even the unheard of excuse of 'just watching until the adverts' on some ridiculous daytime chat show thing; I think the truth was I didn't want to leave my little pit of dissatisfaction and head back to London.

I didn't want to face the results of my incompetence.

o+o+o

The day flew by, as days often do when there is something you don't want to do approaching. All too soon I was forced to punch the address into the 'bird in the box' and make the journey back across the country towards London. As journeys go it was uneventful, but what's more it was boring; I found myself missing Emily's ridiculously cheesy music choices and singalongs as I drove along, missing the companionship we had shared as we travelled. My head was a fucking mess, but there was one thing that cut through it all. I missed my Emily, it had only been a few days and I missed her; I had nearly killed her, and ever since we'd met she'd been to hell and back with attacks and tragedies and everything else…but I still missed her and I wished that she was sat next to me, taking the piss and making me laugh.

I missed the companionship that we had shared; I missed her like I missed my mum, like I missed Whitey. It was fucking pathetic, but it was undeniably true; I missed my little redhead with a passion that was hurting me, and that was a problem.

A problem I needed to solve.

o+o+o

By the time I pulled up outside the tidy set of houses that lay at the end of a tidy little close I didn't have any excuses left. I really wanted to drive away, but obligation and honour had led me here, and obligation and honour left me sitting outside with the engine still running.

"Coming in Naomi?"

There was a knock on the glass, and I turned to see the bright blue eyes of Elizabeth Stonem staring back at me through the lightly tinted glass of my driver's side window.

"What?" I replied dumbly, turning off the engine.

"Are you going to come in, or are you going to sit out here and annoy the neighbours all evening…because I tell you, Mrs Williams at number four will be screaming in annoyance at you right now; she hates anything that ruins her peace and quiet, like the noise of a big old diesel engine ticking over for fucking ages…see what I mean?"

I looked up to see the light from a window vanish as the brunette waved cheerily across at the house she had pointed out, a curtain swishing in its wake. "Come on then, Cook's dying to see you."

"Not even funny," I muttered to myself as I opened the door causing Effy to step back out of the way.

"What isn't?" she asked as I climbed out, her hearing as good as ever. I chose to ignore her question, instead opening the boot and dragging out my battered travel bag; still covered in airport labels and not looking as neat as it had when I bought it, barely a month ago.

"Ready," I said as I slammed the hatch and locked the beemer, throwing the bag over my shoulder. "Which one's yours?"

"This one here," she replied, linking her arm with mine and leading me towards a large, expensive looking detached house sitting slightly back from the road; a neat and tidy garden in front of it. It was almost the epitome of suburban luxury living, and for some reason the last place I expected Cook and Effy to own; a luxury designer studio flat being, in my mind, more their style. "Come on in Naomi," Effy continued, "make yourself at home, James is just tidying up, he can be a bit of a neat freak at times, drives me mad."

"Army training," I told her as I walked though the door, "they sort of drum it into you."

"That's what he says," Effy said tugging at my jacket, "let me take that, go on through."

Like my idea of their trendy loft apartment I was expecting a minimalist house, all fashion and no comfort; what I found was a comfortable family looking home, the walls plastered with pictures of Cook and Effy, individually and together. I paused in the hallway and stared at a particular print, framed and sitting on a ledge. I couldn't help grinning as I looked into the cheeky smile of a young James Cook, unmistakable despite the camouflage paint that covered his face.

"Basic training," I heard him say and turned around to get wrapped up in a hug, "best and worst days of my life."

"I hear that," I said as he released me, "good to see you boss."

It was as well; despite my previous reservations it was really good to see him again. 'There's no need to be scared when you have friends' my mum had told me in yet another perceptive tape. The thing was, what do you do when you're scared of simply having friends? She never said anything about that.

"Well it's _damn_ good to see you Naomikins, where have you been hiding this week? That was one hell of a cryptic message you sent me."

"Not now James," Effy said dragging me away, "let the poor girl sit down and have a drink; I bet she's been driving all day."

I stared at Effy's retreating back as she left the room with her usual grace after depositing me on one of their sofas; this was totally out of character for her, and it was making me nervous.

"She's promised to be on her best behaviour," Cook explained as he flopped down next to me. "I told her that you wouldn't come if we weren't especially nice to you."

"That's not what I said Cook," I replied rolling my eyes in frustration, "I just didn't want to be given a hard time over what's happened."

"Yeah well, what _has_ happened blondie?" Cook said, turning in his space and leaning back putting his hands behind his head. "Last time I saw you and Emily you were a bit shook up but you seemed fine, then you suddenly want a holiday and then when I get home Eff's telling me you've practically broken up with that pretty little red-head."

"Emily's a brunette boss, well she was."

"Don't you be changing the subject Naomikins," Cook replied wryly, sussing me out instantly. "If you don't want to talk about it that's cool, if you do…well I'm ready to listen."

"We're both ready to listen," Effy said from the doorway she had vanished through, "no hard times as promised."

"Nothing to say," I replied quickly, ignoring Effy and concentrating on Cook, "nothing I care to share anyway."

"Fair enough," Cook said with a smile, "you eaten tonight blondie?"

"I had something for lunch," I said suddenly realising I was getting hungry again, even though it was only six o'clock.

"Well that means one of two things my friend," Cook said with a broad grin.

"No James," Effy interrupted as Cook waved her away.

"It's either a takeout, or one of the Cookiemonsters famous barbeque's."

"No barbeque's James," Effy said firmly, "you are not setting fire to the fence again, I'll get the menu's, what do you fancy Nai, Chinese or Indian?"

"Dunno," I replied, ignoring the unfamiliar shortening of my name, "not really that hungry to be honest."

"Well we have an awesome Indian not far from here Naomikins; tell you what, why don't we go out for a meal?"

"I'm not su…" I started, only to be immediately interrupted by Effy.

"That's an excellent idea," she said with a smile, "Naomi, why don't I show you where your room is, then you can get freshened up if you want to; not that James' favourite curry house is much on ceremony."

"The food's pretty good though darlin'," James said giving me a grin and a nudge. "We're not much for the curries in old Baton Rouge, but I have to say I've got a taste for them since I've been here."

"What's not to like," Effy said with a smile, "good old British cooking like that."

She winked at Cook as he chuckled at what was obviously a private joke between them and held out her hand, motioning at me to take it. As she hauled me to my feet she gave me a slap on the back of the head.

"That's for leaving Naomi; I promised myself I'd give you that," she explained. As I rubbed the back of my head she wrapped her arms around me and hugged me tightly, "and that's for coming back so soon….I promised myself I'd do that too," she added sheepishly. "Come on, I'll take you up."

The room I was left in was nice, nowhere near the size of the room I used in Fitch Manor, but then what was? It was a decent size though, a built in wardrobe dominating one wall and a double bed plopped in the centre, dominating the space.

"Bathroom's next door," Effy had said before she left, "it's all yours, James and I have an en-suite we can use. I'll go and try and make us a reservation…make yourself at home."

I dug through my travel bag, looking for something that was clean and presentable and finding sweet fuck all. The stuff that was clean was creased as fuck, and the rest was in need of that washing machine Cook had mentioned. Finally I settled for the clothes I was in, a quick wash, a shot of deodorant and a quick spray of perfume solving the worst of my problems; if Mr and Mrs fucking Cook didn't like it they could just lump it, after all I didn't exactly want to be here.

"Naomikins," Cook's voice called up from downstairs as I stripped off my shirt in the bathroom, a bowl full of hot water in front of me. "Effy's got us a table booked in an hours time, you ok with that?"

"Yeah," I called back, my mind elsewhere; _'great'._

o+o+o

"Good meal that," Cook said with a slight booze fuelled slur as I drove the three of us back to their home, "damn good meal."

It had been as well, though despite feeling hungry when we left I'd merely picked at my meal. The best thing about it was there had been no talk of Emily, or Fitch Industries while we ate; in fact the conversations revolved around James and I swapping stories from our time in service, his becoming more interesting as the beers went down.

"I'm glad you think that James," Effy said from the back, "you ate most of it all on your own." Despite the words there was not a hint of chastisement in her voice; in fact she had seemed amused by his antics all night long.

"I was hungry lil'darlin'," he said with a laugh, "besides you polished off a fair amount yourself; who ate the bulk of everyone's desserts? If anything blondie here should be the one complaining, she barely touched her food."

"I'm eating for three James remember?" Effy joked, startling me a little. "We're expecting twins Naomi, the specialist confirmed it yesterday."

"Congratulations," I said staring at her in the rear view mirror. "Twins eh boss?"

"Twins," Cook replied, sighing happily.

"I'm glad you're happy about it," Effy interrupted, slapping the back of the passenger seat good naturedly causing her fiancé to grin widely, "you don't have to give birth to them both. Twice the pain James Cook, I may never forgive you for this."

"How is that going to go with your filming?" I asked hoping to change the direction of the conversation just in case.

"Actually it's good," Effy said leaning forward, "my agent told them and we were expecting the worst but they signed me up for an extension. They told me it was perfect for the role."

"Being pregnant?" I asked dumbly, the world that she lived in totally alien to me.

"Yeah, I've got a slightly bigger role, but there's a strong possibility they'll kill me off somehow at the end."

"Doesn't seem right that," James said as I pulled up outside their home. "Killing you off that is."

"Well it might not happen," she said opening the door and climbing out, "but if it does we'll cross that bridge then. Now come on…home James."

We sat around their kitchen table, a cup of tea for me, a small glass of wine for Effy and yet another bottle of beer for the boss; for the first time since the 'incident' I felt relaxed and comfortable with the people I was with.

"Well, I'm off to bed I'm afraid," Effy said eventually, yawning and getting to her feet her wine practically untouched. "You guys have fun."

"Night babe," Cook said as she draped herself over his shoulder, twisting round to kiss her goodnight. "I won't be long myself."

"Be as long as you like," Effy said ruffling his sandy hair affectionately, "just don't come to bed singing again."

"Sure thing lil'darlin', sleep well."

"Night Eff," I said getting a smile and a hug in return.

"Be nice," she whispered mysteriously, before walking to the door and winking at me. "See you in the morning."

"Drink Naomikins?" Cook said as I listened to Effy's footsteps on the stairs.

"Sure, why not?"

I drifted off for a while, as I heard Cook bustling about in their kitchen, snapping out of my fugue as a loud thump penetrated the fog.

"Drink," Cook said slapping a small glass in front of me, "I think you need it."

"I don't drink Cook," I said firmly as he poured the liquor from a funny looking bottle of Jack into the glass. "Remember?"

"I know that kid," he replied, still pouring, "but I think that just this once you should make an exception. We need to get drunk Naomikins. You and I need, as you Brit's would say, to get totally and utterly shit faced."

"What would I want to do that boss?" I asked carefully sensing a trap, "I've been sober for months now. I don't feel the need to get pissed any more."

"Well one, this is a very expensive bottle of green label, and two, I think it would do you good my friend," he said sitting down and pushing the glass towards me. "You know the score kid you come back from an operation, you get drunk with your team and you mourn your losses."

He had me there, it was a kind of tradition that every unit in the world seemed to follow; that booze fuelled letting off of steam that we all did. Still I was proud of my lack of drinking, and I really _didn't_ feel the need to break it.

"I don't think so boss," I said pushing away the glass, "not my thing any more."

"Why _is_ it you don't drink Naomi?" Cook asked, propriety out of the window it seemed; "do you have a problem or something?"

"Bit personal that boss, don't you think?" I reprimanded him, shaking my head.

"Probably," he said with a wink, "so do you?"

"No," I answered after giving him a hard glare. "I just gave up."

"Well then, no harm in the odd one then," he said sliding the glass across once more. "To JJ."

"To JJ," I toasted picking it up and taking the tiniest of sips to keep the peace, a bit like I had the first time I'd met him; with the drink he'd sent me after our interview when I suspected he was looking on still. It tasted pretty good actually, not like the shit I'd drunk on the streets; that stuff was only a small step up from drinking meths with the rest of the bums.

"How is the LT anyway?" I asked, almost reluctantly, I wasn't sure if I wanted to hear the bad news.

"Not great if I'm honest," Cook said pouring himself another drink and confirming my worst thoughts. "He was pretty badly injured in that attack blondie, and the doctors over here don't think much of the care he got in the hospital over there."

"How so?"

"I believe one of the surgeons described them as 'fucking cowboys'," Cook explained, taking a long sip of his drink. "They made a bit of a botch job of his back, from what I can understand there's some internal damage from the op' that might be causing some pressure on his spine, they opened him up this afternoon to see if they could fix it."

"He's back in surgery?" I said, my fingers twitching, wanting to reach out to take the glass that lay in front of me and down it in one, my stomach churning at the thought; "is he ok?"

"Well like I say, he's not good, but fingers crossed for the morning, we're all going in to see him tomorrow afternoon."

"All?" I replied frowning, "who's all?"

"You me and Eff," he replied with a knowing look, "don't panic Naomikins, we haven't arranged for the little lady to be there to ambush you."

Inwardly, I winced at the ambush comment, my mind dragged back to Baghdad and the reason I was here, and the man that was lying in a hospital bed as a result of my carelessness.

"You ok there Naomi?"Cook said suddenly, knocking me out of my thoughts of that hot and sunny day filled with love and lead. It was a concerned looking Cook that met my eyes as I raised my head. There was a familiar ring to the look he was giving me, concern tinged with a hint of something else; it was a look that Grouch had given me now and again, and one that wouldn't have looked out of place on Whitey's face either; perhaps it was that look that sparked what happened next.

"Not really boss," I told him shaking my head, "I don't think I'm ok at all."

"I figured," he replied with a smile, "or at least, my beloved 'figured' and sorta told me to fix it…well, you."

"You can't fix it boss, or me; you know the score, I just need to get all this sorted in my head."

"What you need, Naomikins, is a fucking drink," Cook replied shaking his head at me and pushing my glass closer. "_You_ know the score about that, I doubt it was any different in that pussy filled unit you were in that it was in the Rangers, get pissed and talk it out with your mates."

"Pussy filled unit?" I spluttered, waking from my mental fog to glare at him, truly angry at the insult. "Fuck you Cook, at least we got up close and personal with the bad guys, pussies are the guys that hide a mile away from the fight with milk and fucking cookies and plink away through a scope all safe and sound!"

He stared at me for a second eyes bulging, I'd just convinced myself that I'd gone way over the line when he suddenly burst out laughing. "that's better blondie," he replied, chuckling away and shaking his head, "thought I'd lost you totally my friend."

"What do you mean lost me?" I snapped, fighting back a snigger despite myself, his humour still as infectious as ever.

"Well you have been a full on miserable twat all night mate, forgive me for thinking you'd changed for the worst, lost it you know?"

"Oh fuck off Panda," I replied, using the nickname I'd learned from Karl, before feeling another tinge of regret as I remembered what had happened to him.

"Where the fuck..?" Cook spluttered, almost choking on his drink; "that fucker, I will rip his fucking nipples off the next time I see him!"

"If he's still alive," I said sadly, picking up the glass once more and swirling the liquid around morosely.

"Oh he'll still be alive Naomi," Cook replied confidently, "he's a tough old fucker that boy, we went through a few tough scrapes in Iraq I can tell you…."

He paused, staring at me thoughtfully, "…you don't want to hear about those though do you my friend?" he continued quietly; "not right now anyway."

"Not really," I told him shaking my head, "or not at all if you'd prefer."

"Rather get pissed?" Cook asked with a wink.

"You're very persistent Panda," I replied smiling at his cheek, "are you trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me? Because I should remind you, you're not my type, and I am trained to handle drunken squaddies."

"Like that would ever happen blondie," he scoffed, "we're mates…mates for life in fact; and besides there's a little lady upstairs that would tear my balls off if I even tried…if they were still there that is."

"Try it on with me _mate_," I joked, "and she'll have to open up your throat to rip them off."

"Touché buddy," Cook said raising his glass and tilting it towards me before downing it in one smooth gulp. "You're a few behind by the way," he added topping up his glass once more. "To the lost and the injured," he toasted, looking at me expectantly.

"The lost and the injured," I replied finally lifting my glass and chinking it against his. I downed the harsh spirit in one gulp, the alcohol burning my throat as it went down.

"Another?" Cook said as he filled my glass to the brim.

"Do I get a choice," I said picking up the glass and spilling a fair chunk onto the tablecloth.

"Not at all mate, get it down you!" Cook encouraged, "we fucking need this mate. To absent friends."

"Absent friends," I toasted, my guilty heart dragging my mind to thoughts of an absent girl. At Cook's salute I downed the glass to empty my brain of loss, loss of parents, friends, comrades, and lovers.

"That's my girl," Cookie replied downing his own glass and reaching for the bottle, "I told you that you needed to get pissed with me."

"I'm not getting pissed Panda," I said sipping at the drink he'd poured, "I'm not even enjoying this shit, I'm just being sociable."

"That's what everyone says to me," he said sipping at his own drink, "but you know what happens next…"

Two hours later Cook was proven correct, my words slurring more than slightly as the alcohol took hold. I wasn't totally pissed, but I was drunk enough to be able to forget myself a little, which I think was his plan all along.

"So we dropped in by chopper about ten clicks from the target," Cook slurred, totally three sheets to the wind. "Then we snuck in under cover of darkness and dug in."

"Then what?" I said with a smirk, "you went to sleep?"

"I wish blondie; then I spent the next eleven hours with my eye glued to a scope waiting for the target to turn up."

"I really can't see you having the patience for that boss," I told him, the booze making me slightly less than circumspect. "I have no idea how someone like you manages to shoot like you do."

"What can I say blondie, I'm fucking good at what I do…_everything_ I do that is."

I groaned as he raised his eyebrows at me, wondering if a response was warranted. Eventually I decided to go back to my drink and ignore him, causing him to chuckle loudly.

"You're such a tosser boss," I told him as he waggled his eyebrows, cheeky grin firmly fixed to his face.

"You know it Naomikins, and you love it…all the ladies do."

"Oh shut the fuck up," I said with a grin, "I didn't come here to sit and listen to you massage your ego."

"So why did you come?" he replied pointedly, downing yet one more shot.

"Because you made me you twat," I said, downing the last of my drink and sliding the glass across to him. "You ordered me here remember?"

"Yeah well, I needed to drag you away from that voyage of self pity you seemed hell bent on pursuing. Do you have any idea how much shit I have had from Eff about you since I got home?"

"She should mind her own bloody business," I said, taking the refilled glass and taking a long sip.

"Oh Naomi, it _is_ her business, haven't you learned that yet? Anything that affects people she likes becomes Effy's business; you're just more fucked because she likes you _and_ your girlfriend."

Cook watched me as I drained my whiskey, rolling it around in my mouth before swallowing; now enjoying the smokey flavour more than I'd admit.

"So are you going talk to me about it Naomi?" he said finally breaking the silence, "That is why we're here isn't it?"

"About what?" I replied getting a frown in response as my glass was refilled for the umpteenth time.

"Don't be evasive mate, you know that there are two things you need to talk about, you and Emily and what happened in Baghdad."

"and what if I don't want to talk about them boss?"

"Then it's your loss my friend, because I've been there too and I'm probably the only person that understands what you're going through."

I took sip from my drink and stared at him thoughtfully, chewing my lip as I swirled the amber liquid around the tumbler, eschewing ice as a matter of principle.

"Think it over mate," Cook said getting to his feet slightly unsteadily. I'm going to find another bottle, if Eff hasn't hidden it again.

I stared into space as he vanished, mulling over his words. I could hear him humming away in their neat little kitchen, a tuneless little dirge that kind of matched my mood. I had never been a morose drunk in the past, quite the opposite in fact; I guess that's something else that had changed during my time on the streets, and tonight was reminding me why I'd quit.

"Found the really good stuff," Cook said dropping a fancy looking bottle of Scotch on the table. "She'd hidden it with the cleaning stuff."

"Fuck, that's older than me," I said squinting at the label.

"Older than me too mate," Cook said with a grin as he sat down and slid a clean glass across to me. "Just about that is."

"Thirty two years old boss…how old _are_ you?"

"A bit younger than this whiskey blondie," he said cracking the seal and pouring two generous glasses. "So, are you were going to tell me why you don't drink?"

"Used to drink a lot, an awful lot," I said swirling the honey coloured liquid around and sniffing appreciatively.

"How come?"

"Gereshk," I replied simply taking a sip and staring at the table.

"The injuries or the memories?" Cook said sympathetically. "One of my guys, Kyle, he did the same from the pain of a stomach wound, he was never the same…ended up, well, lets say it wasn't a happy ending."

He paused and stared into his glass sadly before looking up at me, "sorry mate…hardly appropriate."

"It's ok," I replied, "that sucks. It was the memories for me, I guess you heard about the nightmares I've been having?"

"Yeah, Jenna mentioned it mate, she told me about helping you get treatment and told me to butt out."

"Well they started after I got kicked out of the CPU, I started drinking to make them go away, but all it did was get me kicked off the sofa of everywhere I could go, that's how come I ended up living on the streets, begging to be able to buy more booze ad sometimes eat. That's how the LT found me, when he gave me this chance…I really paid back that debt didn't I?"

I took a big gulp of the liquid and sat back on the hard backed chair, shuffling my shoulders against the metal frame as I put down the heavy glass with a resounding 'thunk'.

"Easy there blondie," that's a three hundred pound bottle of booze you're chugging down there."

I nearly choked as he revealed the price of the bottle of Glen Elgin he was topping our glasses up from, if I'd have known it was that expensive I'd never have downed it like I had. The most expensive bottle I'd ever drunk was a seventeen year old Suntory that Gill had bought Whitey for his birthday and that had only cost about sixty quid.

We'd sipped that as if it had been stolen from Olympus as well…right now I was feeling very guilty about necking it. Still, I was impressed at the way he'd changed the subject again; easing my embarrassment with consummate skill.

"Come on blondie," Cook said laughing at the face I'd pulled, "grab your glass and let's go sit somewhere comfortable and continue that conversation we were having."

As we transferred our drunken asses into the living room my phone bleeped in my pocket and I juggled with my over filled glass as I pulled it out, desperately trying not to spill the expensive liquor; eventually opting for safety and putting it down onto the side table next to 'my' sofa.

'_Goodnight love, miss you,'_ it read, yet another text from the ever persistent Emily

'_gosdnght llce yiy2,'_ I sent back as I flopped down onto the comfy sofa, frowning at Cook's overly dramatic wink.

"Little lady texting you?" he said with a cheeky grin.

"How the fuck did you know that?" I asked, adding an automatic, "Sir," onto the end without thinking; causing my employer to laugh loudly.

"Oh just the huge smile and then the frown of concentration while you tried to text back blondie," he said between laughs, "never seen you look so seriously at your phone, or anything else for that matter; struggling much?"

"You may have got me slightly pissed you twat" I replied as I reached for my glass and my phone buzzed again. "and you're so not funny!" I continued as I looked down at the screen, and sipped the expensive malt, determined to savour it this time, especially at about thirty quid a glass.

'_Are you ok babe?'_

'_Finw,'_ I sent back quickly, _'bit drink thays all'_

"Fuck off Cookie," I said as Cook laughed at me again, raising his glass in salute.

"I fucking love it mate," he replied as he sipped away, "you and Emily, you're fucking awesome."

"Piss off Sir," I replied as I looked at my phone as another message arrived.

'_But you don't drink?'_ it read, the accusation clear.

'_I do now,'_ I replied quickly, before putting my phone into my pocket and glaring at my smiling boss. Within seconds of doing so the phone rang, causing him to laugh loudly as I pulled it out and stabbed at the 'Ignore' button that appeared under her picture.

"You'll be in trouble for that Naomikins," he said as I flicked the phone onto silent and tossed it onto the table.

"Whatever," I said sighing and picking up my glass, "like I fucking care right now."

"Okay," Cook said frowning and sipping at his drink, "now we _really_ need to talk.

o+o+o

I was woken from the beginnings of another nightmare featuring Emily Fitch by a hand shaking my shoulder roughly. Opening my eyes I blinked painfully as the light hit me; closing them quickly, trying to avoid the pain. Reluctantly I put my hand up to protect myself from the agony only to find it dragged away; I squinted to avoid the stabbing pains, only stare into the angry eyes of one Elizabeth Stonem.

"What the fuck Naomi?" she snapped, "why the fuck have I got a million texts from Emily on my phone asking if I know where you are?"

"What?" I asked stupidly.

"You, you twat," she snapped as I composed myself. "Where's your fucking phone?"

"Effy love, what's all the noise about?" Cook added and I looked across from my sofa to see him stretching, still dressed in the same clothes as last night.

"I'll come to you in a moment James Cook," she said, her eyes launching fireworks into the morning air, as she glared at me. "First I have to deal with this idiot; why haven't you answered your phone? Emily's fucking frantic."

"So what?" I replied rubbing my aching head.

"So? So she's been calling and texting us both all night," Effy replied glaring at me. "I doubt she's slept a wink, why have you been ignoring her?"

"I was busy," I replied, "and she doesn't own me. What time is it anyway?"

"It's time you called her back you idiot," she fumed, "high time in fact; what the fuck were you thinking of?"

"Fucks sake Eff, we're not fucking married you know," I retorted angrily, "I don't have to return every call she makes; we're supposed to be getting some space for fucks sake."

"So you were ignoring her? Jesus Naomi she was worried about you…I have texts from her fretting about you drinking or something."

"That was my fault love," Cook interjected, and Effy turned on him angrily.

"You made her ignore Emily?" she shouted, her hands waving about angrily, "what the actual fuck James? What the fuck were you thinking?"

"No, it was my idea to get pissed," Cook replied calmly, as if used to his fiancée's histrionics, which I suppose he was. "I thought Naomi needed to have a few drinks, open her up so to speak."

"and it won't be happening again," I replied quickly, my hangover making me feel nauseous for the first time in a long time; swearing once again that my drinking days were over, "fuck my head hurts."

"Mine too blondie, that was one hell of a session," Cook replied holding up the empty bottle of whiskey that we'd apparently emptied between us.

"You be quiet James Cook," Effy said waving her finger at him, "why on earth would you get Naomi drunk, you know she doesn't drink anymore."

"He didn't exactly force me you know," I said, trying to stick up for my friend, "he was trying to help."

"You can shush too," she said changing tack in an instant, " why aren't you on the phone to Emily already? I told you she's worried about you."

I looked over at Cook who was biting back a smile, obviously not wanting to annoy his fiancée any more than we already had. Carefully, making sure Effy couldn't see me, I rolled my eyes at him causing that cheeky grin to finally appear on his face.

"Ow," I said sharply as Effy spun around and clipped my thumping head.

"You can stop that shit too Naomi Campbell," she fumed, flopping down onto the sofa next to me. I could see Cook looking at her proudly, or at least I assume it was pride, it could have been something else; Effy Stonem was an extremely attractive woman when she was angry.

"I'm extremely annoyed with the pair of you right now," she continued angrily, "so do not fucking push me…and exactly _why_ you are not on the phone to Emily yet Naomi?"

"Because I've only just woken up?" I said yawning and stretching, "and because I'm feeling like crap?"

"Well that's your own fault," she told me unsympathetically, handing me my phone. "Call her Naomi, you owe her that much at least, she's really worried about you."

"I don't owe her a call Effy," I said resentfully as I scrolled through the missed call and text alerts. "We're supposed to be having a bit of time apart so I can get my head together, but _someone_ can't leave me alone."

I didn't mean it though, the text log was filled with increasingly frantic sounding messages, and I felt bad to have worried her like that.

I was reading her last message when my head jolted as Effy cuffed me again, a sharp pang of pain cutting through my dull ache of my hangover. Cook snorted in amusement as I winced, attracting the attention of his fiery fiancée.

"You!" she snapped at him, getting to her feet. "Come and help me make some breakfast, you pair of drunken bastards probably need it before we go and visit Jeremiah."

I felt a small tinge of guilt as Effy reminded me of the real reason I'd come, lost in the fog of trying to explain my thoughts to Cook over far too many drinks.

"I'll give you a hand," I said getting to my feet unsteadily; the effects of the previous night still evident in my system.

"No you don't," Effy replied shoving me backwards to flop onto the sofa once more, "you _know_ what you have to do."

I did as well, obligation and honour coming to the fore once again; I picked up the phone from where I'd left it and stared at the screen.

"We'll leave you to it," Effy said as she led Cook away, closing the door behind her. I sat in their living room with only the slow ticking of a clock to break the oppressive silence that consumed me. I blinked a couple of times and licked my lips, trying to put some moisture back into them. With an unsteady hand I lifted the phone to my ear and waited for it to connect.

"Nomi, where are you, are you ok?"

"Hi…"


	69. Stuck Between A Rock And A Hard Place

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness and a really, really bad temper.

**Chapter 69 – Stuck Between A Rock And A Hard Place**

"_Hi…"_

"Hey, you're there…are you ok?"

Was I? The answer that was rolling around my head was the same that I gave to Cook last night; but that was last night.

"Fine," I said finally, "bit hung over."

"Where are you?"

"Don't you already know?" I replied, avoiding the question, suspecting that Effy would already have contacted her to tell her everything before coming down to bawl me out.

The silence at the other end of the phone told me everything I needed to know.

"I was worried about you," she said finally, yet again with the hint of accusation in her voice.

"I told you not to be," I told her, repeating an earlier conversation, "I'm capable of looking after myself, even with Cook trying to get me drunk."

"Why was he doing that?" she asked, this time sounding less accusatory and more concerned.

"Because he's a twat," I said loudly, getting a laugh from the other side of the closed door.

"Well yes," Emily replied, "but why really?"

"He thought it would help," I sighed, "you wouldn't understand."

"Try me babe, I'm good at understanding."

"I bristled slightly, my brain hunting through the words and the tone looking for something I could latch onto, something I could use to be annoyed over. Finding nothing I slumped back into the chair, resigned to talking to 'Dr fucking Fitch', psychoanalyst extraordinaire.

"We talked," I said finally as calmly as I could. "He got me pissed because he thought it would help me talk about things."

"What things?" Emily asked quickly, before, "did you…sorry, I didn't mean to…"

"Baghdad," I replied flatly ignoring her apology. I knew what she had meant to ask, had I talked to Cook about me and her? We had as it happened, Cook giving me the benefit of his years of relationship issues along the way. We'd talked about a lot of things as drink after drink passed our lips; I'd told him about what had happened in Baghdad and the reasons why, I'd told him about Gereshk, and Kandahar and half a dozen other places as well.

He'd been right, it _had_ done me good getting pissed and talking things through with someone that had been there, done that and proudly wore the t-shirt. As we talked I realised that I hadn't done this with someone that understood since Whitely had been killed; Paul being the last person I allowed myself to get close enough to talk about the real shit to. It was good to talk to Cook, but as good as it had felt to talk about everything that had happened; and why I felt the way I did, I still didn't have a fucking clue what I was going to do about it all.

I had learned one thing though; James Cook and Joanna Foster were of the same opinion of my problems, even if they expressed it in totally different ways.

"_You're suffering from a classic survivors guilt complex Naomi,"_ Joanna had told me over the phone the other morning, after I'd broken my vow not to call her again after enduring one more nightmare; one more vision of a bloodied and broken Emily Fitch pointing accusingly at me and demanding to know why I'd allowed her to be killed. _"You're looking for every reason to blame yourself for something that wasn't your fault. You did it with your friend Paul and you're doing it now."_

"_You're a fucking idiot Campbell,"_ Cook had said earlier that morning, cuffing my head as we sat on the sofa knocking back the expensive whiskey_, "you should know better than that; shit happens my friend…especially in a combat zone. Sometimes shit just fucking happens."_

"_Why does it always happen to me then Cook?"_ I'd asked as I necked the liquor in my glass. _"From the fucking moment I landed in Basra things have been happening to the people around me…I always thought I needed to be there, to be with them at all times to keep them safe; now I think I might have been hurting them all along."_

"_Like I said, you're a fucking idiot blondie,"_ Cook had repeated pouring us both another drink, _"you're actually thinking of splitting up with that pretty little rich girl over this?"_

"_I don't want to see her hurt boss,"_ I'd replied sadly, _"I love her too much to see her get hurt again because of me. You weren't there mate; you didn't see the terror in her eyes when we were being shot at."_

"_You clearly didn't see the concern in her eyes when you were in hospital you twat,"_ he'd barked in reply, _"fucks sake blondie, you piss me off sometimes."_

"_That's what Amy used to say…sort of," _I'd replied nodding my head and yawning, _"I wasn't a blonde back then though."_

"_Well fuck me if that silly bitch didn't know something about you,"_ he'd joked with a wink designed to rob his words of any offence; _"perhaps she wasn't all bad Barb."_

"_Fuck you Panda!"_

"_Drink up Barb, I have a feeling this is going to take a while."_

I guess it had as well, he'd kept on at me as we drank, pushing me to talk through the things that had happened. Despite my initial reluctance I'd found it really easy to talk to him, and it wasn't just the booze that had caused it. I guess it's something Emily and Joanna would never understand, sometimes you have to have lived through the same kind of shit to know what the thought processes where. Joanna could spout her theories to me, and wrap them all up in kind words, but Cook was more direct, more practical, and a lot more like me.

In the end he'd given me a speech that I think I could have given, explaining in no uncertain terms why he thought I was a twat. He was a good soldier and a good mate James Alouicious Cook was, he wasn't Whitey; but he wasn't a bad substitute.

"Nomi you there?"

I was dragged back to the present by the sound of her voice and I blinked and replied in the affirmative.

"You went away there love, are you sure you're ok?"

"I'm fine Emily, look I only called because Effy told me that I should. I wanted to tell you that I was fine and to stop worrying."

"But…" she interrupted.

"But nothing," I answered back quickly before she could get into full flow. "I'm still working this out Emily, Cook helped, end of; now I need to go, I'll text you or something ok?"

"Ok," she answered sounding hurt, "love you Nomi."

"Love you too," I replied hanging up quickly. I'd done that to her, _was_ doing that to her; it was necessary for both of us, I rationalised, but it wasn't making me feel good.

"Are you done hurting her?" Effy said from the doorway with a face like thunder.

"Are you done listening in?" I accused, staring at her challengingly. I watched coolly as her eyes flashed dangerously; it didn't bother me, right now I was well up for the fight she so obviously wanted.

"Now now ladies," Cook interrupted walking into the room with a plate of freshly buttered toast, "no fighting unless it's involving a plastic pool filled with mud and I have my video camera ready." He winked at me cheekily then waggled his eyebrows; I could feel the pulse in the side of my head slow as he smiled, defusing my anger with his stupid humour.

"Be quiet James," Effy snapped, though I could tell she was trying not to show that she was amused as well.

"No Eff I don't think I will," Cook said asserting himself, "we promised Naomi here that we wouldn't give her any shit while she was with us; she's called Emily like you asked and that's an end to it."

"But..." Effy started before Cook cut her off again.

"Enough lil'darlin', Naomi and me had a goodly long chat last night and that's enough for now; you're not helping by standing there looking like you want to murder her."

"But..."Effy stammered again, and I fought back a grin as I saw their relationship in a whole new light.

"Elizabeth Stonem," Cook warned with a wink to me as he placed the plate down in front of me; "do not make me spank you; though actually, on second thoughts…"

Effy rolled her eyes at his look, eyebrows back in full on waggling mode again, and walked back into the kitchen; a grumpy little huff indicating her displeasure at the turn of events.

"Tuck in Naomikins," he said pushing the plate of toast towards me, my nostrils twitching as I caught a scent of that unmistakably delicious flavour. "I've got a full English on the go in there, something to mop up the booze with. I believe that's what you limeys like after a session 'on the ale'."

I snorted at his attempt at an Oxford-English accent and reached out for a slice of toast raising it to my lips.

"Thanks boss," I said before I took a bite, "for everything."

"Not a problem my friend," he said slapping me on the shoulder, "you've shed blood for me and my people Naomikins, that makes you family. Now eat up, I need to go calm down her ladyship before I get into any more trouble."

He closed the door as he left, leaving me alone once more. Chewing happily on my toast I thought back over our conversations, drunk and sober; I found I constantly had to re-evaluate my sandy haired employer, there was an awful lot going on in his head, and he was a hell of a lot more intelligent that he often pretended to be.

o+o+o

I didn't drive to the hospital, Cook stealing the keys to my X5 from the hallway table before I could grab them; climbing into the driver's seat and buckling in with a smile. Courteously I opened the rear door for Effy, only to be left stranded as she stepped past me primly and climbed into the passenger seat.

"You getting in blondie?" Cool called out as he started the huge engine with a roar, "time's a tickin' you know, can't leave the man hangin' if you know what I mean?"

Ignoring the look that Effy gave me through the side mirror I jumped into the back and strapped myself in. it was probably just as well I wasn't driving, firstly I didn't have a clue where we were going; and secondly, sitting upfront would probably have meant talking to the others, and I really didn't want to do that. At least back here I could close my eyes, feign sleep, and keep myself to myself.

I could hear Cook and Effy chatting up front, their voices lowered so as not to disturb me while I "slept". They'd tried to drag me into their conversations at first, but I'd become an expert at pretending to be asleep when I was with Amy and her mates; Cook and Effy were amateurs compared to them.

"Why did you get her drunk James?" Effy had asked after they'd decided I was genuinely away with the faerys. "You _know_ she quit drinking along time ago, what the fuck were you thinking?"

"I was thinking she needed a friend Eff; she needed someone to get pissed with her and talk shit, so that's what I did."

"What did you talk about?"

"A lot of things, a lot of pretty nasty things actually; that's one fucked up little girl back there."

"Like what? Why is she fucked up?"

"Sorry sweetcheeks, that's between me and her; what goes on tour and all that. We got pissed together as two ex-soldiers and that's where it will remain."

To my surprise Effy dropped the subject, asking one last question before moving onto more mundane matters…

"Do you think it helped?"

"I don't know lover," Cook said so quietly I barely heard him, "but I really hope so."

I thought back to the conversations of the previous night and wondered the same thing; had Cook helped me by discussing my past? I wasn't sure, I guess time would tell.

I must have actually fallen asleep at some point on the journey, lulled away by the rumbling sound of the tyres on the road. It was Effy's amused voice that dragged me from my snooze, that and the shaking.

"Naomi, we're here," she said as I blinked and looked up at her; "and you snore worse than James does, how the hell does Emily put up with you?"

"She snores worse than me," I said unphased by her jibe, "but smells better than some of the blokes I've shared a hooch with so I can live with that."

"Ha," Cook interrupted as he opened my door, "that's what you told me about your ex on your interview Naomikins, you need to update your repertoire. "Though," he added gesturing dramatically for me to get out of the car, "hearing that Emily snores worse than you…well that totally ruins my image of her."

"Frankly I don't think I want to _know_ about your image of her boss," I replied, hitting him on the shoulder as I climbed out and stretched.

"_I_ do though," Effy replied glaring at him. "I really want to know, in fact I think it's something we should have a long chat over James Cook."

"Hey, nothing like that ladies, I merely…"

"Enough James, we will talk about this later," Effy said firmly, glancing at me and winking surreptitiously. "Now I believe we've driven here to see Jeremiah so…shall we?"

The hospital was nicer than the ones I'd stayed in after Gereshk, tucked away at the end of a block paved pathway and surrounded by trees. It exuded a sense of confidence, of professionalism; of expensive calm. It was totally different from the utilitarian professionalism of the military hospitals I'd recuperated in; it just screamed luxury, and that impression didn't leave me as we walked the sterile corridors to the LT's room.

"Hi guys!" Lara said stepping into the corridor to greet us after we knocked on the door. The last time I'd seen her she'd been the epitome of bright eyed and bushy tailed; all bouncy and extravagant. Now she just seemed tired and drawn, beaten down by experience and worry; and it was all my fault.

"How are you doing?" I asked as she dragged me into an uncomfortable hug.

"Better than I was," she replied surprisingly kissing me on the cheek, "I'm really glad he found you that day Naomi; really, really glad! Thank you!"

I didn't reply, just patted her on the back affectionately. She was a nice person, was Lara, and she'd been a great help to me in those early days.

"JJ is desperate to see you," she whispered before she released me, "he's asleep now, but I know he'll want you to wait until he wakes up."

"They've doped him up I guess," I said releasing her and smiling, "I know a fair bit about that."

"No, actually he's just sleeping," Lara said dragging me back and squeezing me tightly. "He's doing much better after the operation yesterday. He's on some powerful painkillers, but he's like his old self when he does wake up."

I felt a tear touch my cheek as she hugged me tightly, "I owe you so much Naomi darling," she whispered, her voice breaking, "so very much."

"You owe me nothing Lara," I whispered back, her wondering how I could break the truth of my negligence to her; "nothing at all."

"Nonsense darling," Lara said, letting me go again and dabbing at her eyes with a tissue, "now come on in all of you."

It was a battered and bruised looking Lieutenant Jones that I saw lying face down on the starched sheets of that hospital bed. His eyes were closed and his face puffy, the trademark curly hair looking flat and lank; my stomach turned over to see him like that, and I wanted nothing more than to run from the room and vomit.

"Take a seat," Lara said softly gesturing at some chairs in the corner of the neat little room; sitting down on one that had been placed next to the 'head' of the bed. As quietly as we could the three of us grabbed a chair and sat down to wait, Cook frowning at me as I positioned mine at the back of the room out of the way. We chatted quietly as we waited for the LT to wake up, Lara gripping his hand tightly. I say we…I didn't say anything at all; I had nothing _to_ say.

After a while the medical team came into the room, checking charts and machines with military precision. It reminded me of my spell in Bastion, the Grey Mafia sweeping around the beds imperiously as they checked our vitals; a well oiled machine with starched collars, polished buttons and an almost ruthless efficiency.

To my surprise they didn't wake the LT, simply placing a cardboard container containing his medicine next to him and smiling at Lara. I'd been dragged from my dreams more often than I cared to remember when I'd been bed-bound; it seemed that they took great pleasure in waking me up just after I'd finally got to sleep.

"Hey," a weak voice called out, causing me to look up; the LT was awake and staring into the eyes of his wife. "Why are you still here, I thought you were going home to see little Albie."

"Like that was going to happen," Lara chided him affectionately, "Albert is quite happy being spoilt rotten by mum and dad right now; how are you feeling?"

"A lot sore," JJ said blinking, "and my feet are cold."

"Well take your painkillers," Lara said holding out the paper cup that the nurse had left, "and I'll tuck your feet into the blankets again. You have a few people here to see you by the way."

"Who's that?" JJ asked as he strained to swallow the tablets with the water that Lara poured for him into what reminded me of a baby cup. I also couldn't help but notice that his feet were tucked well into the blankets, and covered by the obligatory blanket topper.

"Who's that indeed," Cook said dragging his chair around to where JJ could see him, "who the hell else would you expect to be sitting here all night listening to you snore amigo? Just me, and of course all my lovely ladies."

"Ignore him Jay," Effy said, "James, Naomi and I have only just arrived; it's Lara that's been here all night listening to you snore. How are you feeling hun?" she added squatting down in front of him. I winced at the repeated question, a question I'd got sick and tired of hearing myself by the time the endless medical people had finished prodding me.

"Like I've been run over by a tank," he replied causing Lara to frown. "But happy to see you all, how are you doing Sarge?"

"I'm good thanks LT," I replied, not moving from my chair in the corner, staying out of sight and hoping he'd forget about me as Lara adjusted the bed to make him more comfortable as they talked.

"Of course she's fine," Cook added enthusiastically, "she's a legend…how you doing Curly? Still as fucked up as you were in Baghdad?"

Oh fuck you Panda," JJ replied with a wince, "I'm feeling better than I was, I think that last operation has done me some good…my feet are fucking freezing at least so that's a good sign."

"That's a really good sign Curly, shows the fucking op' worked then, you'll be back on those feet of yours as soon as…"

"Don't be daft Cookie," the LT interrupted, "we both know I won't be dancing any time soon."

"You better be ready to dance with me at my wedding Jeremiah Jones," Effy said sitting on the edge of the bed and patting him on the thigh, "I need _someone_ that can dance, you know how bad James is; you did see him at your birthday do last year didn't you?"

"I seem to remember some comments about him looking like he'd been hit by lightning," the LT said with a weak smile.

"You said it looked like he was having a seizure JJ," Lara added shaking her head at Cook who was protesting dramatically.

"Don't you dare criticise my dancing," he said, clicking his fingers and swaying on the spot. "The Cookiemonster has got _all_ the moves."

"All the moves, and all of them bad," Effy said dryly, batting Cook away as he tried to pull her from the bed and onto his impromptu dance floor. "Sit down James, stop annoying JJ; he's supposed to be resting."

I sat and watched their banter, thinking back to a time when I shared the same familiarity with the people around me; joking with Whitey and the boys when we'd gone to visit Grouch in hospital with an ingrown toenail. It was a good memory, a memory that reminded me of everything I'd lost in those fateful few minutes.

"…what do you say Sarge?"

I looked up suddenly as I realised that the LT was talking to me; the confusion must have shown on my face as the four of them grinned at me.

"I was suggesting a party when I get out of here Sarge," the LT said softly, the strain showing on his face; "see if the 'Cookiemonster' here has any moves at all. You could bring Emily along; Effy says she likes to dance a bit."

"Yeah, perhaps," I replied smiling weakly.

"Where is Emily anyway?" he asked frowning and looking around, "it's not like you two to be apart for very long."

"She's about somewhere," I said evasively, wanting nothing more than to have the corner of the room swallow me up.

"Naomi's having a bit of time apart from Emily," Effy corrected me with a look; "she's having a few issues that she needs to sort out apparently."

"Nothing serious I hope," Lara said turning to look at me, "JJ tells me you make a lovely couple."

"Oh they do," Effy agreed, smirking knowingly at me, "took Naomi here a while to accept it, but they were practically made for each other."

"Leave it Eff," Cook chided softly, "we had a deal remember?"

"Deal?" the LT croaked, taking a sip from the cup of water that Lara handed him, "what kind of a deal?"

"The kind where they don't give me a hard time because of what happened," I said getting to my feet. "If you'll excuse me, I need some air."

I could hear them talking as I closed the door behind me. For a change I had no desire to eavesdrop, no need to find out what they were saying; this time I knew that without a shadow of a doubt they were talking about me.

I walked through the corridors of the hospital, following the signs for reception, hoping to find my way to the entrance again. I hadn't been paying attention as Cook had led us to JJ's ward, but the signs were simple enough that even a dumb squaddie like me could follow them; and pretty soon I was outside in the afternoon sun, and able to breathe once more.

"You can't smoke there," a voice called out and I turned to see a bloke dressed in pyjamas and a robe leaning on a wall puffing away; "you have to hide out of the way in case the health Nazi's inside come and get you."

"I quit," I said shaking my head, "just needed a bit of fresh air."

"Well you'll find plenty of that around here," he said dropping his cigarette to the floor and stubbing it out, "and surprisingly it's about the only thing they don't charge you through the nose for."

"I bet," I muttered to his back as he walked away. For a fraction of a second I wondered what his story was; what he was here for and why he was so bitter. I never got the chance to find out though, he'd already gone; another life that brushed past mine without ever really touching. If I'm honest, I think it was better that way, too many lives had become entwined with mine, and too many lives had ended or been ruined as a result.

Shrugging off the malaise that threatened to darken my mood even more I followed a path around the side of the building and found myself in a sheltered little garden area; wooden benches situated around a tidy little rose garden. It was presumably somewhere that staff, patients, or visitors like me could fine a bit of quiet and solitude; a place far away from the sterility of the wards. I pulled out my phone as I sat down in the sun only to find there were no calls and no messages at all. I breathed a sigh of relief as I tucked it away; finally everyone seemed to have taken the hint. I stared at the bee's buzzing around the flowers like natures helicopters and allowed my mind to wander.

o+o+o

"Nice here isn't it?"

"Sorry?" I said opening my eyes to find Lara say on the bench next to me.

"I said it's nice here, it's a really good hospital."

"Yeah," I replied uncertainly, wondering what this was about.

"It was kind of Mrs Fitch to arrange this for JJ, this place must be frighteningly expensive."

"I guess," I replied shrugging my shoulders, "Jenna said that JJ deserved the best; I hope it'll do him some good."

"Well they highlighted the deficiencies in the previous operation," Lara said quickly, "and they've fixed them, I wish they'd done a better job in Iraq, the doctors here say JJ could be weeks ahead of where he is if they had."

"I wish he'd never been injured at all," I grumbled, half to myself.

"Well yes, I wish that too Naomi darling," she replied linking her arm with mine, "but there's nothing we can do about that is there?"

She squeezed my arm and sighed, "Look Naomi, James has already told me that you blame yourself for what happened, but no-one else does; least of all JJ. You don't have to hide from us you know?"

"I'm not hiding," I snapped, pulling away from her and getting to my feet; "I just needed some air."

"Naomi darling hiding is exactly what you're doing," Lara said standing, and linking arms again. "You're hiding from JJ and you're hiding from whatever it is Elizabeth is giving you a hard time for. But you need to come in now, JJ is asking for you."

She half dragged me through the corridors toward his room, pulling me ever onward towards the inevitable confrontation with my guilt. To my surprise, as she opened the door, the room was empty, Cook and Effy nowhere to be seen. With a slight push Lara propelled me into the room.

"I'm going to see where the others are with those drinks," she said, fooling no-one. "Naomi, James said he was going to get you a cup of tea is that all right?"

I nodded and shifted uneasily on my feet as she smiled and closed the door, locking me in the room with the LT.

"Sarge, come and sit down," he said as I stood by the door, about as far away from his bed as I could; reluctantly I made my way over and then stopped and stared as he held out his hand.

"Put it there," he said smiling, his hand shaking with the effort.

"Why?" I asked, reaching out to grasp his hand and squeezing gently.

"Third times a charm Sarge and I'm positive that was at least the third time you've saved my life."

"Nearly killed you, you mean," I corrected dropping his hand. "I wasn't paying attention LT; I didn't see the hostiles on the rooftop."

"Neither did I," he said as he shuffled uncomfortably on the bed, "not a comfortable way to lie," he apologised as he pulled himself around.

"Know that feeling," I said awkwardly. "I spent a lot of time in those beds after Gereshk; though they were no-where near as comfy as that one looks though."

"Military beds," he replied with a grin breaking out on his drawn face. Must admit I was never keen on them myself either."

We fell into an uneasy silence, both lost in our thoughts. I wanted to tell him that I was sorry, but I couldn't find the words…seeing him lying there was just a horrible reminder of how lucky I had been, how lucky Emily had been

"So what's been happening Sarge?" the LT said finally, "Effy seems pretty pissed off with you!"

"Long story LT, and not an important one right now to be honest; you've got enough to be doing getting yourself healed up."

"Doctors are doing that Sarge," he replied casually, "quite frankly there is very little else that I can do to help them, unless they tell me to do something of course. Though so far that simple consist of being told to lie here and keep as still as I can to prevent scarring of the tissue near my spine where they operated, not that I want to move a lot you understand, I'm feeling more than a little tender right now and..."

He paused for a second, taking a deep breath, and letting it out slowly.

"Sorry, rambling away again," he said blinking rapidly, "need to work on that."

I looked at him curiously; I'd noticed this little foible of his more and more since those early days with CP. He'd never had it before, not when we served together anyway, and I wondered what had caused this tendency to ramble on and on.

I didn't ask about it though, I knew that there were some things no-one wanted reminding of.

"Anyway," he continued, flexing his fingers in front of his face, "what I was trying to say is that I've got nothing but time right now and I'm willing to listen."

"Nothing to say LT, I'll be fine in time; you know how it is."

"Yeah," he replied sighing, "I know how it is…didn't do me any good though Sarge; I was the same as you after Basra."

I thought about what he meant by that, but his eyes had gone distant; his face strained as if recalling something that he'd rather forget. The question died on my lips; sometimes there were things that you just didn't want to talk about, I knew that better than anyone.

"You mustn't let it mess you up though Sarge," the LT suddenly said, looking up at me, "I nearly lost my Lara because of what happened to me, you shouldn't let it happen to you and Emily."

"Did you nearly get Lara killed LT?" I asked, holding his stare until he looked away. "I fucked up, put you in here, and nearly got her killed. It was my fault and it's all because of me and Emily."

"It is not your fault I'm lying here Sarge, any one of us could have, or should have seen that guy on the roof."

"Were any of you trying to kiss the person next to you?" I replied, cutting to the chase.

"Well no, but I don't see…"

"…I do LT," I interrupted him, "I fucking do. I wasn't concentrating; I wasn't even looking out of the fucking windows. I was more interested in kissing Emily than I was in making sure we were safe; I fucked up LT, I fucked up and you got hurt, I fucked up and people died…again."

I fell silent as he stared at the floor, judging my failure without the need for words. I took a deep breath and climbed to my feet, "I'm sorry LT, you deserved better, you all did."

Three quick steps took me to the doorway, as my hand touched the handle the LT's voice stopped me in my tracks.

"Sarge, it wasn't your fault you know, any one of us could have seen that ambush, and none of us did; you can't blame yourself for something we had no control over. We got hit, for thirty seconds they were better than us, then you stepped in and saved us all; but most of all Sarge you did your job, you saved the package, and that's all that matters."

o+o+o

I was left pondering his words while I waited for the others by the car, and all of the journey back to Cook's. I knew he was right, I had done my job in the end; keeping Emily alive and getting her to safety, but it wasn't enough...hadn't been enough for JJ.

"What we doing for food tonight?" Cook asked from the driver's seat, "I'm thinking that Naomikins here needs to experience one of my barbeques."

"No James," Effy said firmly, "I told you last night no barbequing and no curry's either. Besides it's far too late to buy food and get that stupid great monstrosity of yours ready; I'll sort us something nice, what are you in the mood for Naomi?"

"Don't worry about me," I said absently, staring out of the window. "As soon as you guys are home I'll be on my way."

"Have you got anywhere to stay?" Effy asked turning around, the look in her eyes telling me she knew the answer.

"No, but there'll be a hotel somewhere near here," I replied. "It won't be a problem to find somewhere to stay."

"That's as maybe Naomikins," Cook announced swinging the big old bus around a corner enthusiastically causing me to bounce off the door, "but as you didn't actually sleep in a bed last night it's no effort for us. I still think there's still time for me to fire up that Napoleon you know Eff…"

I was totally forgotten, or more likely ignored as they fell into a friendly bickering. I sat in the back of my car and watched them through mostly closed eyes as they fought. It was interesting to see the levels of familiarity, and trust, in their relationship unfold before me.

"James you will fire up that barbeque up over my dead body…"

"Well…I have to admit I would miss that lovely body of yours, it's always been your best feature babe..."

"Won't be lovely for much longer, I'm going to look like a fucking whale soon thanks to you…."

"You're going to be the most gorgeous whale in the world then Eff…"

"Flattery will not get me to let you use that barbeque James Cook, I told you it needs moving before I'll let you set fire to things again…"

Their bickering continued, all in the name of man's desire to burn the outside of a piece of chicken to the point of inedibility; and yet leave the inside cold and raw. I didn't know why it was like that; Whitey had been exactly the same, never happier than when he was sat in front of a fire with something on the end of a stick, even in the searing heat of an Iraqi summer. Still it amused me to see them act like this; the love they shared was there for all to see.

"Pull in here James," Effy said as we drove past a large M&S store, "I'll get us something for dinner, _you_ can wait here and make sure Naomi doesn't go wandering off."

"Where the fuck does she think I'm going to go?" I muttered as the door slammed behind her and Cook swung around in his seat.

"Well, I don't know blondie," he said with a smile, "perhaps she thinks you've developed a love of shopping since you've been hanging around with Emily."

"Not a chance," I sneered, "shopping is something I do out of necessity, not out of desire."

"Me neither," he said with a wink, "but I've kinda got good at faking it you know?"

"Never been very good at that boss," I replied with a raised eyebrow that got a guffaw from an obviously amused Cook.

"Well from what I've heard kid, faking it is the last thing you and Emily need to do."

I spent a couple of seconds catching flies as my brain processed what he said. "What," and "How," the only coherent words my mouth managed to utter.

"Girl talk kid, Emily talks to Effy and I'm not often banished to the spare room while it happens."

"Yeah, but…you're my boss," I said gaining control over my jaw.

"…and your friend I hope," he interrupted; "and besides, call it revenge for that cheeky fucking message at Fitch Manor that time…I know you were watching us on the camera's Naomikins, so don't pretend you're all comfy up there on that moral high ground."

"I was watching your back…" I protested, sort of telling the truth.

"…and we're trying to watch yours Naomi," he interrupted again, looking at me seriously. "Effy and me just want the best for you ok? Eff's sometimes a bit intense about it, but she means well."

I didn't say anything to that, simply sniffing to indicate my disgust. It was probably true, I mused as he stared at me, but the barely veiled contempt with which she had been treating me told a different story.

"I told you Naomi, you're stuck between a rock and a hard place, Effy likes you; but she likes Emily as well."

"She hardly knows either of us Cook," I objected, "not really, she barely knows me at least."

"That doesn't matter to her," Cook laughed shaking his head, "once my Effykins decides you're worth her time that's it. You should consider yourself very special Naomi, there's not that many people she thinks are worthy; you would not believe how many people she's blanked and walked away from."

"Lucky people," I replied causing Cook's laugh to die in his throat.

"Not really babe," he said finally, after holding my look for a long second; "anything but in fact. Effy's friendship is _the_ most difficult thing in the world to get, which means that once you have it it's the most rewarding thing in the world too, I can't tell you how happy she's made me."

"Is that because of her 'lovely body'?" I snipped, frowning as he raised an eyebrow.

"I didn't think you were paying attention to our little chat mate," he said sadly, "but no, that's not the only thing that makes me happy…though it's hardly a negative point now is it? We've already established her arse is great to look at haven't we?"

I felt my cheeks warm slightly under his amused look, something else that Emily had changed about me.

"I may sound like a sad twat Naomi, but as lovely as my girl is, it's much more than her body that keeps me interested, it's her intelligence, and her friendship and her love." Cook looked at me pointedly, "But then I think you understand that better than most my friend."

"Yeah," I admitted nodding my head, "I understand; but it's not that simple Cook, it's never fucking simple. I told Emily once that it would be complicate, I guess I never understood how complicated it could become."

"Complicated is fun Naomi, trust me I know."

"People getting hurt isn't though boss, Emily getting hurt isn't; the LT getting hurt isn't."

"You still riding that old horse Naomi? Did not talking to Jay get that out of your head? It wasn't your fault Naomi, none of this was your fault."

'_Tell that to my nightmares,'_ I thought to myself, closing my eyes and sitting back in the seat. It seemed that every time I closed my eyes Whitey, McClair and the boys were coming to say hello, and not in a nice way. The accusations were loud and clear, it was my fault, always my fault, and I was doomed to torment because of it.

"Looks like we're done," Cook said as the door opened, "get everything you wanted lil'darlin'"

"Well I have dinner sorted James," Effy said as she slammed the door behind her and Cook started the engine. "But I'm not sure I got everything I wanted in there."

"Well, as long as you got us dinner darlin' it's all good with me," Cook said as we pulled out of the car park and headed for the open road. "I'm starving'"

o+o+o

"Heard from Emily?"

I was helping Effy prepare dinner, sorting out a salad when she asked me the question that made me blink.

"Not since this morning," I replied after a moment's consideration. "Why?" I added suspiciously.

"No reason," she said with the sort of knowing look that made the hairs on my neck stand up.

"What the fuck have you done?" I asked accusingly as she smirked at me.

"_I_ haven't done anything Naomi," she replied smugly, that smirk fixed on her face. I glared at her as I tossed the salad angrily, wondering what she _had_ done. It didn't take me long to find out, not long after we had put the bowls out on the table in their dining room the doorbell rang.

"Emily," I heard Cook call out as he answered the door, "come on in, we're just putting food on the table, why don't you join us, I'm sure there's plenty."

"Thanks," I heard her say as I frowned at Effy, "I'm not staying Andy's in the car waiting for me; I just came to drop something off for Effy."

"Eff!" Cook called out, "you have a visitor."

"I heard James," she called out, ignoring me completely, "come on in Emily."

"Hi Eff," I heard her say as she walked in, the words dying on her lips as our eyes met. She was looking good, more than good in fact, dressed in a dark suit; hair, and makeup looking immaculate. My heart gave a little jump as I saw her, and I tried desperately to stop a smile breaking through my frown.

"Nice to see you Emily," Effy said taking two steps over and wrapping her up in a hug. I could see her brown eyes fixed on me over Emily's shoulder, never blinking as she showed her hurt with a simple look.

"Hey," she said weakly as Effy released her, standing next to her with an hand on her shoulder as they looked at me.

"Hi," I replied awkwardly, "you're looking nice."

I could have kicked myself at the stupid comment; I had been doing my best to avoid her for days, and when I finally got to see her I told her she was looking nice.

"Thanks, it was Nigel's funeral today," she said sadly, cutting me to the core once more. "Mum and I were there representing the company."

I stared down at the carpet, avoiding her look as I remembered the annoying twat that had died as a result of my carelessness. It had been hard enough seeing JJ today, but to be reminded of a death that I'd been responsible for was hard…

It was really fucking hard.

"That must have been tough on you Emily," Effy said, breaking the silence and hugging Emily again. "Are you ok hun?"

"It wasn't easy no," she said with a break in her voice, "but I guess I'm ok, more or less. Look I'm sorry to interrupt your dinner; I just wanted to bring you something."

"Don't worry about that," Effy replied squeezing her shoulders, "why don't you join us?"

"I don't think that's a good idea Eff," she said and I knew that she was looking at me as she spoke; my skin burning under her gaze. "I didn't know that Naomi was here, I wouldn't have come if you'd told me."

I looked up at Effy, cold eyes meeting her cool ones, a question hanging between us; she held my gaze unflinchingly before speaking.

"Well I didn't tell you she was here because she was threatening to run away again; we went to see JJ today and I think it's affected her more than she'll admit."

"Yeah? How are…how is he doing?" she asked looking briefly at me and then quickly turning back to Eff. "I've meant to go and see him but I've been really busy making arrangements for stuff."

"He's doing fine," Effy replied breaking our silent battle and looking at my girl. "He's out of surgery now and complaining to his wife about everything, hopefully he'll make a full recovery in time."

"He's going to be in a wheelchair for the rest of his life though," I interrupted bitterly, wanting there to be no doubt as to the LT's condition.

"That's not certain Naomi," Effy said quickly at Emily's stricken look, "his surgeons said anything is possible. He might make a full recovery now he's been treated properly."

I didn't reply; there wasn't anything else to say. I didn't know if the LT would recover, didn't know if he'd ever walk again; but whatever happened I knew I'd put him there, all because of the girl that stood in front of me.

"Well he's got the best care money can buy thanks to you Emily," Effy continued with a smile. "That's going to help a lot, and he and Lara are very grateful."

"That's nice, but it doesn't really help me," my Emily replied, wiping away a tear. "Doesn't help me forget it wouldn't have happened at all if it wasn't for me."

"You don't know that for sure Emily," Cook said, appearing behind her and slipping an arm around Effy's waist. "For all we know it was a totally random attack, they happen you know? Especially out there, there's nothing to say it was aimed at you."

"Yeah, but we both suspect that wasn't the case don't we James?" Emily said shaking her head, "We both think that the attack was aimed solely at me."

"We don't know anything of the sort Emilo," Cook replied, emphasising that Southern drawl just a little bit more than normal. "Like I said, as far as we know it was just a random attack."

It wasn't though, she was right we all knew it, it was a targeted attack on Emily, they'd just hit the wrong vehicle. If they'd gone for the rear truck rather than the front one, she'd be dead and me along with her.

"So what did you bring me Emily?" Effy asked with a look at Cook that unmistakably meant 'shush'.

"Something for your birthday," Emily replied with a small, tired looking smile, "I left it in the hallway, hang on I'll go get it for you."

Within moments she was back with a neatly wrapped package, the corners as crisp as a rookies bed linen during basic training. I knew exactly what it was, the size and shape taking me back to a happier, less complicated time.

"Nomi thought that you would like this," she said, catching my eye as she held it out, "I know it's not your birthday for a week or so, but I'm not likely to be here to give it to you then so I though I'd bring it now."

"Where are you going?" I heard a voice ask, before realising it was my own.

"I have to go to India again love," Emily replied with a wry smile, "we have to demo some of our wares for the big-wigs, looks like our little trip around the world worked for us; parts of it at least."

"Now now, no business at the table," Eff said, taking her present, and lifting it up, "Can I open it now? I really want to see what you brought me Emily."

With a smile and a nod Emily signalled her approval and, with a ripping of paper, the painting appeared, its covering discarded amongst a squeal of delight. "Emily it's fantastic," Effy exclaimed as the painting was revealed, "did you do this?"

"Yeah," Emily replied with just a hint of embarrassment, "Nomi told me you'd like it for your birthday."

"Like it, I _love_ it," Effy replied, genuine pleasure in her voice. "It's absolutely beautiful, James have you seen this?"

"I have lil'darlin'," Cook replied wrapping his arms around the both of them, "and I have to say it's _the_ most perfect likeness of my baby; it's a beautiful picture Emily."

"Painting," I corrected absently, getting a sad smile from Emily.

"Painting," Cook corrected tilting his head as he examined her work. "You've got a real talent there Emily, I'd have paid good money for a painting like this; Naomikins why didn't you tell me about this? The brownie points I could have won if I'd been the one to hand this over."

"Oh shush James," Effy said shooing him away and hugging Emily again, "I love it, I really do love it; James is right, you have a real talent there Emily, is that why you wouldn't let me see you paint when Naomi and your mum were playing soldiers?"

"Sort of," Emily said, blushing as Effy kissed her on the cheek. "I guess I was inspired."

"So what was the other picture you wouldn't let me see?" Effy asked causing Emily to blush once more; a sidelong glance at me telling everyone what the other painting was.

"Painting," Emily corrected her, "and I'm not saying."

"It's ok Emily, I think we all know," Effy said hugging her again as she blushed as red as her hair. "Are you going to stay for dinner?"

"Thank you but no, I don't think that's a good idea right now," she said glancing at me again.

"Nonsense," Effy replied gesturing at the table, "we've got plenty as you can see, don't let grumpy knickers stop you from spending time with your friends. That way you can tell Naomi and James all about this India trip you have to do."

I tried to avoid the situation, as did Emily, but we found ourselves railroaded by the "Cook's". Effy was presumably attempting to play matchmaker again, and Cook was presumably too stupid to realise what was going on. After a bit of fussing about in the kitchen we were all sat around the table; with a tension that you could have carved along with the joint we were eating.

"This is lovely," Emily said to Eff, gesturing at her plate; "you're a very good cook."

"I'm not a good cook," Effy replied with a smile, "Marks and Spencer's are good cooks, I just put things in the oven for the right amount of time."

"Well it's delicious either way."

"Well isn't this just lovely and awkward," Cook said finally as we continued to eat in silence, "Emily, you were saying something about India. I've not heard anything about it; I assume its new data?"

"It is, we found out this afternoon that we've won the opportunity to bid for a huge contract, we've been working on it for weeks now, I guess it's what caused all of this shit, there are people that don't want us to do business there."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I asked, looking at her for the first time since we sat down.

"I tried," she replied looking at me and then looking down at the table, "you didn't answer."

"You ignored your girlfriend again Naomi," Effy said as I frowned and dug my phone from out of my pocket, "that's not polite."

"…and I think that that's quite enough," I said tossing the phone across the table to her and getting to my feet. "Excuse me."

I left the dead phone behind me and walked into the living room, hearing the murmur of animated conversation behind me. I was about to walk into the hallway when Emily called me back.

"I didn't mean anything Nomi," she said sadly, "I just…"

"I know I'm just sick of Effy trying to interfere."

"I'm _trying_ to help," I heard Effy call out from the dining room before she was shushed by a muffled word from Cook.

"Well perhaps you should stop 'helping' before you fuck everything up," I called out, my teeth grinding in frustration.

"She means well baby," Emily said shaking her head, "she's been really good to me since you decided to…"

"Run away?" I asked frowning, "I said I needed some space Emily, that's all. This isn't easy for me you know?"

"I know, but it's been hard for me too love, I miss you; I really wanted you with me today."

"Don't Emily, please," I said reaching for the door handle, trying to leave.

"I need you Naomi," she replied, more forcefully than I'd heard her speak in ages. "I gave you space because you asked me to, but I'm going to need you for this trip, I'm going to need you with me when I go to India, I need you full stop."

"I can't do it Emily," I replied flatly, looking over her shoulder as Effy and Cook appeared, "you know I can't."

I stood in the doorway watching guiltily as tears began to fall from Emily's eyes, tears that I had put there, tears I could do nothing about. I looked on helplessly as Effy put her arm around her shoulders, only to have it shrugged off angrily.

"Is this it then Nomi?" she said finally, sniffing loudly. "Is this how you think things should end, by you running away again? How many people have you left behind you Naomi? How many broken hearts have you left in your wake?"

"I don't leave broken hearts behind me Emily," I said not meeting her eyes, "I leave corpses."

I could feel a tear escape and run down my cheek as our stalemate continued, before turning and heading for the stairs, planning on grabbing my bag from where it lay and getting the fuck away from here before this got any worse; unfortunately Emily had other ideas.

"That's a fucking excuse Naomi," she called out from the foot of the stairs, following me out. "That's just a shitty fucking excuse because I got close to you and you're scared of it; you're scared of what we have."

She's right, sort of, that is the problem, that's why I can't let her get close. It's my job to keep her safe and I can't do that whilst I'm distracted. I can't do my job and be in love with her, it just won't work.

"It's not an excuse Emily," I told her forcefully, " I messed up and people got hurt, JJ got hurt and you nearly got killed. I can't fucking allow that to happen; I love you too much to see you in my fucking nightmares any more. I don't want to see you dead Emily, I can't get you killed too."

I watched as her face fell, turning away eventually, and running to the spare room. It didn't take me long to grab my things, especially as I hadn't bothered unpacking my things from my bag. I pulled on my coat and threw the bag over my shoulder, tapping my pockets to make sure everything was still there. All set I took a deep breath and opened the door, preparing myself for whatever was to come.

The three of them were waiting for me as I descended the stairs, Emily and Effy stood in matching poses, arms folded; eyes staring at me angrily as I took each step carefully.

"Leaving already?" Effy said as I reached half way, "I'm disappointed in you Naomi."

"I think I've outstayed my welcome," I replied snipply, pausing for a second and readjusting my bag on my back. "It's time I was on my way."

"I'll need you in the office tomorrow Nomi," Emily said as I reached the bottom and picked up my keys from the window ledge where Cook had placed them.

"I'm on holiday," I answered, opening the front door.

"Not any more," she said from behind me, "I need you to help organise the security for the India trip, especially now JJ isn't available to do it."

"I told you Emily," I said signing, "I can't do that…"

"…because you don't want to see me hurt, you said." Emily interrupted angrily. "Well I don't care about that; I want you at the office tomorrow morning Naomi, you still work for me in case you've forgotten."

"I work for Cook," I said nodding in his direction, ignoring the slight shake of the head that he gave me and continuing to push.

"Cook works for me Naomi, my company has a contract with Close Protection and one clause in that contract is that you're responsible for my security."

"Thought of everything haven't you," I replied, my anger bubbling just underneath the surface at her smug look. It reminded me of the Emily Fitch I'd met on my first day at Fitch Manor, the spoilt little daddies' girl that had angered and interested me at the same time.

"I think so," she replied, "I'll see you tomorrow, we've a lot to do; we fly out on Wednesday."

"Just one thing you haven't considered," I said jingling the car keys in my hand before throwing them to a surprised looking James Cook. "It's been great boss," I said with a sad smile, "I quit."

And with that, I walked away.


	70. The Cruelties of Fate

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness and a really, really bad temper

**Chapter 70 – The Cruelties of Fate**

"_By the left….quick, MARCH! Left…Right…Left…Right. Come on ladies you can do better than that, put some effort in or I will have you marching squares day and fucking night until your feet bleed."_

The voice of my old Sergeant during basic training echoed through my head as I quick marched away from the house. I didn't have a clue where I was going, twisting and turning through the streets of the estate, doing my best to avoid any pursuit that may come.

The evening sun was still warm on my face as I marched along, but I knew it would be setting soon and I needed to find myself somewhere to stay. Not for the first time on this trip was I glad of the money that I had in my bank account, knowing that it would see me clear until I sorted something out.

I was unemployed again; with nowhere to go and no-one to turn to…fuck my life.

After about ten minutes of walking I slowed my pace, convinced that I was now safe. I'd found my way to a main road and was following signs towards the nearest town, hoping there'd be a station, or a bus or something I could use to get back into London. I didn't know what I would do with myself when I got there, but working for CP had given me an idea, there's always a need for security contractors in the old war zones, and there are always companies looking for people that needed the cash and weren't bothered about the danger.

First though, I had to get where the work was and that meant getting back into London, and then I'd just have to see what happened.

The sun was setting when I finally made it to what passed for a railway station in this part of the world, little more than a concrete platform with a glass shelter that stank of spilt beer and urine. Fortunately the skies were clear and the evening was still warm so I opted to sit on one of the exposed benches and wait for the next train.

I heard footsteps coming down the steps from the ticket house, saw a lone figure in a hoodie walk over to a nearby bench and sit down; far enough away that I had no reason to be concerned about his presence. I was slightly more annoyed when I heard the click of a lighter and smelt the acrid aroma of cheap cigar smoke drifting down the platform.

"You can't smoke here," I shouted down to the figure, thinking that at the very worst a fist fight might be a good way to sort out my mood.

"Well you and I both know that's a stupid rule blondie," a familiar drawl replied causing me to look again at the hooded figure.

"What the fuck are you doing here Cook?" I said getting to my feet as he tossed his cigar onto the tracks and pulled the hood off his head.

"Came to see if you were ok my friend," he said with a grin, "you did leave our place in a bit of a hurry after all."

"I'm fine Cook," I said, "or at least I will be when this fucking train comes and I can get into town."

"Be waiting a long time then kid," he said getting up and walking towards me, "it's Sunday and there's no trains into London until the morning; did you not read the notice up there? There's works on the line."

"Looks like I'll need to find somewhere to stay here then," I said throwing my bag over my shoulder once more, walking past him and heading for the steps.

"Naomi," Cook called after me, "its ok you know, it's just me here; you don't have to head for the hills again."

"Not about heading for the hills Cook," I said turning back to face him, "I'm heading for a hotel. All I want to do is find somewhere to stay so I don't end up sleeping under a bench again."

"You _have_ somewhere to stay kiddo, all you've got to do is climb into your car and let me drive you back to mine."

"I don't think that's a good idea Cook," I said shaking off the hand that he placed on my shoulder. "I don't work for you any more, I think it's time I had some space from certain people."

"You think I'm going to let one of my best staff members go without a fight because of my girl being a prick Naomikins?" Cook said with a smile, "Not a hope babe, besides you have a notice period to work off don't you? Look, I'm fucking starving; thanks to you running off I didn't get to finish my dinner. Why don't we go and grab a bite to eat and talk this over. If I can't change your mind I'll drive you to London myself, I'll even put you up in the company apartment overnight if you can't find a place to stay."

"No tricks?" I asked pausing, my hand on the cold metal handrail.

"No tricks my friend."

"No Emily?" I continued suspiciously.

"No Emily, and no Effy either," Cook said shaking his head "she's gone back to London with Emily."

"Oh," I replied simply, "is Ems ok?"

"Bit upset I think," he said, his eyes searching mine for a reaction; squinting slightly as I kept my best 'poker face' in place. "So, babe, you going to let me buy you dinner and get you back to my place?"

"You can buy me dinner Cook," I replied smiling despite myself, "but I'm warning you; if you call me babe once more I'll break your ankles and leave you to walk home."

"Nice, I love you too kiddo," he replied with a grin and an arm around my shoulder. "Come on, let's go find out if this place has anything more interesting than the KFC or my favourite curry-house; then you can tell me why you just did that, and I can tell you, once again, why you're a twat."

"No drinking though Cook," I said as he led me up the stairs towards the street," I'm going back to being teetotal."

"Can't take the hangovers?" he asked giving my shoulders a squeeze and steering me towards the exit.

"Something like that yeah," I said, not wanting to say that I'd actually hated everything about the drinking session; not the conversation per se, but the whole knocking back drinks until I had numbed myself from the shit I was going through. Once before it had been pretty much the done thing, but there had been a lot of water under the bridge since then.

o+o+o

_Summer 2006 – Bidborough, Kent_

"_What the fuck is wrong with your face Snowy? You look like you've been shot in the arse."_

"_What do you think?" I replied, frowning at the grinning face of Paul White. "What's always the problem at these fucking things?"_

"_Her ladyship and her mates being wankers again mate?" he asked sitting down onto the bench seat next to me as I nodded. "What they said this time?" he asked causing me to shrug in response; what _hadn't_ they said was more to the point. _

_You want to get pissed Snowy?" Paul asked shoving a cold beer into my hand; a cold beer I accepted gratefully with a nod. Getting pissed right now seemed like a good idea, getting pissed seemed like a very good idea indeed._

_We were sat at the bottom of the long garden at Amy's parent's house in the country, dragged along to one of the inevitable family garden parties. I hated this kind of event, everyone 'getting together' and 'catching up'. It was a family and friend's kind of deal, and they were one of the most awkward, uncomfortable and hateful things I'd ever had to attend. Amy's parents didn't exactly love me and her friends thought I was little more than scum._

_The only small mercy I has was that Amy 'graciously' allowed me to bring one of _my_ 'couple' friends along; and of course I always invited Whitey and Gill. Whitey because he could keep me sane, and Gill to talk sense to us when we planned to educate the snobs about how good the NHS actually was; ideally with a practical demonstration of the skills of A&E staff had with broken noses and busted faces._

_She was really good at it as well, Gill was; in a very short time she'd become a world renowned expert on calming the two of us down. She was so good at dealing with people that out of the three of us she was the only one that 'fitted in', though I was still sure Amy's mates saw her as little more than a trained monkey._

_It would be an understatement to say that I hated the fucking lot of them; their over privileged ways, share portfolios, careers in 'marketing', 'City' jobs, or more often than not spending their days just sponging off mummy and daddy and living the high life. Not one of the bastards had ever done a real days work in their lives, Amy included; and yet still they looked down at me, Paul, and Gill for having real jobs, real jobs that mattered, real jobs that meant something to us._

"_Shouldn't let them get to you Snowy," Paul said nudging my drinking arm and gesturing that I wasn't keeping up in his usual way. "You know the lot of them aren't worth the contents of a bucket of shit."_

"_Officer's shit?" I said with the beginnings of a smile on my face._

"_You fucking know it Snowy," he laughed noisily, clinking our cans together dramatically; spilling beer as we got disapproving looks from some of the nearby guests. "And you know there isn't much in the world worth less than officer's shit."_

"_Just their brains," I said completing our little ritual, "just their brains."_

"_Amen my sister," Whitey agreed, taking a long pull from the can and sighing happily, "A-fucking-men." _

"_Embarrassing us again you two?" Gill said, appearing behind Paul and draping her arms over his shoulders, "I really can't take either of you anywhere."_

_We chuckled at her attempts at a 'posh' voice, the juxtaposition between the voice, and her stealing my beer and guzzling it amusing the both of us._

"_You, can take me anywhere lover," Whitey leered turning his head to stare down the front of her sun dress._

"_Eyes front soldier," Gill said with a laugh, pushing his cheek with the beer can, "and the same goes for you Naomi Campbell."_

"_I was looking for my beer," I lied easily, winking at her; it was a game we played together, her teasing me for looking at her body whether I had been or not. It was something we'd easily slipped into, like a pair of broken in boots._

"_Well unlike you Naomi," she replied thrusting my now empty can back into my hand, "I'm too ladylike to store my drinks in my cleavage so there's no need to stare down there."_

"_Oh fuck off," I joked as she stood up and walked around the bench to flop on Paul's lap, "you wish you have cleavage Gill, you skinny little thing…and where's the rest of my drink gone? I've only had one sip out of it."_

"_It was a reward for convincing Amy to keep that dickhead 'Charles' away from you both for the afternoon," she replied with a fake pout at my teasing._

"_What? You want rewarding for spoiling our fun," Whitey said passing his can to me to take a slug from, "I was looking forward to chatting with him again today."_

"_Paul love, last time you chatted with him you threatened to pull out his intestines and drag him through the streets by them."_

"_Exactly," I said swallowing the warm beer quickly and passing it back._

"_You threatened to do a lot worse as I remember Snowy," Paul said with a wink._

"_You certainly did," Gill added, taking the beer from Paul's hand, sipping and passing it back to me. "I seem to recall you were in the doghouse for a couple of weeks."_

"_Doghouse? Barracks more like," Whitey laughed. He was right too, after the last event at Christmas Amy had not been pleased with me, and I'd fucked off back to my place on base to avoid the endless arguing. It had only been the three month secondment to the cloak and dagger brigade in Northern Ireland that had shut her up; apparently truly apologetic and frantic at my enforced lack of contact._

_Still, the sex had been good when I finally did get back._

"_We're out of beer," I said, changing the subject quickly, "and I'm developing a proper thirst here, come on let's go raid the fridge."_

_A couple of hours later found the three of us wandering through the streets in search of an off licence, the small quantity of real drink that had been bought for the party already consumed. It had been a deliberate slight too, I'd decided; the fridge was full of wine and champagne and a huge jug of fucking Pimms, just nothing for the 'plebs' to drink. So, with usual aplomb, we'd filched a bottles of the most expensive bubbly we could see and snuck off, Amy's face as she saw me leave telling me that I was in trouble again. _

_Frankly I didn't give a shit, from the moment I'd pulled up on that stupid gravel drive outside the house she'd barely spoken to me, apart from to try and show me off again; humiliating and offending me and _my_ guests with comment after unthinking comment._

_So the three of us were walking, arm in arm, through the quaint village that was Bidborough; swapping jokes, stories, and swigs from the stolen booze as we did so, probably annoying the fuck out of the residents. We weren't being loud, or obnoxious…we were just having fun; and the po-faced fuckers that looked out at us from behind net curtains looked like they hadn't seen fun since the war. Not our war though, not the one Whitey and I had lived through._

"_This town is rubbish," a more than tipsy Gill said as we searched for somewhere, anywhere that could sell us supplies that we could take back to get us through the night._

"_Damn right baby girl," Whitey agreed draining the last dregs from the bottle, "and this stuff is disgusting…how on earth can those tossers drink this shit for fun?"_

"_Acquired taste mate," I replied nudging him with my shoulder sending him reeling, "like 'B' rations."_

_Whitey laughed at that, the 'B' ration box being our least favourite of the field food we were given. "No fucking way mate," he said grabbing hold of Gill to stop his drunken ass falling to the kerb, "I'd rather eat tinned old men's feet for the rest of my life than drink that crap."_

"_You're just a philistine Paul White," Gill said, taking the bottle from his fingers before he dropped it. "A good champagne is a pleasure to drink, just not straight from the bottle; and what the hell is old men's feet?"_

"_Irish Stew," we both said, laughing as we did so._

"_What's wrong with Irish Stew?" Gill asked puzzled, "It's one of my favourites."_

"_Not the shit in our rat packs love, that stuff is fucking rank," Whitey expanded, "Snowy and I give it away rather than carry it; we tell people it's made from old men's feet because…"_

"_That's what it tastes like, yes. I get the picture Paul," Gill said smiling at us both. I'm drunk not stupid, now is that a garage I see up there? Perhaps they will sell beer."_

"_Fuck the garage," I said, spotting something far more interesting on the other side of the road. "Lance-Corporal White, is that what I think it is on the horizon?"_

"_I do believe it is Corporal Campbell," he said peering uncertainly into the near distance. "May I recommend that we recce it for use as a possible staging area?"_

"_Sounds like a good plan soldier," I said slapping him on the shoulder and putting on my very best Sandhurst Officers voice. "Right chaps, at my command the squad will reconnoitre the drinking establishment ahead, which we will call Objective Alpha, we will enter Objective Alpha and proceed immediately to the bar, furthermore known as Objective Beta. There we will commence with the overall mission priority, that of getting as pissed as arseholes and forgetting about those snooty fuckers back at the house."_

"_Yes Ma'am," Whitey said, standing to attention and saluting with a smile. "What are your orders then Ma'am."_

"_Then White, we will attempt to re-supply at the garage, Objective Charlie, at which time we will return to the staging area and continue drinking and if any of those stuffy pricks dares breathe a word to me I will personally disembowel them with a plastic spoon…is that clear?"_

"_As crystal Ma'am," Paul said, applauding generously as Gill merely sighed. "Permission to race you for it Ma'am? Last one to the bar buys the first round?"_

"_You're fucking on," I replied already moving, Whitey a short step behind me._

"_Oh fuck off," I heard Gill protest as we ran up the street towards the Hare and Hounds , "that's not fair, some of us have got bloody heels on."_

_o+o+o_

_A few, fun filled hours later we were back at the party, lying around on the grass with our supplies, smoking and talking quietly. If anyone, Amy included, had missed us while we were gone it didn't show; our arrival back on the scene being greeted with some disdainful looks._

"_Easy Naomi," Gill told me as one of my least favourite of Amy's 'girl-friends' looked at me in disgust as I drank from a small bottle of Jack I'd bought; paying through the nose at the tiny garage for it. "Don't do anything stupid, she's really not worth it."_

"_Besides that, she'd probably be able to kick your ass in the condition you're in mate," Whitey added, causing me to aim a kick in his direction, missing and probably proving his point._

"_I'm not that drunk White," I slurred, taking another swig and pointing at him unsteadily, "well perhaps just a little bit."_

"_More than just a little bit," I heard from behind me, and I leaned back onto the grass to see Amy towering over me, frowning away as usual._

"_Yeah well, fuck all else to us do here was there?" I replied snippily, feeling Gills restraining arm on mine, fingers squeezing gently in a silent call for me to calm down. _

"_You could have mingled," she said accusingly, "you could have at least tried to get along with my friends."_

"_Been there, tried that," I said looking away and staring back up at the evening sky, "didn't go too well remember?"_

"_You never try Naomi," Amy hissed, presumably trying to keep our domestic out of the hearing of her 'friends', "you just don't like them."_

"_That's not true and you know it Amy," Gill interrupted before I lost it completely, "your friends have made it very clear that they don't like any of us, you know they have. They don't think we're fit to mingle with them, we don't drive flash cars and go skiing in the winter and on cruises in the summer. We don't have huge pay checks to be flash with; to be honest we don't really have anything in common with them at all, except you."_

"_Isn't that enough?" Amy asked, staring down at me._

"_Not when all they want to do is sneer and belittle what I do," I replied closing my eyes, "not when you just join in with them."_

"_That's not true at all," she snapped in reply, "you're just drunk."_

"_Well she may well be drunk, but she's not lying," Paul said quietly, his own voice sounding worse for wear. "Did Snowy tell you what your mate Caroline over there called her earlier?"_

"_Don't Whitey," I said quickly, not wanting what I'd told them in the bar to come out._

"_No Snowy, it's time she understood," he said firmly, getting to his feet unsteadily._

"…_and for once I agree with him," Gill said nodding, "I think it's about time you understood what Naomi goes through Amy."_

"_Your mate Caroline called your girlfriend a murderer Amy," Paul said folding his arms angrily, "called her a fucking child killer; all because she does her duty with pride and honour…something these freeloading parasites wouldn't understand."_

"_Leave it mate," I said, trying to mediate as Amy stood and glared at him, "it doesn't matter."_

"_It does matter Snowy," he said holding out his hand to Gill and lifting her to her feet. "It matters to me, matters a fucking lot. Come on love, there's rooms at that pub we found; I'd say we'd be better off staying there tonight."_

"_Well go on then," Amy said to me as they walked away, "go off with your friends then."_

"_Are you going back to yours?" I said getting uncertainly to my feet, bottle gripped tightly._

"_Of course I am, it would be rude of me to ignore them, mummy put a lot of effort into this party."_

"_Well ok then," I said turning to follow the guys, "see you tomorrow Ayms."_

"_Naomi, don't go," she called after me, changing her mood in an instant; her whining voice cutting through me. "Stay, please, for me?"_

"_You made your decision Ayms," I said turning and waving goodbye with my bottle, "Have fun!"_

"_Naomi…" she called out as I walked through the tiny wooden gate at the bottom of the garden, I didn't stop…but then, at times like these, I never did._

o+o+o

"Well, I probably shouldn't say this," Cook said pushing away his plate and reaching for his pint, "but that was probably better than Effy's roast. Was it just me or was it just a little bit overdone?"

"Didn't notice," I said, pushing the peas around on my plate with a fork, barely touching the steak and chips I'd ordered.

"…and as for quitting mate, don't you think that was a bit overdone too?"

"Seemed like the only way," I replied, stabbing my fork into a vinegar soaked chip and eating it unenthusiastically.

"The only way to do what kiddo, drive Emily away?"

I glanced up at him, trying to see if there was any malice in his accusatory words, I couldn't see anything in his eyes though; my investigators instincts telling me it was a genuine question.

"Yeah," I admitted finally, stabbing at one more soggy chip, causing the woman at the table next to jump at the loud click as the fork hit the plate.

"Well hell blondie there are easier ways of solving problems you know?" Like talking about it for example?"

"I tried that Cook," I said pushing away my plate in disgust, "she gave me an ultimatum remember?"

"That she did," he said sadly, "I had a few words to say about that after you left."

"Yeah?" I asked unenthusiastically.

"Yeah," he replied, "I did. Can't think what she hoped to achieve doing that; said she wanted to get you to face up to things, that she wants you to be with her again."

"Wants me to get her killed?"

"Well no," he replied shaking his head, "but then as there's only one person in the world that thinks that's likely Naomikins; that was always a long shot."

"We've been here before Cook," I told him.

"Yeah, we have, haven't we," he answered sadly

Time ticked on and soon he'd convinced me to head back to his, and at least spend the night in a bed rather than under a bench as I'd threatened. The house was a silent as the grave when we pulled up and I breathed a sigh of relief that I wasn't being ambushed again.

"Home mate," Cook said expansively as he climbed down from the X5, "time to hit the hay."

"Yeah," I said yawning and locking the car, smiling as Cook weaved his way to his front door and struggled with the key. I'd thought he was quite the drinker when we were in the US, but he seemed to be quite worse for wear; unless of course it was all part of his act. 'Drunk' Cook didn't equate to 'work' Cook in my messed up little head and I'd found it surprisingly easy to talk to him again, despite not touching a drop.

"Cheer up blondie," he said as we finally got in, hanging up jackets on the hooks in the hallway, "things will look different in the morning. We'll go into the office and sort stuff out; it'll be fine, trust Cookie."

"If you say so boss," I told him with a shrug, "night."

"Sleep well Naomi," he said as he opened the door to, what I assumed was his bedroom.

"I won't."

o+o+o

After another disturbed sleep I was driving into London, with a dozing Cook in the passenger seat, still a little worse for wear after two days drinking. Traffic was as good as ever for a sunny Monday morning, that is to say jammed solid. As I crept my way through the streets towards the office, I was thankful that I wasn't heading for Fitch Industries; spared that privilege by accompanying Cook to CP instead.

Over a light breakfast we'd discussed the plan for the day's ahead, and it was made clear that I wasn't going to be allowed to resign, not immediately anyway. As Cook put it, _"we have a shit load of work ahead of us blondie, and not enough time to sort it out in…I'm fucked if I'm letting you go." _

As a, sort of, compromise Cook agreed that I wouldn't be doing field duties for the Fitch's for a while, but I would be acting in my grander role of liaison for the Fitch family's security. I was also roped into offering advice to him and his team on the actual event, though I was trying to avoid that at all costs.

The only thing I had to do as part of this 'deal' was continue with my sessions with Joanna. I'd mutely agreed, but if I was honest I'd made no promises. I had no real desire to spend my money on treatment, and given the circumstances it didn't seem fair to allow Jenna to keep on supporting me.

So I was now an office wallah, _exactly_ the sort of role I didn't want to have on leaving the Army. I really didn't know what to do with myself, sat in the LT's office, I was supposed to be considering the logistics for Emily's trip out to India; but without any raw data I was simply guessing. Eschewing the computer that was in front of me and rapping my pencil against some good old fashioned paper I wrote down a long list of things I needed to know, and needed to know _ASAP_.

"Where we at Naomi?" Cook said mid-morning appearing at the door with a vexed look on his face.

"Nowhere boss," I replied honestly, "I've got a long list of things I need, and a short list of things I have."

"Well hopefully that's going to get a bit easier my friend, follow me; we've got a briefing in the conference room in five, just time to grab a coffee…I think I need it."

"You drink too much Boss," I told him grabbing my things and labouring out of the chair. "Especially on a school night."

"JJ tells me the same thing sometimes kid," he said waving a hand dismissively, "Effy too; now hustle, if I don't get another coffee in my system pronto I'm liable to fall asleep in this meeting."

"I certainly hope not James," a familiar voice said causing him to turn around, "I didn't need to peer out through the door to know how it was, I'd recognise that voice anywhere.

"Mrs F," he said with a broad smile, vanishing from my sight for a second, "well if you're going to be present ma'am there's no way I could ever fall asleep."

"You're a smooth talking devil James Cook; now, where's my favourite employee?"

"She's about to get me a much needed coffee Jenna," he said leaning back through the door and winking, "white with one sugar…what about you?"

He laughed at my raised eyebrow and held up a hand, "ok, ok…so it looks like I'm getting the coffees in then; come on through Jenna, it's about time I got to play host for you."

"Thank you James," Jenna said pausing in the doorway and waving at me. "Naomi, how are you my dear?"

"Had better weeks Mrs F," I said causing her to nod.

"So I've heard," she replied, "are you ok though?"

"Good enough," I said shrugging and nodding to the side, "shall we?"

"I think we shall," she said with a smile that surprised me, "but I think you and I should have a catch up after this…lunch perhaps? My treat."

"I'm not sure I can spare the time Mrs F," I said looking down at my pad filled with notes. "I've got a lot to do."

"I think we'll make some time Naomi," Jenna replied with a tilt of her head. "I think we could do with a little chat don't you?"

"If you say so Mrs Fitch," I said formally, stepping out into the hallway.

"Oh don't be like that Naomi dear," she answered linking her arm in mine and pulling at me. "Now where is that boy James with my coffee?"

Three hours later I wished that I had an intravenous drip feeding me coffee; I was bored fucking stupid sitting in one of the plush leather chairs listening to James and Jenna discussing the details of the mission. It was actually a pretty simple affair, Emily and a small sales team were heading to a military exercise in Northern India, taking along the standard weapons and ammunition they were hoping to sell in bulk to the Indian National Forces. Added to that was a small technical team who were they to demonstrate some of Fitch Industries other wares, including some pretty fancy sounding missile launchers.

My contribution to the conversation so far had been to suggest that we airlift the munitions directly from the suppliers if time was as tight as it seemed, and a quick phone call from Jenna sorted that. Other than that I'd been silent, what questions I had answered as the discussions progressed. Cook was proving to be a sharp operator, and there was only one thing I disagreed with him on.

"I think there should be another vehicle on the journeys boss," I'd ventured, "as a decoy at least. I'm not sure three is enough."

"Three will be fine Naomi," Cook said shaking his head, "there's not that many in the party and they'll be in the midst of a military escort there and back; let's not make them a bigger target than we need to."

"I still…" I started, before catching a look from him that told me to mind my own business. Chastened I went back to my thoughts, planning the trip from London to India and back for the team. It didn't exactly take me long, after all a trip to Heathrow to get on a flight wasn't the most complicated thing in the world, and I'd planned far more difficult events in my time.

"Well Emily will be in the office this afternoon if you need anything else James," Jenna said at the end of the meeting. "Just give her or Bonnie a call; now can you spare Naomi here for a while, because I'd like to take her for a spot of lunch?"

"That's ok with me Mrs F," Cook said with a knowing smile, take all the time you need."

Half an hour later we were sat in a small restaurant not far from the office, ordering salads and drinks and sitting awkwardly opposite each other, neither of us seemingly willing to face the elephant that was sitting at the table with us.

"So how are you feeling Naomi?" Jenna said, skirting around the edges of what I knew she wanted to discuss.

"You already asked me that Jenna," I said looking at the table, "remember? As I said, I've had better days."

"Yes, you do look exhausted; are the nightmares back Naomi," she said looking at me carefully, "tell me the truth now?"

"Yeah," I told her, refusing to raise my eyes to the look that was burning into me.

"Worse than before?"

"Yeah."

The word hung between us for a second before she reached out and placed her hand on mine.

"That's not good Naomi dear, can I ask why that is?"

"You know why Jenna," I told her, feeling like a ten year old once more; trying to hide my emotions and the truth from her.

"Emily," she replied simply, allowing the name to hang between us for a few seconds before…

"She's told me what's happened of course," she continued, pausing and smiling as the waiter brought us our drinks. "I was a little surprised to see you there today I must say, Emily said you resigned last night and walked away without a word."

"Mmm," I replied eloquently, hiding behind a large cup of tea.

"So what happened Naomi, why are you still at work, did you change your mind?"

"Cook made me stay on," I said taking a deep breath and letting it out. "Told me I couldn't quit that easily, that I needed to put it in writing and work my notice."

"Clever boy," she muttered with a tilt of her head and a wry smile, "I take it he's forcing you to work on Emily's little trip then?"

"Sort of, "I answered honestly, "I'm on logistics; I don't want anything to do with the field work."

"Because you don't want to put Emily at risk of any more of your mistakes?" she asked bluntly. I thought for a second before replying honestly.

"Pretty much yes."

Jenna sighed and looked at me disappointedly. "Don't," I said quickly, "don't say it."

"Well if you already know what I was going to say, I see no point in wasting my breath then dear," she said with a grin, "now have you spoken to Joanna recently about the return of these nightmares?"

"Not since the other day," I confessed. "I gave her a ring while I was in Cheltenham."

"And?"

"And I said I'd go and see her soon; James made me promise the same thing."

"Well that's good then, have you made an appointment yet?" Jenna pressed, sipping at her glass of white wine.

"I've not had chance Jenna," I said maintaining the excuse I'd given to Cook, "I've been away, then I was at Cook's and then you know what happened yesterday."

"What about today? Did you call her this morning?"

"Been a bit busy Jenna, there's a lot of work involved in organising things."

She eyed me suspiciously as our food arrived, probably knowing, as well as I did, that my mornings work had hardly been demanding. We chatted idly over food, the conversation light and kept far away from work, or her daughter. I knew the time was coming, her motives clear, but for now at least it was pleasant.

"So Naomi, what are your plans?" she asked finally, pushing away her plate and filling her glass with water from the carafe in front of us.

"Well," I replied considering my words carefully. "I might look for a private contract in Afghanistan or Iraq or somewhere, apparently they're always looking for new blood with combat experience."

"So you still plan to leave Close Protection then," she said frowning.

"I guess I'll have to see what Cook has planned for me, if anything," I answered honestly. "I'm not cut out to be a desk monkey, that's why I left the army in the first place."

"All this because of Emily Naomi? Isn't that just a little bit silly?"

"Emily was the only thing that got me this job Jenna; it was her that Cook had in mind when he employed me, I was the carrot on the end of the stick to dangle in front of Rob."

"You think I don't know that?" she asked with a smile. "James is a very clever boy, though he did tell me that Jeremiah had earmarked you as an employee for your talent long before they thought of us."

"Yeah? Well perhaps I have a future there then," I said shrugging, "who knows?"

"But not with Emily," she said, finally getting to the point.

"I don't think so Jenna," I said taking a sip from my drink. "Not while there's still a threat against her."

"To use one of your lines, do you mean personally or professionally there?"

I shrugged again, "I don't know if there's a difference any more Jenna, I think that line became blurred a long time ago."

"This is difficult for her Naomi," she said looking at me seriously, "she fell for you very hard you know. She doesn't really understand why you're so scared by all of this, but she's trying to be strong."

"It's hard for me too Jenna," I confessed staring over her shoulder to the people walking by on the other side of the window, their lives blissfully unencumbered by death threats and attacks. "I don't like this either, but I'll do anything to keep her safe, even stay away from her."

"You do still love my daughter don't you?" Jenna asked suddenly.

"I do," I replied nodding, "I really do, and that's the problem for me; when I'm with her I'm thinking about her, not thinking about the job. That's what caused the mistake in Baghdad, it really was only blind luck that we got out alive."

"Blind luck and a fair bit of skill from you the way Emily tells it dear."

"We can't rely on luck Jenna," I said, repeating a line that 'Grouch' Langdon had told me back in Iraq a long time ago. "Luck isn't enough, and it has a habit of disappearing when you think you need it the most. Planning, focus and concentration, that's what's important; and if you have luck on your side all the better."

"That sounds like a rehearsed speech dear," she said tilting her head quizzically, reminding me of the birds that used to flock around the rubbish bins in Kandahar. "How many times have you told yourself that over the last few days I wonder?"

I smiled wryly, "I've told it to a few people over the years Jenna, but not myself. It was something my old Sergeant used to say; last time I gave that speech it was in Afghanistan, a couple of weeks before my best friend was killed."

Jenna didn't reply, simply eyed me shrewdly. "Do you know Emily talked to me about leaving the company last week?" she said finally; changing the subject and shocking me a little.

"No," I said shaking my head, "we haven't really talked much recently."

"She told me that too; she also told me that she made a stupid mistake last night that she regrets a lot."

I raised an eyebrow at her words and waited for her to continue.

"She asked my advice when things started to get rocky between you two Naomi, when you got back from Baghdad. I was the one that told her to give you some space if you needed it; that you would sort yourself out and come back stronger. Last night she decided she couldn't wait for you to do that and tried to force you to come back. She was most upset about your reaction, and apparently James told her a few home truths."

"Like?"

"Well apparently he compared you to a wounded animal dear, and said Emily was stupid to try and corner you."

"Nice," I said shaking my head at the analogy.

"Accurate though, from the sounds of things; she's been trying to call you, you know? She says you haven't been answering."

"Effy has my phone," I said with yet one more shrug of my shoulders, "or at least she did have it. I left it at Cook's when I walked out, didn't remember to pick it up this morning."

"Well I think she would want me to beg you to call her Naomi, she really wants to apologise to you, see if she can make things right and convince you to change your mind."

"She can't, not about the trip anyway," I said getting to my feet and reaching into my pocket, tossing a few notes onto the table in front of me to cover my share of the meal. "Thanks for inviting me to lunch Jenna, I'll be in touch."

"Will you Naomi?" she called after me as I walked back to the office, my symbolic gesture presumably understood. "

I simply waved in response.

o+o+o

Monday night found me sitting in front of the television set, back in the apartment where my life had started again. Cook had handed me the keys as the end of our final briefing, the plans for the following days finalised over coffee and laughs; laughs I didn't join in with.

"Here Naomi, as promised," he said as he slid the keys across the table to me after the rest of the field team left. "You can thank me later, now go and get some sleep; you look like you need it."

"I'm fine boss," I said pocketing the keys gratefully; "I want to go over things again, just to make sure."

"Sure of what Naomikins? Your side of the mission is done and dusted, by lunchtime tomorrow they'll be in the air and then your work is done."

"I'm still not happy about the transport arrangements boss," I said with a frown, "I still think we're at least a vehicle light, especially for the demonstrations."

"They'll be fine," he replied shaking his head, "the team have run the numbers kiddo, it all works out."

"My gut tells me otherwise boss," I said as he got up from the chair, "and over the years I've learnt to trust it."

"I'll take it under advisement," he said clapping me on the shoulder as he passed. "Now my young lady is waiting downstairs to take me home, you have a good night Naomi."

"You too boss," I replied getting a snort in reply.

"Well I think I might be in for a telling off or two on the way my friend, but hey…the making up afterwards is always worth it."

"Too much information boss," I called out to his retreating back, "too much information!"

His laughter rang out around the corridor, and with that my working day was done.

The apartment felt empty as I made myself at home; what had once felt like abject luxury after the streets, felt like loneliness as I tramped around with no-one to talk to. I'd ordered a pizza from the rack of menus, still stacked neatly in a draw where I'd left them. To all intents and purposes the place looked like no-one had been here since the last time I stayed, but I knew that wasn't true; the fresh milk in the fridge a testament to someone preparing the place for my visit.

I knew who it had been as well, my phone lying on the countertop, the charging cable plugged into the wall. I picked it up and flicked the slide controller to unlock it, blinking in surprise as the notes 'App' displayed rather than the home screen. On it was a simple message, four words and a letter that told me, without a shadow of a doubt, whom it had been playing with my phone.

'_Sorry, call her…please x'_

I'd merely snorted and deleted the note, dialling the wonderfully named 'Salsa Verde Pizzeria' for my dinner instead.

By the time nine o'clock crawled around though I was feeling pretty much like a spare wheel. For someone that had thrived on their own company for so long, I found that I actually hated being alone. Toying with my phone I allowed my thumb to hover over Emily's number before giving in and pressing it, the call being picked up before the second ring had ended.

"Nomi is that you?"

"Hi," I answered finally, after leaving a long pause.

"It is you," Emily practically sobbed down the phone at me, "Babe I'm so glad you rang, I've been calling you for hours trying to say I'm sorry."

"Effy had my phone, I left it at hers last night."

"I heard; she rang me about an hour ago and said she'd left it at the apartment. Is…is that where you are now?"

"Not quite," I lied in case she decided to come over, "I'm out at the moment."

"Oh," Emily replied sounding a bit dismayed as if that had been her thought too, "where are you then?"

"Don't really know," I said, stretching out on the sofa, "just went for a drive."

"Well I'm glad you called honey," she said after a slight intake of breath.

"Your mother asked me to, and Effy left me a message asking me to as well."

"I asked them to Nomi, I wanted to talk to you, wanted to say that I really am sorry about being a bitch last night, I shouldn't have said what I did."

I heard her take another breath before continuing. "James and mum weren't very happy with me, gave me a hard time about what I did, and I totally deserved it. It was unfair of me to try and force you to do something you don't want to. I don't want you to quit your job Naomi; please, won't you reconsider?"

"Cook hasn't let me quit yet," I said softly, "technically I'm still working for him."

"Does that mean…" she asked expectantly, before fading out, the rest of her question unasked as if she was scared to voice it.

"No Emily," I said flatly, and I could feel here deflate at the other end of the line. "I'm not coming to India; I've not even been involved in the planning for that part of the trip. I'm not risking you with my fuck ups again."

"I would rather your fuck ups than most peoples good work baby, I really would."

"It's better this way Ems," I told her, "we both know it…look I need to get going if I'm going to get home before midnight; but do me a favour, do as the team tell you and stay safe this week."

"I will babe, I'll stay safe," she replied with a quaver in her voice. "Will I see you when I get home?"

"Let's concentrate on getting you home first," I said seriously, "then we'll see ok?"

"Ok," she answered sadly, "at least it gives me a reason to look forward to coming home, sort of."

"Yeah, well have a good trip Emily."

"Not without you Nomi, not any more anyway, it won't be the same without you. Love you baby."

"Yeah, love you too, good night Emily."

"Night love, miss you."

I couldn't settle after I put down the phone, wandering back and forth like a zoo animal that had gone cage crazy. I was full of nervous energy after talking to Emily again, and I needed to do something other than sit in front of the television watching some meaningless drama. Thankfully I remembered what I loved about staying here, and ten minutes later I was dressed in my racing suit and a robe and heading down the stairs to the pool.

It was just as I remembered it, though why I thought it would be different I didn't know. There was that wonderful silence, only the echo of my footsteps as I marched across the tiles towards the tiny wooden benches where I could leave my gear. The water in the pool was cold on my skin as I dived in; but it was good, cleansing, soothing.

And right now I needed soothing, right now I needed my brain to shut down.

o+o+o

The rest of the week went like clockwork, even if my anxious face kept appearing in and out of the various parts of the office, looking out for information that would tell me if Emily, and her team, were ok. Happily the reports that we were getting from the specialist field unit that Cook had assigned to the sales team were mostly positive. The initial round of meetings had gone without a hitch and the first of the demonstrations had also gone to plan.

The only thing that had concerned me a little was that the second demonstration had been moved, though Cook assured me that this was being taken into account. Rather than at the location we had originally been informed about, the manoeuvres were taking place a lot closer to the disputed border with Pakistan in the far north of the country. It wasn't the end of the world, mission wise, but it did add another level of threat to the profile.

"Will you stop fussing Naomi," Cook had told me on Thursday lunchtime as I appeared in the meeting room, "everything is fine. We've just spoken to the team and there's nothing unusual about this and they're going to be fifty miles from anywhere that's considered sensitive."

"But what about the threats," I'd replied. '_Khuddam ul Islam'_ are known to have links in Pakistan, don't you think we should step up security a little?

"Guys on the ground aren't worried Naomi," he'd replied, shaking his head, "and neither are my tech team. The threat is low my friend, Emily will be fine."

Despite his assurances my gut was still churning away and I spent an uncomfortable afternoon, fretting about things. So much so I finally broke down that evening and called Joanna, thankful of the reassuring sound of her voice on the other end of the line.

"It's ok to be nervous Naomi," she said, her voice calm and relaxing, "despite everything that's happened you still love Emily and you're worried about her."

"Shouldn't I be?" I asked a little angrily.

"I don't know Naomi, but from what you tell me everyone is saying Emily's fine and even you think her security is ok…"

"I said it was adequate," I interrupted, "just about."

"Are you worried for her safety or just worried you're not there Naomi?"

I pondered her question, we'd discussed this in one of my earlier sessions, the gnawing feeling that I used to have when I was in the CPU; the feeling that if I wasn't there my boys would get hurt or worse. She'd patiently explained that it wasn't in any way uncommon in soldiers; and how it wasn't in any way supported by evidence.

"Bit of both I think," I replied honestly, "I want to be there so I could make sure she is safe, but I still don't want to risk jinxing things."

"Naomi you can't be a jinx," she explained again, "there's no such thing. You didn't jinx anything; you're just reacting to the belief that you made a mistake, just like you did with your friend Paul. You're just torturing yourself to make yourself feel better."

"So why don't I?" I asked, my chest compressing at the thought, "why don't I feel better?"

"Because that's not how it works Naomi, and you know that too. Look, I have a space tomorrow afternoon, why don't you come in and see me? I think we could do a lot more face to face, can you make it for about one o'clock?"

"I'll have to ask my boss," I said already knowing the answer would be yes; I was sure Cook would be glad to see me gone even if it was only for an hour or so.

"Then I'll pencil you in Naomi, if you need anything else give me a call. See you tomorrow."

I spent the rest of the evening in the apartment blocks tiny gym before heading to the pool once more; churning my way through rep after rep, length after length, looking for some peace in the exhaustion of exercise.

o+o+o

I didn't find any peace that night, but I did find exhaustion; falling into a restless, nightmare filled, sleep somewhere around midnight. By the time I looked into the mirror after my morning's shower I was looking like the definition of boiled shite, black rings under my eyes a testament to my haunted dreams.

I was up early as I had been all week, heading into the office to catch up with what was happening in India, making sure things were going well. As usual the building was virtually empty, apart from Mel from the Ops team, acting as early morning liaison.

"In again Naomi," she said as I walked into their tiny office, two steaming cups of coffee in my hands, "I bet you'll be glad then they're all home and you can have a lie in."

I smiled at her teasing, she'd been winding me up since Wednesday when I was in early to oversee the teams trip to Heathrow.

"Do you want this coffee or not Melanie-Jane?" I replied, hoisting the drink out of her reach.

"Damn, you sound like my mother," she laughed, reaching up and stretching to grab the cup. "Gimme you or I won't tell you what's going on."

"What is going on?" I asked nervously, pushing the cup into her hands.

"Absolutely nothing," she said, grabbing the cup and sticking her tongue out at me. "Team Lead reports that breakfast was rubbish and it's, quote 'really fucking hot'."

"Cow," I told her taking a sip from my cup, "anything else?"

"Nope," she said with a shake of her head, "everything's quiet. The teams due to move out to the test site in about an hour."

"Threat level?" I asked, again as usual.

"Non-existent," she replied, again as usual and I relaxed a little.

"Good, I'll go check on my e-mails then, let me know…"

"…If anything changes; sure Naomi of course I will."

I spent the next few hours in the JT's office, dealing with mundane details of shipping numbers, freight timetables and flight times; checking and double checking that everything the team needed for the flight back was correct. The plan required a couple of hours drive from the testing site to Srinagar followed by a private flight back to New Delhi. Due to the timing I'd been forced to book them into a hotel for an overnight stay before getting the first flight home. It wasn't the ideal situation I knew, but it was better than my trip home from that corner of the world.

Just before nine Cook's face appeared around the door to the office, a grin plastered all over it.

"Naomi, what a surprise it is to see you here so bright and early," he said with a wink.

"Fuck off boss," I replied with a grin, "you checked in yet?"

"Yeah, all quiet, they're on the drive out now, so far so good."

"Cool," I replied nodding, "look I need a favour this afternoon, Joanna's got a slot at one and given that you…"

"…Take it Naomi," he interrupted giving me a thumbs up, "anything to stop you wearing out the carpet between here, my office the conference room and the bloody Ops Centre."

"Thanks boss, I'll try not to be too long with her."

"Take as much time as you need Naomi, I think you'll be better for it."

He gave me another wink before vanishing, leaving me to my thoughts, and my screen. Perhaps I had been a bit of a pain in the arse this week, trying to be involved when I wasn't actually supposed to be. I knew Cook was making allowances for the circumstances, or was even playing the long game and allowing me enough rope to hang myself; tempting me back into the business by default. Either way I decided to try and stay in the office for as long as I could, after all there was nothing much I could do from here.

Nothing except worry.

Despite my vow to stay out of the way, I got regular updates from the guys at CP, Mel sending me an e-mail to tell me the team had arrived on site. I allowed myself to breathe a sigh of relief at that news, the test site was well and truly guarded, it would take a suicide mission to get at Emily there, not that that was something that couldn't happen.

Still I was assured that the security around the sales and technical team was impressive, but then when you're hanging around with some of the most senior officers in the Indian army I guess you would expect that. The last update was almost celebratory, the mission so far a complete success. The mood in the office was relaxed, and I headed off for my appointment with Joanna a happy girl.

o+o+o

Two hours later I was driving back to the office a happy and relaxed girl, the session with Joanna one of my better ones. She hadn't done much talking, but her questions had been challenging, and right to the point of my problems. I'd made a decision on the drive home, a decision that I might live to regret but needed to do. I'd sent an email to Emily saying that I'd pick her and her CPO from the airport, and that if she wanted to we could go somewhere and talk about things. I even sent a text to Jenna to tell her what I'd decided, getting a delighted reply in return. All in all it had been a great session.

Joanna had made me realise that I really missed Emily, that I was worried about her for all the right reasons, because I loved her and I wanted to be there for her; she'd convinced me that this time making the first move would be the right thing to do.

She'd given me space, it was up to me to close the gap and see what happened.

It was with a cheesy little spring in my step that I tugged off my aviators and headed up to the CP offices. I was feeling so good that I didn't bother with the lift, taking the stairs in an attempt to wear out my good mood before Cook spotted it and ripped the piss out of me. My good mood evaporated as soon as I walked through the huge double doors though; the atmosphere had changed and there was an unmistakable tension in the air. I noticed it the second that Helen on reception caught my eye and then looked away, suddenly interested in whatever was on the screen in front of her. As I walked through the office people were giving me looks and I knew that something was wrong.

"What's going on Cook?" I said, knocking on his door and walking in unannounced.

"Take a seat Naomi," he said waving at the chair, "now don't panic, this is probably nothing, but we've lost contact with the team in India."

"What do you mean lost contact?" I demanded, out of the chair in an instant.

"Just that Naomi, we've had a communications breakdown. Don't jump to conclusions, it's happened before; we're just waiting for them to check in now."

"How long have they been out of contact?" I asked, my heart feeling like it was going to explode in my chest.

"Not long, they missed their call-in about twenty minutes ago, probably a dead zone or a duff battery."

"But it might not be," I responded angrily, "we can't assume all is going well."

"James is right Naomi dear," Jenna's voice called out from behind me causing me to whirl around in shock. "We can't assume the worst just yet, heavens if Colin thought that I was in trouble every time I couldn't use my phone he'd never have got any sleep at all."

She hugged me as she walked into the office, placing a surprising kiss on my cheek as she did so. "Thank you for the text by the way, I was in the office and I thought I should come by to see you and say congratulations; it was really good news."

"Yeah well Joanna is a great listener," I replied with a smile, "helped me sort things out a little."

"What's this?" Cook asked, looking on with interest.

"Naomi's agreed to meet up with Emily to sort things out James," Jenna said walking over to hug him too. "I think our little girl has just grown up a little bit more."

"Well if that doesn't just make me the proudest papa in the whole wide world," he said, over-emphasising his accent just a little bit.

"So, what exactly is going on James?" Jenna asked finally, "did I hear your team is out of contact?"

"They are Jenna," he replied casually, though I could hear the underlying tension in his voice. "But it's probably nothing, would you like to wait in the conference room, until we hear from them?"

"I think that would be a good idea James, I think I would appreciate knowing when they check in."

We waited in the conference room for the next hour or so, a cold cup of untouched coffee in front of me while I fretted. Despite Cook's reassuring words I knew her was as worried as I was, the team had not missed one call and had only been five minutes late on one occasion due to a lack of signal on the satellite phone they were using. I knew it could have been nothing more than a dead battery or a dropped phone shattering into pieces on a rocky floor; but my gut was telling me something different, my gut was telling me it was not good.

As we sat there, lost in our thoughts the silence was shattered by the ringing of the desk phone and Cook snatched at it quickly.

"Cook here….yeah, yeah sure Effy why? Naomi put the TV on please…what channel Eff?...Sky News please Naomi."

I walked over to the screen on the wall and turned it on, picking up the remote from the side and flicking channels until the Sky News logo and a female newsreader appeared.

"Turn the sound up Naomi," Jenna said as my eyes were drawn to the yellow ticker that was running across the screen. Numbly I pressed the button until the voice became clear drowning out the clatter as I dropped the remote to the floor.

"_Details are unclear at the moment, but reports are coming in from our correspondent in the Indian province of Jammu and Kashmir that a British business woman is missing following an attack on her vehicle in the area. It is understood that the three car convoy she was travelling in was ambushed on their journey back from a military exercise close to the disputed border with Pakistan. The woman, thought to be Miss Emily Fitch of Fitch Industries was negotiating a multi-million pound business deal at the time. Miss Fitch was involved in what was believed to be an attempted kidnapping earlier this year and…"_

The room went silent at that moment, the screen of the television shattered into a million pieces; the only sound was the clunk of the glass shards as they fell from the frame and the wet splashes as my fist dripped blood to the carpet.


	71. Nightmares Into Reality

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness and a really, really bad temper.

**Chapter 71 – Nightmares Into Reality**

_The room went silent at that moment, the screen of the television shattered into a million pieces; the only sound was the clunk of the glass shards as they fell from the frame and the wet splashes as my fist dripped blood to the carpet._

"Hold still Naomi dear," Jenna said softly appearing at my side and placing her hand on my forearm, "let me have a look at that for you."

I looked down numbly to see her gently lifting my left arm, barely registering the blood and the shards of glass that were sticking out of it.

"James, can you get me a first aid kit or something please, we'll need to clean this up and take Naomi to the hospital just in case."

"Right away ma'am," Cook replied, though his voice sounded wrong to my ears. I heard the conference room doors open and close and felt a slight tug at my hand, looking on detachedly as she pulled out a piece of glass from between my first and second knuckles.

"That was very silly Naomi dear," she told me, her voice sounding strained, "you might have really injured yourself; now, where does it hurt."

"It's fine Jenna," I said, or at least I think I said; it sounded like my voice at least. "it doesn't really hurt; and I'm not going to hospital."

"Well we really need to get it seen to dear, it's quite a mess."

I lifted it out of her hand and looked at it closely, it was a bit bloody certainly, but apart from a couple of glass splinters that I could see its bark was worse than its bite. I dabbed at it with my sleeve and started to clear off the blood.

"Stop that Naomi," Jenna berated me, grabbing at my hand with a surprisingly powerful grip. "You'll make it worse, at least let me get my tweezers from my bag."

"It's fine Jenna," I said again, "and you've got more important things to worry about than my hand; we need to get to Ops to get a sit-rep."

"Right now Naomi dear your hand is the only thing I can do anything about," she replied calmly, "now let me do what I do best while your people find out what's going on."

"What do you mean?" I asked dumbly, "What you do best?"

"Being a mother dear," she said in a voice that sounded so much like my own mother I nearly collapsed. "Now come and sit down and let me help you."

We were sat at the table with Jenna pulling pieces of glass from my hand when Cook appeared with Tony, a small plastic first aid kit in his hand.

"Hi Mrs Fitch," he said as he sat down next to me, "Naomi, what the hell have you done?"

"Broke the television," I said as he began dabbing at my hand with some gauze. "What's going on Cook; is that story for real?"

"Don't know for sure yet," he said, addressing us two of us. "We're doing everything we can to find out though."

"Work harder Cook," I muttered, wincing slightly as Tony wiped the blood away from my knuckles with an antiseptic wipe; Jenna hovering with a pair of eyebrow tweezers.

"Doing everything I can Naomi," he replied, "Mel's on the phone to anyone at the Foreign Office that will answer right now. We'll find something out for definite soon."

"Naomi will you hold still," Jenna said gripping my wrist tightly as I clenched my fist in frustration. "I'm trying to get this piece out; stop making it worse."

I unclenched my hand and felt a slight tugging sensation as Jenna went to work, that annoying fucking wipe stinging as it mopped up the damage I had done.

"Not as bad as I thought," I heard Jenna say to Tony.

"No," he agreed, "I don't think there's need for stitches here; I'll bandage it up and it'll be fine."

It felt like I was sitting outside myself listening, so detached I was from what was going on around me. My mind was elsewhere, running images of Emily, involved in an ambush, screaming her lungs out in terror as the bullets flew around her. _'You should have been there,' _my brain told me. _'You could have saved her if you were there.'_

'_You might have killed her if you were there,'_ the other side of my brain berated me, reminding me why I was sat here in the UK and not in India. _'You're a jinx remember?'_

It was a fucking mess, yet one more fucking mess in my fucking career of keeping people alive. Damned if I do and damned if I don't.

"Naomi?"

I blinked and looked up as Cook called out my name, "you ok there kid?"

"What the fuck do you think?" I replied turning and looking into his eyes before, "sorry boss," I said as I saw the honesty in him; "not doing well right now."

"No need to apologise kiddo," Cook said placing his hand on my shoulder. "I know how you must be feeling right now."

"Do you Cook? Do you really?" I snapped, causing him to look away, catching Tony's eyes.

I do though Naomi," Jenna interrupted, squeezing my forearm, "I know that pain if not more. This isn't helping dear, and Emily wouldn't thank you for it."

She was right as well; everything I knew about Emily told me that sitting here in a funk wasn't what she would have wanted. What she would have wanted was for me to pull myself together and look for a way to help her.

And punching my way through a television screen wasn't helping at all.

Five minutes later my hand was covered with bits of sticking plaster and one of the IT guys had been in and removed the damaged television, the cables left dangling from the plaster work in mute accusation to the rage I had suffered. Half an hour after that and I was wearing out the carpet again, tramping between Ops, the conference room and Cook's office trying to confirm or refute the story on the news. Everyone in the office was tiptoeing around me as if they were waiting for me to explode again, everyone except Jenna that was. Jenna was a tower of strength once more, the self-control that she had shown with the death of Rob being exerted once again with the possible loss of her daughter.

Damn I loved that woman.

I jumped in my seat as the phone on the conference room table rang again, Cook snatching it out of the cradle before the first ring had ended. "Yes?" he said quickly, before going silent. I was watching his face as he listened, and I caught a look from Jenna that told me she'd come to the same conclusion I had.

"Well James?" she said when finally he put the handset back into the receiver; "is my daughter alive or is she dead?"

Cook blinked at the directness of her question, pausing to look across at me. I didn't actually say a word, but I desperately wanted him to speak up, give us the good news, or the bad.

"We still aren't sure Jenna," he said, his voice low. "The reports that are coming in say the cars were shot up pretty badly. I'm afraid it looks like we've lost some more people and that Emily and some of her people were taken."

"Taken?" Jenna interrupted, you mean they've been kidnapped or something?"

"That would be my assumption," Cook replied nodding, "if you remember the team thought that the game plan had changed; looks like they were right."

"What about Baghdad Cook?" I asked, my mind not putting his two and two together to make four. "That didn't seem like a kidnapping attempt."

"We don't even know if that was the same people Naomi," he said with a shrug that annoyed me more than a little. It could have just been local dissidents."

"They seemed pretty organised," I replied doubtfully, "after all they seemed to know when and where to hit us."

"And Emily survived that attack too Naomi," Jenna added, turning to face me. "It was only your quick thinking that kept her alive wasn't it?"

"Perhaps," I replied, not in the slightest bit convinced. My mind was already playing back the attack in Baghdad, looking for anything that would convince me that it was anything but an attempt to kill us all.

"Either way, that's in the past," Cook said getting to his feet. "We need to concentrate on what we know and don't know. Naomi, would you review the details of the mission, see what might have gone wrong. I'm going to contact our people at Fitch Industries and get them to look out for anything coming in just in case. Jenna, would you let us know if anyone attempts to contact you directly?"

"Of course I will James, do you think Emily is still alive?"

"I do Jenna," Cook said, and I could see the belief in his eyes. "I'm convinced that they're going to get in touch sooner rather than later; they tried to assassinate Emily here which would have been a major coup for them, this time though the coup would be in what she can give them."

"And what's that?" she asked, the pain starting to leak through into her voice.

"She can give them publicity Jenna," he said with a sad smile, "and as long as she can do that she's priceless."

"She's priceless to me already boss," I told him firmly, getting a nod from Jenna.

"Well she's now priceless to them too," he answered with a nod. "But if I'm right the next few weeks might not be pleasant for either of you. You know the sort of thing we might be forced to watch."

I did, and I suspected Jenna did too, images of captives dragged out in front of video cameras flashing through my mind. Battered and bruised and forced to read statements with swords at their throats and guns in their faces. The thought of Emily having to live through that, or worse, was making me feel sick inside, and I could tell that it was doing the same to Jenna.

"You need to stay positive ladies," Cook said again, reading my mind. "We'll do everything we can to get her home."

o+o+o

I spent the rest of the afternoon, and long into the evening, in the office, going over the mission plans; trawling through reams of paper to look for the flaw that had caused the failure. Even when I'd been forced to leave by a stressed looking Cook, I had cast a hyper-critical eye over everything once more whilst sat alone in the apartment; ear glued to the English version of the Al Jazeera news channel for any confirmed information I could find. Rumours were rife about what had allegedly happened, but there was nothing definitive coming out of India and I'd learned a long time ago that the Arab news channel was often the best place to hear broadcasts from terrorist groups like that who regularly sent them their foul ramblings. Nothing against the station, they were just doing their job; but unfortunately because they were favoured by the Middle Eastern groups, they had acquired a bit of a reputation amongst the British forces.

As much as I searched through the data I'd taken from the office, the truth of the matter was I couldn't find anything wrong with the security; nothing at all. The facts that were laid out in front of me and the team had clear justifications for every decision, including the ones regarding the number of vehicles; the one my gut had told me was wrong. I simply couldn't find fault with what had been put together; from what I could tell, the only explanation was, even if it was a staged attack, that it was just bad luck.

Like the ambush in Gereshk had apparently been just bad luck; I guess sometimes it just happens.

It was three-thirty in the morning when my phone rang, jolting me from a restless doze on the sofa. Quickly I grabbed at it when I saw Cook's name on the screen and I stammered out a bleary hello.

"Naomi, I'm sorry to wake you," he said sounding as exhausted as I felt. "We've had some information come in and I thought you'd want to know."

"Not a problem boss," I told him as I blinked my way back to consciousness, "talk to me."

"Current information says Emily is alive my friend," he said causing a weight to lift off my chest. "I thought you might like that news," he added as I breathed for what felt like the first time that night. "The bad news is that it's exactly as we feared, she's been taken hostage with one other member of her team, a technical guy called Brian."

"Don't know him," I said thickly, "what about everyone else?" I asked, knowing that the answer would be the same as Gereshk, as Baghdad.

"They didn't make it Naomi," he said sadly. "From what I'm hearing our team put up a fight, but they were caught cold, no survivors from what I've been told."

"No-one?" I said, shocked at his revelation.

"Not a soul Naomi," he replied, "not a fucking soul." I heard the thump as he hit something hard. "They were good people Naomi, some of my very best; this fucking contract is costing me dear."

I didn't answer, thinking that this fucking deal had cost me everything I held dear. Joni Mitchell had been fucking right, you really _didn't_ know what you had until it was gone; though I suspected that Joni wouldn't have the anger issues I had right then.

"You ok there Naomi?"

"What the fuck do you think James," I said, before apologising profusely for my anger.

"It's ok Naomi, I understand," Cook replied. "I was pretty messed up when I realised I'd put Effy at risk on your test day. No need to apologise to me my friend; we'll get her back you know, one way or another."

"Whatever it takes boss?" I asked, leaving the question hanging in the air.

"You're fucking right Naomi, _whatever_ it takes."

"You mean that boss?" I asked, wondering if he knew what I meant.

"I mean it Naomi, no one fucks with my people, if no-one else is going to sort this we will, you understand?"

"I'm with you boss, "I said my heart beating faster at his words. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that though yeah?"

"Fucking right blondie," he replied with a hint of his usual aplomb, "but start thinking about it just in case, get me?"

"Got you boss," I replied taking a deep breath. What he was implying was pretty fucking serious, but in my eyes totally worth it. "What do you need me to do?"

"Call in every favour you might have left blondie, this is fucking personal now. Ideally we find these fuckers and then the politicians send the big boys in to clean them out..."

"…and if they won't?" I interrupted knowing the fucked up nature of international politics.

"Then we'll do it ourselves," he replied firmly, "even if it's just you and me my friend. We don't leave our people behind Naomi, that's the Rangers way."

"That's our way too James," I replied, my pulse pounding at his words, "no-one gets left behind."

"Then let's see what we can do," he said and I could feel the enthusiasm in his voice. "Ideally it won't ever happen, but I'm ready for it if you are."

"You know it boss," I replied not really believing his words; but liking what he was saying none-the-less.

"Well fingers crossed that we don't have to go that far," he said with a yawn, "and don't take this the wrong way Naomi, but this isn't going to be good for the company's reputation. I know that's the last thing on your mind right now, but I've got to think about it. We lost someone on my watch Naomi; people are going to be looking at us to see what we do."

"I understand boss," I told him, realising the truth of his words. A protection company that failed to protect the package wasn't going to win many clients. "Anything I can do to help?"

"Well right now I'd suggest getting some sleep my friend, I get the feeling tomorrow is going to be a long day."

"Yeah," I agreed, "sounds like a plan boss. Thanks for letting me know about Emily, I appreciate it."

"Not a problem my friend, I'll see you in the morning; good night Naomi."

"Night boss," I replied, hearing a click on the end of the line that told me he was already gone.

I sat and stared at the papers on the table, my mind running through the implications of what I had just agreed to without a second thought. Running a mission like that in a foreign country would not be easy, and it was going to turn me into something I'd hated when I was in the Army, little more than a fucking mercenary.

"It's not the same thing," I muttered to myself as I hauled my stiff body off the sofa and headed for bed. "It's not the same thing at all."

o+o+o

Day two of my waking nightmare brought my worst fears to the fore; the hastily replaced television screen showing the face of my Emily. All things being equal it could have been worse; tied to a chair with a cut above her eye that had given her a shiner a boxer would be proud of. She looked dirty, and unkempt, and in pain; but the eyes that I loved so much were still showing a hint of defiance whenever her masked captors forced her to look into the camera. It made my blood boil to see her manhandled like that, and it was only Effy's restraining hand on my shoulder that stopped me losing it all over again.

"What was that fucker saying?" I asked finally as the short clip that had been taken from an internet site came to an end, "do we have a translation?"

"Usual shit," Cook replied tossing a sheath of papers he was reading down the table. "Upshot of it is they want the release of all remaining prisoners in Gitmo, a withdrawal of the 'Western murderers' that are 'killing children daily' in Afghanistan and slightly less honourably the sum of twenty million dollars from Fitch Industries for the return of their 'merchants of death'."

"Jesus," I said angrily, suspecting that the money was the real motivator here. "They have to know that they're not going to get their demands met?"

"They've given us two days to comply or they're going to kill one of the hostages. Jenna's got the Foreign Office people trying to negotiate; apparently they've got a link through a contact in Pakistan."

"There's no way Jenna can raise ten million dollars surely," I said feeling sick, "I know the family's rich but…"

"They're not that rich no," Cook said shaking his head. "Jenna's trying to find out how much she can raise now, but I think we all know how that's going to go."

"You don't think they mean it?" Effy asked, surprise in her voice. "You can't mean their plan is just to kill her?"

"Who knows," Cook countered sighing, "they have to know they're asking for the impossible, all we can hope for is that they'll negotiate downwards; that's what usually happens."

"Or they're already dead," Tony said from his chair opposite me, carefully ensuring his eyes came nowhere near mine as I glared at him.

"That's always a possibility yes," Cook said nodding, "let's hope it's not the case though. Right people you know what you have to do, let's make it happen…Naomi can you wait behind for a second?"

I nodded and remained seated while the rest of the team filed out, staring at Emily's image still on the screen, frozen in place as if to taunt me. I blinked as the screen went black and turned to see Cook with the remote in his hand. "Enough of that for now I think," he said tossing the box onto the table, "Eff honey, could you give us a moment alone please?"

I hadn't realised that the brunette hadn't moved either, still sat in the chair next to mine. She made no sign of moving either, simply looking at Cook with a raised eyebrow.

"Please Eff," Cook continued, matching her stern look with one of his own. "I need to talk to Naomi about something important, and it needs to be between me and her."

"Something about your little rescue mission James," she said with a hint of anger in her voice. "Did you think I wouldn't hear you on the phone last night? Are you both fucking mad?"

"It's only a backup plan honey," Cook said soothingly, seeming only to serve to rile her more.

"Fuck that, are you insane? Leave that shit to the professionals."

"We are the professionals," I said getting to my feet. "Or at least I was. I'll sort it boss, and you can stay out of it. It's better that way anyways, for the _four_ of you that is. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I need to make a call, and then I have to pay someone a visit."

o+o+o

I sat at JJ's desk, folding and unfolding a piece of paper one of the researchers had passed me that morning. I'd asked if they could find me a number for a name and I was working out the best way to open a conversation; frankly I had no idea how it was going to go down. Taking a deep breath I dialled the number that I'd been given, only to get the distinctive sounds of a recorded message.

Hating the sound of my voice as I spoke, I left a short message and hung up; dropping my phone to the table in frustration. Everything seemed to be going against me right now, people I thought could help weren't available, Effy was going, understandably, batshit about Cook charging off like the Lone fucking Ranger, and Emily was on a fucking countdown to death and there wasn't anything I could do about it. I wanted to get out and beat the shit out of something or someone, but that wouldn't help and, as my sore knuckles told me, probably wouldn't be a good idea.

"Well I guess I'm in trouble then," Cooks voice rang out; I looked up to see him stood in the doorway with a wry smile on his face. "Mind if I join you?"

"Your building" I replied as he closed the door and walked over to the chair opposite my, no JJ's, desk. "I take it Effy's not too pleased with your plan?"

"You could say that my friend," he replied with a shrug, "but she'll get over it. She's just worried, but then she always is."

"It would be fucking dangerous boss," I told him, though I knew he knew that, "I think she's right, you should stay out of it; you've got a business and a family to think about, I've only got Emily."

"Well," he said thoughtfully, "we'll cross that bridge when we come to it. What's your thoughts?"

"I think we need intel' boss, we need to know where they've got her, how many people are holding her and how big a shitstorm we're likely to generate if we go in…same as the SAS boys would do."

"You familiar with hostage extraction kiddo?"

"Not really boss, but I can kick in a door and throw a flashbang with the best of them."

"I remember," he said with a wink, "beat me anyway."

"Not the same thing Cook, nowhere near the same amount of pressure."

"No," he said nodding seriously, "look kiddo, I want a game plan by the end of the day if you can, first thoughts anyway. I've got Ops doing their thing, calling in favours wherever they can and we'll meet up for a planning meeting. JJ wants in as well so you'll have his expertise as well, at least over the phone."

"I've tried to get in touch with someone I know too, an old contact. Probably useless now but I'm hoping he'll call me back soon."

"The more the merrier Naomikins," Cook said standing. "Well I've got people to talk to and making up to do with my gal. You going over to see Jenna like you said?"

"I never said it was Jenna I was going to see," I replied getting a long and knowing look from my boss. "Yeah," I admitted finally, "I think we might need funds, contacts and specialists; I think she might be able to help."

"Well add that to your briefing kiddo," he ordered opening the door, "eighteen hundred hours, don't be late."

"No Sir," I said snapping a salute sarcastically at his back.

"Oh and Naomi," Cook said turning, "don't let this eat you up ok, we're doing all we can, and Emily would want you to keep things together for her you know?"

"I know boss," I replied, knowing he was right but thinking that it was easier said than done. "I'll do my best."

"Good girl," he said smiling and nodding at me, "good girl."

o+o+o

I opted not to drive across town to Fitch Industries, taking the opportunity to walk off the frustrations barging through the crowds with a murderous look on my face. Unsurprisingly the few people that did get in my way as I yomped through the streets didn't stick around to complain; today I was a girl that would take any shit.

Half an hour of brisk marching later I was entering the familiar glass lobby of Fitch industries, getting a nod from the members of CP that were, as always, located by the doors, watching out for trouble. I called up from reception, asking for Bonnie and getting her distraught sounding voice; she assured me that Jenna would want to see me, but that she was in a meeting right now and perhaps I would want to come up and wait in Emily's office. I didn't really, but unable to think of an alternative I agreed, climbed into the elevator and headed for her floor.

"Good to see you," Bonnie said as I stepped out of the lift, crushing me in a hug. "Really good to see you Naomi, it's horrible isn't it? Just horrible."

"Yeah," I replied patting her awkwardly on the back. "It's horrible Bon, how's Jenna doing?"

"She's being brave again," Bonnie said, stating the bleeding obvious and thankfully releasing me. "She's talking to some people from the Government right now, but she said to ask you to wait, she says you have some things to discuss."

I nodded vaguely and allowed her to lead me down the corridor to the office we used to share, following her like a chastened puppy through the door and into Emily's office proper.

"Would you like a drink Naomi? Coffee or tea or…"

"Nothing thanks Bon," I said as she flailed about uncharacteristically. "I'm good. I'll just wait here if that's ok?"

"Yeah…well…should me if you need anything Naomi."

I nodded my thanks and looked away, hearing the door close behind her and breathing a sigh of relief as I found myself alone. I didn't sit in my usual chair, didn't sit at all, finding the memories of the office far too difficult to deal with. I stared out of the huge windows, looking out at the glass buildings and bustling activity of the city, feeling ever isolated from it all.

It was a curious feeling, to be lonely; I really didn't like it, too many bad memories of that as well.

I didn't have to wait long for Jenna to appear in the office, bustling in with Katie in tow.

"Naomi, thanks for waiting," she said quick-stepping across to me and hugging me tightly. "We've got so much to talk about, so much we need to sort out."

I got no such greeting from Katie, a stinging slap to the face was all I got from her as Jenna released me; my cheek burning under the ferocity of the blow.

"That's for abandoning my sister Campbell, that's for fucking her up."

"Katie," Jenna admonished, staying her hand from a backhanded blow that would have completed the set.

"It's ok Mrs Fitch," I said, mopping a small trickle of blood from the corner of my mouth. "I deserved that."

"Fucking right you did," Katie agreed, eyes flashing, "you fucking abandoned her and now she's gone…so what the fuck are you doing to get her back?"

"Anything and everything I can," I said softly, glancing at Jenna.

"Well see that you do," she said frowning, "this is all your fault after all."

"Katie that is enough," Jenna said, real anger in her voice, "how can this be Naomi's fault? She had nothing to do with Emily's trip, if anyone is to blame it is me; I'm the one that sent her, put her in danger like that."

"I should have been there, it was what I was hired for," I disagreed.

"You thought you were doing the right thing Naomi," Jenna countered, our blame game continuing. "Emily understood your reasons," she added getting a loud snort from Katie. "She did understand Katie, now shush, I need to talk to Naomi about what happened today."

To my surprise Katie did just that, scowling at me once more and walking over to the sofa and sitting down, pulling a phone from her bag and messing with it. I barely noticed as Jenna started to talk to me, my eyes drawn to the phone in Katie's hands, the red sparkly case looking worryingly familiar.

"What have you got there?" I demanded suddenly, rudely cutting across Jenna as she spoke.

"What?" Katie said looking up at me angrily, "what does it look like?"

"It looks like Emily's phone cover," I practically shouted, feeling sick to my stomach as the truth dawned on me, "it looks like Emily's phone…why have you got it?"

"She left it on her desk; I've been checking it to see who might have e-mailed her just in case."

"She didn't take it with her?" I asked dumbly, staring at the crystal covered case that I had bought her on a whim, remembering her smile when I told her that it matched her hair. "She didn't…"

"Didn't what?" Katie snapped, looking at me in disgust, "what the fuck are you on about?"

"No, Emily didn't get your message Naomi," Jenna told me as she reached out a hand to touch my arm. "But I've moved it somewhere safe where no one else can see it, and she can read it when she comes home."

"What message?" Katie demanded, getting no reply from either of us, Jenna's fingers gently tapping my arm as I fought back tears. She hadn't got to read my message, hadn't known that I'd sorted out my head, and had gone to what could be her death thinking that, well, that I didn't care as much as I did.

"It wasn't your fault Naomi," Jenna whispered as if reading my thoughts. "You weren't to know."

o+o+o

Jenna's impromptu briefing didn't fill me with confidence about Emily's situation. The representatives of the Government, that she had met with earlier, were playing the public, _"we don't negotiate with terrorists"_ card; even if they had promised to do all they could through unofficial channels. The money side of things wasn't looking good either.

"_It's not that we're not worth that kind of money,"_ Jenna had explained smacking the table in frustration, _"it's just that most of our finances are tied up in the house, or the business or long term savings. It's not like I can just go to the bank and withdraw thirteen million pounds just like that; I couldn't even _borrow_ that kind of money in the time they're asking for, it's just impossible."_

I'd tried to explain that it was more than likely just an opening bid, but Jenna was having none of it, her nerves finally starting to show through that rock hard façade. It was at that moment I decided not to broach the subject of any possible rescue mission, despite the fact that the deadline was fast approaching. Instead I took the opportunity of Jenna heading for the bathroom to clean herself up to grab Katie and get her to do my dirty work for me.

"What will you do for your sister Katie?" I said quietly, squatting down next to her; my voice low and conspiratorial. "How far would you go to get her back?"

"I'll do everything I can," she said looking right into my eyes, "I _am_ doing everything I can."

I didn't need to question that, my investigators training telling me that she was being more than honest. Despite the differences between us, both past and present I knew I could trust her with this.

"So will I, and if that means going in to get her then that's what I'll do. But I can't do it alone Katie, I'm going to need equipment, information, funds and people…can you help with that? You and your mother that is?"

Katie continued to stare at me, her eyes softening slightly as she searched mine for a trace of a lie. Finally realising I was serious she nodded once and asked, "What do you need me to do?"

"I need you to pick the right moment and discuss it with your mother, don't go into details, and don't discuss this over the phone or with anyone else but her…not even your husband. Right now it's an idea, and a last resort in case no-one else will help and the fewer people that know about it the better; this isn't going to be a popular idea in official circles if you know what I mean?"

Katie nodded again and I clapped her on the shoulder, "I need to go and try and sort some things, if I get you a shopping list can Fitch Industries supply it?"

"If we can't I know a few people that can," Katie said frowning in thought, "there are a lot of people that owe Emily favours…if I'm honest though I don't know them all, I might need help from Bonnie."

"Then do it, but no-one else," I said warningly, "I trust her, but you must tell her how secret this needs to be, if anyone gets wind of it they could block it before we start; and we need to find a way of hiding the shopping list from prying eyes too, is that possible?"

"I'm sure Bonnie will know a way," Katie said nodding again, "leave it with me."

"Thanks Katie," I said as I stood up and collected my things from when I had left them. "I'll be in touch, say goodbye to Jenna for me."

"Naomi?" she called out as I walked towards the door to Bonnie's office. "Do you think you could do it, get her out if needed that is?"

"I do," I answered simply, because it was true.

"Won't it be dangerous?"

"Probably, but it would be worth it," I replied, shrugging. I opened the door, nodding at Bonnie as she looked up from her desk. "Mrs Fitch-Brace has something to discuss with you Bon," I said as I headed for the corridor, "I'll see myself out."

o+o+o

The sun was still shining as I walked back to the office, feeling better than I had all day. Things were far from good, but with Katie, and hopefully Jenna on board too we were further down the line than we had been an hour or two before. There was only one piece left in the puzzle missing right now, and as my phone rang in my pocket I prayed it was falling into place right now.

"Close Protection, Naomi Campbell speaking," I said as I answered it, my fake voice vanishing with the stress of the situation.

"Snowy Campbell," the voice at the end of the line said, "I had a feeling that you might be calling in that debt I owe you right about now."

"Jacko?" I asked tentatively, "Is that you?"

"In the flesh Snowy, now I have two questions for you mate; what do you need from me regarding the Fitch kidnapping, and how the fuck did you get this number?"

I smiled in relief as he spoke, not being in the slightest bit surprised that he knew exactly why I was calling. Keith "Jacko" Jackson and I had spent a bit of time together in Northern Ireland, and what we had done was still covered under the Official Secrets Act and probably would be for the rest of our lives. He was a good lad, for a member of the cloak and dagger brigade, and once he'd stopped half-heartedly hitting on me while we were on mission we'd got along pretty well. I'd done him a favour about four months after we'd gone our separate ways; nothing major, just appearing at a London Police Station in full uniform to get him out of the drunk and disorderly charge he was facing.

I hoped it was enough to get him to help me, and I was glad that he raised the debt before I had to.

"Tough times Snowy," he said as I explained that what I desperately needed was good quality intelligence on the bad guys, including knowing where they were. It was a long shot, and I doubted Jacko would, or would be able to help me; but as the only person I knew in Military Intelligence I had to try. "You and this Emily Fitch, you two close?"

"Pretty close Jacko, very close actually," I admitted.

"Got you," he replied unfazed. "Look I can't promise anything mate, it's not my area of expertise but I'll keep my ears open if I can. But do me a favour, don't call me again, if I find anything I can share I'll call you."

"Deal, thanks Keith, I appreciate it."

"Not a problem Snowy, but after this we're even ok?"

"More than even Jacko," I confirmed, "I'll probably end up owing you one."

"Well I can live with that," he laughed, "leave it with me mate…oh and Snowy?"

"Yes?" I asked, thinking he had already hung up.

"Fucking good to hear from you mate, really good; I hope you get her back."

"Yeah, me too."

o+o+o

The mood was sombre in the conference room at CP after I gave my part of the briefing. I was sure that Cook was hoping for something a little bit more definitive from me, and I could sense his disappointment as he got up to speak.

"Right guys, in terms of what we have now called Project M4 I have a seven man team in mind with a C&C unit made up of you Mel and I think Chris?"

"Chris is solid," Mel said nodding from her position at the head of the table. She'd opened the briefing with as much intelligence as they'd been able to dig out in the short time they'd had. It had been thin, but it had fleshed out who we were dealing with. "He can keep a secret as well."

"Good, I want the two of you on the ground over there as soon as possible, the rest of us will follow as soon as we can. There's not much time to play with, and as we don't know where the package is being held we're just going to have to guess."

I blinked as I heard Emily being called a package by Cook, I knew why he was doing it and I approved, but it felt funny to hear a man that had encouraged me _not_ to think of her as a package to be calling her that.

"I can organise tickets now James," Mel said twisting her hair thoughtfully. "I can leave first thing tomorrow morning, if I call Chris now I can see if he can fly out at short notice too, I know his passport is up to date, though I doubt he will thank you for it, you know he hates flying."

"Do that Mel, and tell Chris I'll make it up to the both of you; now we'll also need to stay in different places while we're there so it doesn't attract too much attention. Say that you're an advance party for Jenna if anyone asks, we know she's going to want to get over there whatever happens."

"Will do James, I'll go call Chris now" Mel said standing up and heading for the door.

"Mel," James said suddenly, causing her head to appear around the doorway comically. "It might be an idea to get hold of some burn phones for us when you're there, we'll need a way to keep in touch. Stick a hundred bucks worth of credit on all of them."

"Different shops and pay cash?"

"That's my girl," Cook replied giving her a thumbs up, "thanks Mel."

"She's good," Andy said from his seat next to me. I hadn't been surprised to hear that he'd volunteered to help with any rescue mission that we might run, but I had been surprised to hear that Simon had done so too. I knew both of them were experienced ex-Forces types, but I didn't think Cook would want to use people that were a bit rusty. Still you don't lose it, I'd proven that and the more we kept things inside the company the better. It didn't hurt that they both knew and liked Emily either, that made me feel good at least.

"She's the best," Cook said proudly, "if there's a fact she can't ferret out I have no idea what and where it might be. She'll sort things out for us out over there, there's no doubt of that."

He was still talking when I was distracted by a buzzing from my pocket, a call or text coming in. Hoping it would be something from Jenna I pulled it out, ignoring the conversation around me; it was a text from an unknown number and I looked at the preview confusedly before opening the whole message.

'_15b-g's' _it began, followed by a long string of numbers that looked like a reference of some kind followed by _'gdlkJ' _ I stared at the screen before my brain kicked in and deciphered it; it was like looking at a picture of a duck and suddenly seeing it turn into a rabbit.

"Boss, I think I have something here," I said sliding the phone across to him. He stared at it for a second before thumbing his chin, the sound of his fingers scratching across his five o'clock shadow filling the silence.

"Fifteen b-g's?" he said sounding confused, "and what the heck is that rubbish at the end?"

"Fifteen bad guys I think boss, the end is good luck. I think it's from my contact, the J kind of fits."

"You think this is a map reference, of the place where Emily might be?"

"I don't know boss," I replied feeling the excitement surging in my chest, "only one way to find out."

Cook nodded and opened a cupboard, gesturing at me to turn on the television on the wall. He pulled a fancy looking wireless keyboard from the cupboard and it wasn't that long before we were looking at the Google homepage on the screen and he was typing in the long series of numbers into the search bar to see what we got.

"Interesting," Cook remarked as the image of a small building in an open compound came into view. It was next to some water and had two outhouses, one of which appeared to be a boathouse of some kind by the way it stuck out into the water.

"Where is it?" Andy asked, and Cook messed with the scale bar to drag out the image, opening it up to reveal a large body of water that the compound was next to, far enough away from the nearest town to make it an isolated spot.

"Mangla Dam Reservoir," he read out from the tag on the screen, "never heard of it, any of you guys know it?"

He zoomed out on the image even more and we stared at the screen in horror, "Shit just got real kids," Cook said shaking his head. "If anyone wants to back out say so now."

To my relief no-one at the table made any indication of wanting to do so, but there was a new edge to the tension that hadn't been there before.

"Right then, looks like we're going to have a late night folks, we need a mission plan organising for a seven man insertion team to hit that compound. Put your heads together and I'll go have a word with Mel, if she's still here…I think we're going to need some help getting over the border into Pakistan."


	72. The Calm Before The Storm?

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness and a really, really bad temper.

**Chapter 72 – The Calm Before The Storm?**

I woke up to bright sunlight streaming in through the windows of the LT's office, burning through my closed eyelids with a pain that made the feeling that I hadn't had enough sleep even worse.

Rubbing my eyes clear of sleep I looked down at my watch to see it was barely seven am; not exactly early by my standards, but early enough considering the late night that I'd had. In fact it was more than early enough. Feeling worse than I had in weeks, which was certainly saying something, I blinked and looked around me; the carnage in the office testament to the frantic planning that we done until the very early hours of the morning.

I got to my feet and stretched noisily, the aches and pains reminding me of far too many awkward sleeping positions in the army and on the streets. There was, however, no time for grumbling about that; I needed two things immediately, the bathroom and a coffee, the bathroom for obvious reasons, and the coffee to jump start my brain.

"Morning blondie," Cook said as I walked into the kitchenette that served the offices, "Coffee? I've made it fresh."

"If I didn't think Effy would shoot me boss I would kiss you," I said flopping unceremoniously into one of the wooden chairs, still exhausted.

"Well now," he teased handing me a mug filled with a sweet smelling black coffee. "Effy isn't here blondie so let's not be so hasty about giving up on that idea."

"Behave boss," I said, grinning as I took a sip of the lifesaving liquor and looked around me. "Where is everyone?"

"It's still early kid, no-one's in yet," he replied with a happy sigh as he sniffed at his own mug. "Andy and Simon are in the conference room, probably still asleep on the floor."

"Yeah, it was a late one," I replied as I blew over my stingingly hot drink, "but I think we have a half decent plan."

"We're going to need it my friend, unless the negotiations work. You know that your people are not going to make an incursion into Pakistan from India don't you?"

I nodded sombrely; he was right and I knew it. If Emily was being held in the mountains of Afghanistan, there was a chance that a rescue mission could have been initiated; after all it had been done before. You didn't always hear about them, but aid workers, charity representatives and ordinary people trying to rebuild the country had been rescued by allied forces in both Iraq and Afghanistan and rather more secretly across the borders into other countries. They didn't always work, but the victories more than overshadowed the defeats; and more often than not the teams left no one alive to tell the tale, both for secrecy and as a lesson to others that thought to try the same thing.

There was no fucking way that would be happening here though, not unless _we_ did it; it was the wrong place, the wrong time, and the wrong side of the country. The politics of the situation were immense and there was no way the British Government were going to get involved in it. India and Pakistan had pretty much been at each other's throats since the Partition, and things had not become any easier over the years, not really.

It was this tension that had led to the threats against Fitch Industries from _'Khuddam ul-Islam'_, a group that to all intents and purposes violently opposed to the West and India and anywhere that wasn't a radical Islamist state. It was all fucked up and my Emily had been caught up in the middle of it all, targeted because of what she did.

"I had a look at what you're proposing," Cook said breaking the silence suddenly. "Don't you think your plan is a little overcomplicated?"

"It'll work," I said finally, "the hard part is getting on the ground and close to the buildings, there's not a lot of cover and we think that is the only sensible way in."

"Speaking of cover kid, you really think splitting up the team like that is a good idea? It's not like we're going in mob-handed you know?"

"We need someone to take out any patrols or guards while we make our entry boss, and I can't think of anyone better right now."

"Well there isn't exactly anyone else around right now is there?" he said with a wink.

"That's true too," I said smiling, "but still, you're the best I know, and with that toy I used in the States I think it's tactically sound."

"Well I got my number two picked out already amigo, and what I think will be the best location for me to get to. Plus side is if we get there ahead of the game we can call in the score to your entry team on the way in."

"Sounds good to me boss," I said mulling it over, "_if_ we can get secure communications and _if_ you're far enough away not to blow your cover and get yourself killed."

"Lil'darlin' I plan to be far enough away I could call you on the world's shittiest mobile phone and not be overheard by the boys in that compound."

I smiled at his comment; unlike many people I didn't read it as bravado or arrogance merely as the casual confidence of an expert that knew his stuff. It was an excellent addition to the basic plan, and it solved a whole host of problems that had been bugging me all fucking night. There was one thing that was worrying me though.

"One question boss, if you're going to be as far away as you say, are you going to be able to join us for the main assault we planned?"

"Trust me blondie," he said with a nod and a wink. "Me and my boy won't let you down. We're not going to be that far away really and we can cover the ground while you guys sweep the outer buildings where you won't need us."

I nodded approvingly at his suggestion, it was a really good idea and the plan was now a totally combined operation; an advance party providing on-site intelligence and sniper support, that would join up with the main unit once we were inside. It was the perfect mix of covert and kick ass and I was almost beginning to feel good about it.

"Does that mean you're approving our plan then boss?"

I surely am blondie," he said patting me on the shoulder. "To be honest with you, I really like the fact that you're not planning a straight entry, two teams makes a whole lot of sense, there's a lot of ground you've got to get across and not a lot of cover to hide behind."

"That was my thought boss, if you can snap a suppressor on that CheyTac that is, that way unless you miss one they won't even see us coming."

"I'm not known for missing Naomikins," he replied seriously, "we'll clear the way for you to get there as silently as you can. I take it you're looking at suppressed fire for the assault team too?"

"That's what I'm planning to ask for boss," I said nodding. "Among other things…we can't risk the packages; we've got to be as quiet as we can until it's too late."

"I know," he said smiling, "Ok Naomi you've convinced me, it's a good plan. The only thing I'm concerned now about is the extraction."

"Leave that with me boss, I've got an idea for that, and I think Katie Fitch-Brace is the perfect person to organise it."

"Ok Naomi, he said nodding his approval, "make it happen and I'll be a happy bunny. I would like to see my unborn child and I can't very well do that from inside a Pakistani military prison cell now can I?"

"You could always back out boss," I said quickly, "no-one would think badly of you, and it would make Effy a very happy woman."

"That's not how I roll blondie," he said shaking his head emphatically. "This is my mess, and if I'm going to keep my company, and its integrity, I think I need to be involved in sorting it out."

Cook put his mug down on the countertop with a thud, "If anything my friend I should be taking _you_ off the mission, you are _way_ too close to it to be objective; you know that as well as I do."

"That's not going to happen boss," I said firmly, even though I knew he was right. In any other mission like this I'd be removed from the mission rosta for being too emotionally close to the situation; fucked if I was going to allow that this time though.

"My point exactly ma'am," he replied with a wink, and that settled that.

"Any thoughts about the rest of the plan?" I asked him, thinking that a second opinion was never a bad thing.

"Only the insertion of the main team," he said pulling a face. "One thing that concerns me a little is this; do you honestly think that you'll be able to get everything you need without something getting out and blowing the mission?"

"I don't know boss," I replied shrugging, "but I figured that's what the Ops team is for; I have faith in Mel, I'm sure she can sort it for us…discretely."

"and if she doesn't?"

"Then we go to plan B," I said with a grin, "we borrow an Apache gunship or two and fly in."

"Fuck me Naomi, if you can get hold of an Apache and fly us in our problems will be over," he laughed loudly, grabbing the jug of coffee and topping up our mugs.

"Hardly covert though boss," I said saluting him with my newly filled mug.

"That's true," he replied, "Well I'll pass on the mission plans to her when we meet up later. I'm flying out with the boys lunchtime today."

"What about me?" I asked quizzically, wondering why I was suddenly being excluded.

"You're going to fly out with Jenna a little later than us, you need to get the equipment we need organised and then you're going to escort her over personally as her CPO."

"I am?" I exclaimed, "When exactly was that decided?"

"About half an hour ago when she woke me up with a call. She said she was up early because she's got some people to chase today, for us as well as to try and put pressure on the politicians to do something. I suggested that as she's flying later than I wanted that you should go with her"

"What about Richard?" I asked, "Shouldn't he be with Jenna as normal?"

"Not this time Naomi, I don't want too many of our people arriving en masse you know? So to the outside world you'll be there as Jenna's protection agent, that's your cover and I want you to stick to it."

"What about when I'm not there?" I asked with a frown, thinking that having Jenna alone and unprotected at some point wasn't the cleverest plan under the circumstances.

"Well we'll have the Ops team there Naomi, so she can stick with them. She'll be fine."

"I'll discuss it with her," I replied, my brain already thinking of alternatives. "Wonder if I could get her to agree to stay in her rooms, or go to the consulate offices or something."

"She'll be fine Naomi," Cook assured me, "Mel and Chris will look after her, and we can probably get the local authorities to chip in too."

"So when exactly am I flying out?" I said after mulling over his suggestions. "I'll need to pack some gear at least, and have a shower; I definitely need a shower."

"You're meeting up with Jenna after you've dropped me and the sleeping beauties off at the Airport my friend. I'd suggest you pack and grab a shower on the way back from there. Jenna never mentioned a flight time, but I would imagine she wants to get over there as soon as possible."

"I'd better get over to see Katie first thing then," I replied nodding and checking my watch, "any special requests for the equipment?"

"Apart from the Apache gunship you mentioned?" Cook replied smiling tiredly, "some decent optics for that rifle would be good, something that will give me an advantage in the dark, see if I can't work out how many people we're facing the easy way. Radio's, comms gear that can link us to wherever we set Mel up and…"

"Write me a list boss," I interrupted, sliding my phone across to him. "If it's not on the shopping list that's on this, then add it and I'll see what I can do. Time's a bit short though so we might have to improvise a little."

"Do your best Naomi; but remember, we'll have boots in the dirt before the first deadline expires, and hopefully we won't need to do anything before then."

"That's a big hope boss," I said shaking my head. "What if they decide to go through with it and kill them?"

"Unlikely Naomi, the intel' shows that these boys ain't dumb. They want their cash and they'll want their hostages; odds are as long as we're negotiating in good faith things will slow down and give us some time to play with."

"I don't like it boss," I said, thinking of Emily stuck somewhere and dreading to think of what might be happening to her. "The more time they're held the worse things are going to get for them you know?"

"Nothing else we can do kiddo," he replied sympathetically but honestly. "We simply can't get the op' set up that quickly, you know that. All we can do is just hope and pray that I'm right."

"I'm doing that already boss," I told him, staring glumly into my cup.

"I know that blondie," he replied patting my shoulder once more, "I am as well."

o+o+o

I took the opportunity to freshen up in the bathroom, stripping off my shirt and having a quick wash. I felt a bit uncomfortable pulling on the dirty clothes, but I made the best of it; I'd worn worse than a two day old shirt in the past and this was no time to be developing a squeamish side.

I did wish I was as organised as Emily though, she always seemed to have perfume in her bag and of course the small bottle of deodorant I'd insisted she carry in place of the pepper spray she'd illegally obtained. Either of those things might have made me smell a little sweeter, and no matter how nice the soap was that I'd found, it wasn't any match for the results of a night spent sleeping in your clothes.

"You off ?" Cook asked as I knocked and poked my head around the door to his office.

"Going over to the Fitch's yeah," What time do you need me to pick you guys up?"

"About half eleven?" he replied looking at the expensive looking divers watch on his wrist. "Give me a ring on your way in and I'll make sure we're waiting downstairs. Andy's off getting some work clothes for us all, I've told him to get the sort of thing we had for the States if you know what I mean; but we will need some tac-vests mailing over, I forgot to add it to your list," he added apologetically."

"I'd better get a hold of my kit then," I replied nodding and punching the need for some body armour into my note, frowning as I did so. "I think I've left all my stuff at Emily's.

Look I better be going, see you in a bit boss."

"Yeah, no worries blondie, give my best to the Fitch's and let them know we've got things moving; if I need you I'll give you a ring ok?"

"Yeah, not a problem boss" I replied confidently, though I knew the battery in the phone desperately needed a charge. "I'll call in if I hear anything positive."

"and if you don't?" he asked staring at me intently.

"Then I'll call that in as well," I replied with what I hoped was an unconcerned shrug.

"Do that," he said nodding approving, "now get out of here Naomi, and good luck."

o+o+o

I fumed my way out of the underground car park and through the packed streets of London; forgetting, in my desire to get moving, that it was fucking rush hour. Today was not a day for the asshole drivers of Central London to be fucking with me though, and I ignored the horns and waved fingers as I used the size of my beemer to bully my way through the packed streets until I made it to the car park that sat underneath the glass and steel building that held the offices of Fitch Industries. It didn't feel right to be pulling up in Emily's space, next to the flash Mercedes convertible that I just knew _had_ to be Katie's.

I was glad to see it parked there though; after all it was her I was coming to see.

"Jesus wept Naomi have you _heard_ of a shower?" Katie said her nose wrinkling as she shook her head at my appearance as I was ushered into her huge office. "Or an iron perhaps?"

"Both overrated," I said looking around as the door closed behind me leaving us alone. I'd never been in Katie's office before, and I was surprised by how big it actually was, far larger than Emily's office; even before she'd downgraded to get a space for Bonnie and me. The views over the city were better too, the windows even managing to find a break in the skyline that allowed something close to a view; all in all it looked a nice place to work.

"What are?" Katie asked staring at me and I realised she was referring to my rather flippant answer.

"Showers and irons, pretty much overrated right now," I told her folding my arms, "and as I was up until three-ish this morning trying to organise things for my latest 'business trip' I ended up sleeping in the office and then came straight here; so I'm sorry if I haven't had chance to get my attire all squared away yet."

"Oh," Katie said sheepishly, staring down at her fancy glass table, "I'm sorry I didn't think, I guess…"

"It's ok," I replied gesturing at the chair opposite her, "may I? There's a few things I need you to organise for us if you can."

I was waved into the seat, Katie even managing to look a little bit embarrassed at her rudeness. I doubted we would ever be friends her and me, but we could at least have a working relationship, and if she could pull off the items that I had on my shopping list I would even upgrade that to some personal respect.

"Jesus Campbell you're not asking for much are you?" she exclaimed after I'd been through the long list of things that we had come up with that we thought we needed for the mission; writing on her pad furiously.

"This isn't exactly a trip to the beach for a picnic you know," I said pursing my lips as she tapped at the list in front of her. "Can you do it or not?"

"I might need a bit of help with some of it, but then Bonnie has already volunteered for that; I mentioned it to her last night after we spoke."

"We need it asap Katie, we're running out of time rapidly; the deadline is technically tomorrow."

"I know that Campbell," she snapped before apologising; I understood, it was a tense time for everyone; given that I could let a few digs slide. Chewing the end of her pen thoughtfully Katie picked up her phone and punched in a number, asking someone, presumably Bonnie, to come into her office. Sure enough a minute or so later there was a knock at the door and her harried face appeared.

"Bonnie, Campbell here has got that wish list for us," Katie said as she walked over, thrusting her hastily scribbled paperwork into her hands. "How soon can we get all of this stuff over to India?"

"Discretely," I added, probably unnecessarily.

"That might be tough," Bonnie said thoughtfully as she scanned down the list professionally. "But we have a lot of stuff already there from the demonstrations though. I'd need to check out our inventory and see what's available. If you want these specific rifles I'll have to get them sent direct, as well as the radio gear you're looking for, but we have other rifles handguns and ammunition a plenty as long as you're not that fussy. I can send you a list of what's there in case there's anything that you could use….if I can get these things sent out would it be useful if I labelled it all as being for the demonstrations?"

"I never thought of that," I said nodding, already happy that we'd involved her in the planning, "good thinking Bonnie, that will make it a lot more discrete."

"If you can sort out those items of hardware Bonnie," Katie said nodding her agreement, "and the logistics of getting it up to the testing area, I can focus on seeing what I can do about the rest of Naomi's list."

"Of course I can Mrs Fitch-Brace," Bonnie said with a slight hint of a smile. "Is there anything else I can help organise?"

"If you guys can get us anything close to that list I'll be ecstatic Bon," I said beginning to feel better about the situation, "and the faster the better."

"I'll get right on it Naomi, do you want me to e-mail you that inventory of what we already have out there as soon as I have it."

"Send it to the office and they'll pass it on," I replied.

"Even better send it to mum," Katie interrupted, "that way we can hide it all as part of the demonstrations. I know mum says that she's going to be out there for Emily, but I'm sure business would be a good cover story as well."

"That might just work," I said nodding thoughtfully, "that's really good thinking Katie thank you."

"It was nothing," she said, her cheeks colouring in embarrassment.

"No, it's not, it's a weight off my shoulders," I told her, deciding that a bit of tactical flattery was in order, just like I'd been taught back on my Sergeant's course. "I've been wondering how the fuck we can get this information passed between us without anyone suspecting, Jenna is just perfect for that."

"I'm perfect for what Naomi dear?" Jenna interrupted as she startled us all by walking into the office. "Morning everyone."

"Morning," the chorus of replies rang out before Katie added, "have you heard anything yet mum?"

"Other than I'm apparently perfect Katie," she replied with a tired and somewhat forced smile, "no; nothing yet anyway. I do know that some of Emily's friends in the MOD are pulling a string or two here or there to see if they can't find out where she is but right now I don't know anything more than that."

I suddenly realised that I knew something that they didn't, where Emily was being held. I thought for a second about telling them, but decided on discretion. I could tell Jenna in private, but the other two didn't really need to know; at least not now anyway. An armed incursion into a sovereign nation isn't the sort of thing you advertise and when you tell one person you potentially tell their friends as well. 'Walls have ears' the old wartime motto went, and rightly or wrongly I opted for silence for the time being.

"I wish we knew something," Bonnie added making me feel all the more guilty about my silence, "this knowing nothing is killing me."

"We know she's alive at least," Jenna said, placing her hand on Bonnies shoulder, "and that's better than nothing right now. We have people all over the world trying to help, so we need to be strong and do everything we can to help them."

She caught Bonnie's eye as she spoke, getting a raised eyebrow and a nod in reply.

"Good," she said with a wink, "do what you can my dear, whatever it takes. Now Naomi, what exactly am I perfect for?"

"Acting as a go between for the list I asked Katie for Mrs F," I told her reassuringly. "Bonnie had the great idea of sending anything we needed over as part of the trials that Emily was involved in, and Katie thought that you'd be perfect to pass on where things are, no-one would be surprised if that sort of information came your way. It was worth coming in this morning just for those two sparks of genius."

"Is _that_ why you're here Naomi," Jenna said, exaggerating her understanding just a little. "I did wonder you know, James said you'd be along to pick me up this afternoon after you've taken him to the airport."

"That's right," I said nodding, "right after I've had a shower and packed some things I need, like a good deodorant. What time is the flight out?"

"It's a bit of a late one I'm afraid Naomi, I've got a few people to talk to today, call in a few favours Robert was owed. I don't like it but needs must. We need to be at the airport for about half past six though so we can get the flight out. You know what airports are like for early check-ins."

"All too well Mrs F," I replied thinking of all the travelling Emily and I had done before that final trip to Baghdad. "What time do you want me to pick you up?"

"About five if you don't mind dear, I can make a few calls in the car on the way."

"Works for me," I replied, "could I have a word with you before I go, in private?"

"Of course you can dear, do you want to come along now? If you've finished with Katie and Bonnie that is?"

"I think we're done," I said questioningly, getting nods from the others, "if there's anything else pass the messages through Mrs F as planned; thanks guys."

I left Bonnie and Katie to look over their copy of my list; my original already deleted just in case, and followed Jenna along the corridors to her office, which turned out to be Emily's old one. To my complete lack of surprise we were barely in the door before the questioning began.

"What do you know Naomi? Something's wrong isn't it?"

"Not exactly," I replied tentatively, "I just needed to talk to you about something, save you wasting your time."

She looked at me her face ashen and I realised that she must be thinking the worst. "Not like that," I said quickly, "as far as we know Emily's fine, but we found out where she is last night."

"You found out where she is," she said slowly, almost accusingly, "and why am I only finding this out now?"

"Because we spent the whole night putting a plan together to get her back," I said defensively, "I've only had a couple of hours sleep and I came straight over here after waking up at my desk."

"Oh," she said apologetically, "I'm sorry dear. I'm not quite myself at the moment as you can imagine."

"I think you're fantastic," I told her, meaning it sincerely. "I don't know how you're keeping it together at all right now."

"Probably the same way you are," she said leading me to the sofa in the corner and sitting down, "too much to do to have a breakdown yes?"

"Something like that yes," I agreed as she squeezed my hands tightly.

"So tell me, what have you found out Naomi, and how did you manage it?"

I told her as much as I dared about how I'd discovered where Emily was apparently being held, explaining how we'd discovered the buildings on the internet the night before. In all honesty it was shit news to have to deliver, and I was struggling to keep my voice upbeat while I told her, desperately trying to put some form of positive spin on it.

"I thought you'd need to know so you weren't wasting effort today," I said nodding. "You know make sure the efforts are focussed effectively; but you can't tell anyone we know Jenna, not even Katie. We can't risk _anyone_ finding that out, surprise is our biggest advantage."

"Where is she Naomi?" Jenna demanded, "and why are you still planning this rescue of yours, can't the authorities sort that out; or our people?"

"Not where she is they won't," I said, switching our grips and taking her hands into mine. "From what we've been told they've taken her across the border into Pakistan; you and I both know what that means."

"No-one is going to help her," Jenna said with a tear falling down her cheek, the mask broken for one brief moment.

"Not no-one Jenna, we're going to help her. You, me, James, the guys from the house, we're all going to do our bit to get her back."

"I know Naomi, but I'm still hoping that diplomacy will win out, wherever she is."

"Me too," I replied as Jenna got to her feet and ruffled my hair.

"I know you don't believe that it will Naomi," she said as walked across the office and poured herself a glass of water from a decanter, swallowing it quickly, her hand shaking slightly. "But I have to hope that it can work, I don't want anyone else to get hurt, there have been enough deaths already."

"I understand," I said, suddenly embarrassing myself by yawning loudly. "Excuse me," I apologised quickly, "I didn't mean to…"

"…why don't you go home and get some sleep Naomi?" Jenna interrupted looking at me concernedly. "You look like you really need it and I doubt that you'll be much use to me in this condition."

"Too much to do," I said getting to my feet, "I can try to sleep on the plane, not as if I can make use of that time constructively in any way.

I glanced down at the watch that Emily had bought me, another reminder of what I'd thrown away with my stupidity. "Look Mrs F, I'm sorry but I need to make a move if I'm going to get back to the office to take Cook to the airport. If you don't mind I'll leave you to your diplomatic efforts; good luck."

"Thank you dear," she replied, nodding her dismissal, already reaching for the phone, "you too."

I was collared by Bonnie on my way out, being dragged into Emily's office out of earshot of the staff that were now milling around the busy office. With the door firmly closed I was handed a piece of paper with a long printed list on it. As I scanned down the items I resisted the urge to hug her there and then, settling instead for a smile and a wink.

"That's a great start Bon," I told her as I tucked the list away safely, thinking it would give Cook and the guys something useful to read on the flight, "thank you. Will you make sure Jenna has a copy too?"

"It's nothing Naomi," she replied reaching out and suddenly hugging me despite my dishevelled state, "and I will; but will you promise me you'll be careful over there."

"I'll do my best," I said wondering exactly what I should be doing with my hands right now; deciding on an awkward pat on the back would be for the best. "I don't think I can promise anything though."

"Well don't do anything stupid then," she said letting me go with tears in her eyes, "try and be careful."

"I can do that," I said with a broad wink, "it'll be ok Bon, couple of days and she'll be home driving you mad with work again."

"You really think so Naomi?" she asked, her face looking pained.

"You've got to trust your old Sarn't Campbell kid," I said cuffing her arm and faking a joviality I didn't feel as I repeated words I'd once told Emily and a dozen other people, "I don't think I know."

o+o+o

I was feeling distinctly past my best as I helped Cook and the boys with their gear out of the car and onto a trolley at Heathrow. Once I'd escaped Fitch Industries I'd headed back to the office, making it back far earlier than I'd expected and using the time to review the plans one more time. To my surprise Cook had somehow managed to get some high quality aerial photographs of the buildings that were our target, photographs so good it made me suspicious as to how he had got them, and by whom they had been taken.

It was definitely a start though; things were starting to move along, albeit slowly. It was going too slowly for my liking if I was absolutely honest, and I was desperately trying not to let my mind wander to what might be happening to Emily in that building; and the sorts of physical and mental trauma's that she might be being subjected to.

That was far too much for my mind to bear, and I buried myself in planning and organising in a desperate attempt to push those thoughts away.

As we were leaving Cook got an e-mail confirming that Mel and Chris had arrived in New Delhi and had set up their unofficial 'Ops Centre' in their hotel room; what was really satisfying was that the message also said that they'd already made contact with some of the people we needed help from, and so far things were looking good.

It was the calm that existed before the storm hit, and if I had my way the whirlwind we would be bringing would be devastating for the fuckers that had taken my girl.

"You know where you're staying when you get there Naomi?" James said as I slammed the back of the X5 and turned to the three of them to say goodbye.

"Not got a clue boss," I replied shrugging, "but I assume Jenna has all that in hand."

"Send Mel an email before you fly," he said sternly, "she'll need to know where you are so we can get your phone to you."

"I've already told her boss," I replied rolling my eyes that he'd believed my little lie, "seriously what do you take me for?"

"Someone that looks like they need some serious sleep," he replied swinging an arm at my head jokingly. "Make sure you get some, we're going to need to get an early start tomorrow and there's no window for errors, don't forget you're going to lose some sleep because of the time difference."

"I'll sleep on the flight boss, I've got some of Emily's tablets still from when we flew to the US, I'll take one of those once we take off and crash out."

"Good, I'm going to need your 'A' game again Blondie, and this time it's for real."

"Not a problem boss, I'll be ready, make sure you and these layabouts are sober when I get there or I'll be kicking ass and taking names like I did in the old days, you hear?"

"No fear of that my friend," Cook replied with a smile, offering his fist for the seemingly obligatory fist-bump. "I'm all business right now; see you in a few hours Blondie, drive carefully y'hear?"

I nodded my farewells as the three of them waved and walked away, heading for the airport without a second look at me. For a second I wished I was going with them, on the early part of the mission where they would be sorting out the logistics, and the contacts and everything we needed to get the mission ready to go. I wanted the excitement of planning, organising, getting set up; the normal preparations for war. Instead I was nannying my new package around and keeping her safe; what felt like yet another milk run mission.

I knew it was a foolish thought, I knew that my part of the mission was as vital as theirs; but all the same it frustrated me. I wanted to be doing something more than I was and as I climbed into the X5 and slammed the door I knew that most of all I wanted to be either 'on mission' with my mind or bringing Emily home; that particular day couldn't come soon enough for me.

I sat in the car for a while, my mind betraying my control as I stared at the endless stream of planes that were taking off and landing, packed with business people whose only care was that their meetings had gone successfully and if their latest deal had gone well. Or perhaps filled with holidaymakers; overly excited at the thought of two weeks in the sun. Or coming back with scorched skin and minds filled with memories.

Their life was so different to mine, to Cooks, and Simon's and Andy's. They could sit back in their seats and worry about nothing but the mundane, not having to consider that somewhere in a building in a small corner of Pakistan, two people were, unknowingly, depending on them to save their lives; to rescue them from the torment and pain they were almost certainly suffering. Two people that included a petite redhead that had totally stolen my heart.

It was a dark thought, for a dark time and I snatched at the keys to start the engine as my mind played images of the bound and battered Emily; beaten but almost certainly not broken. I muttered a promise into the air as I watched the planes soar into the cloudless sky; a promise and indeed a request.

"Stay alive Emily, stay _fucking_ alive….I _will_ find you, I _will_ get you home safe and sound; whatever it _fucking_ takes, whatever the cost."


	73. Ballbreaker'

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a large amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness and a really, really bad temper.

**Chapter 73 – 'Ballbreaker'**

It felt weird letting myself into Emily's flat without her with me. I couldn't think of a time when I had ever been here on my own, and the emptiness was absolute, the stillness unreal. Ever since my first vising here the flat had been filled with some sort of noise, even if it was nothing but the sound of Emily's breathing as we sat in silence together.

I was planning on going back to the apartment where I'd been staying, grabbing my meagre belongings, the ones I'd taken with me. Instead I'd driven from the airport to St John's Wood and the flat where it had all truly begun all those months ago, in a momentary lapse when I shared far too much of myself to a scared woman in a darkened bedroom.

So much had happened since those fateful days; it felt like we had lived an entire lifetime in the few short months when we had gone from opponents to friends to lovers. An entire, lifetime filled with pain and misery but most of all happiness. If there was one thing I wanted from this mission it was a return to the happiness I had discovered being with the whirlwind that was Emily Victoria Fitch.

I stood in the kitchen making a cup of tea, my hair wet and wrapped in a towel, clothed only in a robe. I'd taken my much needed shower only after I'd filled my travel case with the essentials that I needed for the trip, a couple of changes of clothes, underwear, shoes and the combat gear that Emily and Jenna had left out for me on the bed at Fitch Manor, fear that I had used to great effect in the US; that I hoped to use in the same way on our little rescue mission, if it was needed. I decided that I would wear the boots under the dark suit I'd opted to wear to escort Jenna to India; the last thing I needed was for some overzealous security officer to see them in my bag at the airport, start digging through my things and find the rest of my kit, and as a bonus they were extremely comfortable; my feet absolutely loved them, and if they did get uncomfortable on the plane I'd take them off…fuck the people around me.

Drink sorted, even if the milk was smelling a little close to turning, I sat down on the sofa with it, staring at the picture of me, Whitey and the boys; the picture that Emily had placed in full view for me to make me feel at home in her flat. I was still staring at the picture, lost in my thoughts my tea gone cold when my phone rang, startling me back to reality.

"Close Protection, Naomi Campbell speaking," I said flatly, no trace of the false voice left.

"Sarge, its JJ how are you?"

"LT," I said blinking in surprise, "what the hell are you calling for, you're supposed to be resting."

It was true, Cook had wanted JJ to conference call into our meeting the previous evening, but after half an hour on the phone he had been unceremoniously dragged from the call by a grumpy sounding Lara.

"I _have_ been resting Sarge," he said sounding affronted, "I've been doing nothing _but_ resting since the sodding operation; anyway I wanted to know how you were and how things are going, I didn't get much time to talk to you all last night and no other fucker is answering their phones."

"I'm fine, and things are on track," I said with a smile, "everyone's happy so far, and Cook and the boys are off on their jolly's already so that's why they're not replying to you LT, don't take it personally."

"I won't Sarge you cheeky twat," he laughed, a good sound despite the circumstances, "That's good news then, what about everything else."

"On the go," I replied, not in the slightest bit surprised that he knew everything that was going on, despite missing the bulk of the conference cal. Crippled or not the LT was a sharp cookie, and I knew Cook relied on him an awful lot and would have updated him somehow so he could get his opinion.

"That's even better news Sarge," he said approvingly, "any news on the political front?"

"Not that I know of," I told him, hearing the sigh at the other end of the line.

"That's what I was afraid of, though it is of course early days," he added, as if trying to bolster my spirits.

"It is LT," I replied, "the fuckers did set a stupidly tight deadline though, and politicians aren't known for moving quickly."

"That deadline is bullshit Sarge, they just want to see how high people jump at their threats, you know that."

"Yeah, I hope so LT, I really fucking do."

We chatted for a while, discussing the security for the trip and my thoughts on keeping Jenna secure. We deliberately didn't discuss the kidnapping, or the mission; conscious that the authorities may have tagged us for 'observation' given the situation we were in; however before he hung up the LT gave me food for thought.

"How do you feel about this trip Sarge?" he asked out of the blue, surprising me more than a little; the LT hadn't ever been one for discussing feelings.

"How do you mean LT?"I asked tentatively, wondering where he was going with this.

"Your famous gut Sarge; what's your gut telling you about all this?"

"Nothing good LT," I admitted, "I don't like the situation one little bit; personally and professionally if you know what I mean, and my gut agrees with me."

"I understand," he replied sadly. "Look Sarge, if you have any doubts about what you're going to do, any doubts at all…just think about the 'ballbreaker' mission ok? You do remember that don't you?"

"I don't think I'll ever forget it LT," I said nodding away despite the fact that he couldn't see me.

"Nor me Sarge," he replied quietly, "nor me. But that worked out ok, and that's what we've got to believe will happen now."

o+o+o

_Date: _xxx-classified-xxx_ – Location: _xxx-classified-xxx_, near-Basra, Iraq_

"_So what do you think of the mission Sarge?"_

"_I think it's going to be a fucking ballbreaker Sir."_

'_Grouch' Langdon pretty much summed up my thoughts as the fresh faced young Lieutenant outlined the plan on the table in front of us._

"_I tend to agree Sarge," Jones said nodding, "Corporal, your thoughts?"_

"_I think this isn't our job Sir," I said shaking my head, "we're supposed to be a protection unit not an assault team."_

"_I agree with that too," Jones replies scratching his freshly shorn head, the light curls gone under the blade of a classic number one all over. I assumed it was because someone, probably Grouch, had told him about the comments that the boys had been saying and the nickname Whitey had given him._

"_Unfortunately," he continued with a shrug, "this is the mission we've been asked to complete. So let's get it done, any questions?"_

"_No Sir," we replied formally as he swept up the intel' and filed it away in the locked cabinet stood next to the wall of the tent. _

"_Right then, go brief your people guys, we ship out in three hours."_

_Grouch and I saluted smartly and filed out of the tent, blinking as the morning sun hit our eyes. "What do you reckon to that Snowy?" he asked as we walked across the dusty compound._

"_Sounds like a ballbreaker Sarge," I replied with a grin; getting a cuff on the back of the head for my troubles. "Seriously though I'm not happy, this isn't our speciality."_

"_You scared of some real combat Snowy? Life got too comfortable escorting around VIP's?"_

"_You know better than that Sarge," I told him, knowing that he did as well. I'd been champing at the bit to see action from the second I'd landed; well once he'd managed to break me of the nerves I'd faced after the mortar attack that had shook me to the core. _

_My first taste of real combat had given me the nickname that I wore proudly, and I'd been at the forefront of every mission from that day onwards. Part of it was a drive to be the best, part of it was a need to prove myself every single day. I'd won over most of the squad, but there was always that nagging feeling that I wasn't quite there yet; perhaps this mission was a chance to finally break the barriers and show them that I was a worthy member of the CPU._

"_Yeah well, don't go getting all giddy on me because you've got your stripe now_ Corporal_ Campbell," he said, referring to my "still wet" promotion, barely a few days old. "We still do this by the numbers yes? Slow and low?"_

"_You got it Sarge," I replied to our units little saying; bumping fists with him as we walked up to the awnings that the rest of our motley bunch were using as shade from the summer sun. "Low and slow."_

"'_Nappy' said we're doing what?" Whitey exclaimed as Grouch explained the mission to the team, before yelping in pain as I kicked him squarely in the small of the back with the toe of my combat boot. "Ow! What the fuck was that for Snowy?"_

"_Have a little respect Whitey," I told him; his use of Lieutenant Jones' nickname of 'nappy', or 'nappy-rash' infuriating me at Grouch's briefing, especially from him. It wasn't the nickname as such that annoyed me, that was something we all used behind his back; it was more the lack of respect to his rank in a formal briefing that offended me. I guess so soon after my own promotion I was a little sensitive to things like that. _

"_Just behave ok?" I added to make the point, "Listen up this is important."_

_He turned to look at me, eyebrow raised. I met his look with one of my own, hoping that he'd take the hint and shut the fuck up. Thankfully he winked and turned his attention to Grouch who was looking at him in disgust._

"_If you've quite finished fucking about White," he said shaking his head, "I'll complete this briefing, we don't have a lot of time to get organised and _Lieutenant Jones _wants us ready in three hours which means that _I_ want you ready for inspection in two."_

_Grouch went through the plan in detail, explaining every single part and every single persons role as we prepared to breach and enter the building. Ten minutes and only a handful of questions later we were done, with only one last word from Grouch to inspire us._

"_That's the plan girls," he said straightening and dusting himself down. "As they say in the movies boys and girls, shit's just got real; don't fucking let me down ok?"_

"_Yes Sarge," we replied as one to his question._

"_Well don't just sit there like wankers then, get a fucking move on!"_

_We fell out with the normal good natured grumbling of a unit that had been ordered to do anything in the heat of the Iraqi sun. Whitey and I exchanged few words as we began sorting through our equipment, getting it ready for the mission, No-one said much really, no one seemed to want to; you could feel the tension in the air._

"_Ballbreaker huh Snowy?" he said eventually as we sat slotting rounds into our spare magazines, possibly one of the dullest chores since painting rocks was invented by a bored officer._

"_That's what Grouch called it mate," I told him slotting another mag into my pouch and fastening it closed._

"_What would you call it _Corporal_ Campbell?" He asked, scuffing dirt over my boots, grinning all the way._

"_I'd call it a ballbreaker too _Lance-Corporal_ White," I said scowling at him as I shook the sand from out of my lace holes. _

"_What does that gut of yours tell you though?"_

_I thought about it for a second or two, I didn't actually have much of a feeling about the mission, my tell-tale gut instinct failing me for once. I guess if I was forced to make a decision I'd have said I was faintly positive._

"_It's not saying much mate," I replied with a frown, "but I am a little concerned…this type of mission isn't really what we're about…and there's more than an element of risk involved here."_

"_That's true, but we are fucking good at it though mate," he said with an excited gleam in his eye, "we've kicked in doors before you and I."_

"_Never on this scale though," I said shrugging, "this isn't a room with a few miserable street fighters in it, this is a fucking bomb factory Paul; they're bound to be well armed and you can bet they're not going to go down without a fight."_

"_Good," he said firmly, getting up and zipping his vest closed. "I fucking hope they don't; about time we gave those fuckers some payback for those roadside bombs. If I had it my way we'd call in a fucking airstrike and JDAM the fucking place flat, kill the fucking lot of them."_

"_Me too," I replied nodding, "a couple of thousand pounders would sort this shit out good and proper; but 'Nappy' says the brass want as many of them as we can take alive, especially the fucking technicians that are making the bombs. Apparently the cloak and dagger brigade want some of these twats to interrogate."_

"_I'll fucking interrogate them," Whitey said pulling a non-regulation blade from a pouch strapped to the top of his vest and swishing it side to side threateningly. "I guarantee that they'll sing like canaries when I cut their fucking balls off."_

"_Nice image dickhead," I joked, raising an eyebrow at his posturing, though secretly wishing that's exactly what the Intelligence boys would do to them. We'd lost a lot of people over here to those fucking roadside bombs, though thankfully no one in my unit to date. _

_Superstitiously I tapped the side of my head as I thought it, "touching wood" the CPU way. Seconds later Whitey did the same thing, causing us both to laugh; we were cut from the same cloth me and him, we thought the same way._

_The tension levels increased as we decamped our vehicles in a small square a couple of streets over from the suspected bomb factory. To all intents and purposes we looked like any normal patrol, splitting into a standard formation on both sides of the road, hugging the buildings and providing cover for each other past doorways and windows; always watching, always ready for danger. We were deliberately moving away from the target building, trying to allay suspicious by hitting it on our way back rather than heading straight there. _

_It was 'Nappy's' idea, and though technically it put us at greater risk in the long run we hoped that by the time we got around to the target location we'd be pretty much undetected. Well, as undetected as sixteen squaddies in full combat gear can be in the outskirts of Basra._

_Twenty five minutes later we'd split into two eight man columns, taking different streets to surreptitiously surround the building. Normally this sort of mission would be done in the dead of night, but that wouldn't fit the plan, and risked discovery, so it was with a tentative step I led my column down the sun drenched street towards the large double doors that were our primary entry point._

"_Section 2 ready," I said into the microphone of my Bowman system, hoping to fuck that it gave me no problems this time around._

"_Roger that," I heard Grouch reply, "Section 1 ready too; breach in thirty from my mark…three, two, one, mark!"_

_I waved at the guys, to get into position weapons at the ready. By the time my watch reached fifteen seconds we were set up and ready to breach._

"_Go, go, go!" I heard over the headset, shouting it to my team as soon as I heard the first Go. Within the blink of an eye Whitey and I had kicked in the doors and we were inside; screaming voices and the sound of flash bangs adding to the chaos of the action, the people inside totally stunned. We were the picture of efficiency as sixteen trained troops blitzed the building, sweeping and clearing room by room and floor by floor; and, with only a few short bursts of gunfire to signal the presence of a hostile with a death wish, we were done._

"_Clear," I heard called from all around the building, only half listening as I tried to concentrate on the orders being barked out from Grouch over the comm's system._

"_I want a perimeter set up around the building like yesterday. Snowy take some of your guys and secure your street, and tell that twat White to get in here; we need to get through to brigade and tell them we hit the jackpot here."_

"_Yes Sarge," I replied, barking out orders of my own as soon as I was done. With a slap on the back Whitey was gone, heading into the building to meet up with Sarge and Jones. There were a few more bursts of gunfire as I organised my lads, covering the outside and inside of the building; I shrugged of the sound, it was just another thing you got used to on operations, and as long as it wasn't the sound of an AK I was hearing, it wasn't something I was worried about._

_Two hours later and we were on our way home, the mission a success and not an injury to anyone in the team. There was a guarded sense of joviality in the back of the truck I was travelling in; we all knew we weren't 'safe' until we got through the gates of the base, but there was that confused feeling of relief, disappointment and adrenaline pumping through all of us._

"_So much for a fucking ballbreaker mission Snowy'" Paul said, stretching out his leg and resting his boot on the bench next to me. "Piece of fucking piss that."_

"_Could have gone worse," I admitted, "looks like 'nappy-face' has finally come of age."_

"_Yeah, the LT came up with a great plan," he replied, causing me to raise my eyebrow in surprise. "What?" he exclaimed as he saw my look._

"_The LT? Not like you to be so respectful White."_

"_Well, he did a good job," Whitely protested as the rest of the guys looked at him and grinned, "and I don't want you to kick me again you heavy footed twat. My back still fucking hurts and my bollocks are within range of that boot of yours."_

"_Not to mention the fact that Jones shot up a rag that was about to nail him," Chunks added, getting a glare from Whitey at the revelation. "Saved the boy's life he did."_

"_So the boss saved your life then Paul?" I asked, fighting back a laugh that was desperate to get out. "Doesn't that mean you're his slave or something from now on? Going to be polishing his boots with your tongue from now on, or is it something more?" _

"_Oh fuck you Snowy," he grinned, "in fact fuck the lot of you, no-one's going to kill me, I'm fucking indestructible."_

"_Me too mate," I laughed finally, the last bits of tension of the mission evaporating under his endless good cheer, "me fucking too!"_

o+o+o

I thought about the mission as I dressed in one of the suits I'd left behind at Emily's when I'd left. _'…that worked out ok,' _the LT had said before he said goodbye; he'd been right as well, right with the original plan and right about the fact that it had worked out ok.

Careful planning, a bit of lateral thinking and some real skills had turned a dangerous situation into what was, in hindsight, almost a routine mission. He hadn't just mentioned it by chance though; I knew that; no he was trying to tell me to trust myself, and my instincts. Something that I was normally very good at; or at least I had been, until that cold day in Kandahar anyway, the day it first let me down.

The more I thought about it the better I felt, the LT's reminder was a very well played tactic. Sometimes the worst sounding missions could work, and this one was just the same; we would make it work because we had to, and because we were fucking good at what we did. We might not be the best, but we would be more than enough for the scumbags that did nothing but ambush the innocent; innocents like my girl.

As I got up from the sofa, my phone rang again, yet another unknown number flashing on the screen. With a sigh I jabbed at the answer button and lifted it to my head.

"Close Protection Naomi Campbell speaking," I said again, my voice sounding more like it used to; meaning fucking awful.

"Naomi dear it's Jenna Fitch." I heard the familiar voice say, "Have I caught you at a bad time?"

"Not at all Jenna, I said quickly, my heart beating faster, "what's happened?"

"There's been a slight change of plan dear, where are you right now?"

"I'm at Emily's flat getting some things," I stammered, "what's happened Jenna, why the change of plans."

"Nothing has happened dear," she said soothingly, "I just need to leave a lot earlier than expected, almost immediately in fact; and I wanted to meet up with you wherever you are."

"You want me to come and get you?" I asked, already heading into the bedroom and sorting through my things."

"No, I don't think so Naomi dear, it's probably best if Richard brings me over to you. Will you be ready in say, twenty minutes?"

"Easily," I told her, pulling my underwear on as quickly as I could with the phone cradled against my ear by my shoulder.

"Good, I'll call you when we pull up…Naomi, make sure you have everything for the trip, your passport and luggage etc; we won't be coming back after my meeting. Richard will be taking us straight to the airport…I think this might be a long one."

"I'll be ready," I said, biting back the questions my curiosity wanted me to ask; seeing them as an unnecessary waste of time right now. "I'll be waiting outside for you."

"Thank you dear; see you in a few minutes then."

Hastily I sprayed myself with deodorant and pulled on my shirt and suit, fumbling with the buttons as I dressed as quickly as I could. I stared at my hair in disgust as I flustered my way through putting on make-up. I'd allowed it to dry naturally and to say that it looked a bit of a mess was an understatement; in fact I looked like a fucking scarecrow. Determined not to travel like a scruffy twat I hunted for my straighteners, only to remember that they were currently located in the bottom of my bag, next to my travel adaptor. I was about to give up when I noticed a familiar zip-up bag on the side of the dresser, Emily had clearly forgotten to take her set with her, though I guess that would be the least of her worries right now.

Carefully I took them out of the bag, hunting for the part that actually would allow me to straighten my hair. I couldn't help but notice that they still had the attachment that gave Emily the bouncing curls I loved to see her in, remembering as I looked at it the first time I'd seen then, during that brief happy time in the US when we were getting ready for the big night out.

With a deep breath I pulled myself together, I didn't have time for daydreaming about things like that; I was on a deadline, and I needed to get my shit together before I let Jenna down for the second, or was that third time? I fought with the stupid machine, finally getting it set up how I needed it; I swear the fucker was more complicated than my old C8-CQB; and, as I burnt myself again, about as fucking dangerous.

'_Come here, let me do that for you before you set fire to yourself'_ Emily had teased me in the early days of our 'relationship', where we were both still feeling out what we did, or didn't have. She'd volunteered to style my hair a lot after that, putting herself out to help me. She'd been pretty fucking amazing to me I had to admit, light years different from Amy; Emily was caring, understanding and supportive. I know she still had issues with people in the Forces, but she'd allowed me to show her that we're not all the same…

…and I'd rewarded her by freaking out and treating her like shite. I had become what I hated, a selfish fucking bitch; I had become Amy.

I dragged the hot plates through my dry hair angrily, the pain as they tugged their way through it feeling good as I tried to assuage my guilt through my own form of scourging. It didn't take too long to begin looking, at least on the surface, normal and professional again; but still I dragged my hair back into a pony tail, happy that it was now long enough to pull that trick off and not look totally stupid.

Double checking that everything was off, unplugged, and that the flat was secure I pulled on my jacket; and, just as I was about to put my hand on my bag my phone went again, I was half way out of the door when I answered it, expecting it to be Jenna.

"I'm on my way down now," I said, shuffling with phone and lock and bag.

"Fascinating," a familiar female voice said, "should I ask on whom?"

"Funny," I replied, not seeing the funny side of her quip, "what do you want?"

"Well there's gratitude for you," the voice said, sounding affronted, "I go out of my way to do you a favour Campbell, and you talk to me like that."

"Well it was a pretty insulting comment Mrs Fitch-Brace, especially when I could have been overheard by someone."

I hoped that she would take the hint; as I'd briefed both her and Bonnie on the need for secrecy, especially over the telephone. I'm sure she thought that I was being totally paranoid, but advising her that everyone's life was on the line, especially Emily's, seemed to convince her to play along.

"I was having a joke Campbell, chill out," she replied, in what was as close to an apology as I was ever likely to get. "Anyway I haven't got all day and neither have you. Mum told me to say she's on the way to pick you up and that you had better be bloody ready."

I sighed as I opened the door to the stairwell, forced to take the stairs, rather than the lift, in order to keep my phone signal; it was funny, but the last time I took this stairwell I was being ushered down it by armed police officers, chasing Emily down and into the waiting car. There wasn't a part of my life that hadn't been touched in some way by her, even the bloody stairs on which I walked.

"I am ready Mrs Fitch-Brace," I replied as I took the stairs two at a time, case slung over my shoulder. "Or I will be in a second when I get downstairs."

"Is that what you're doing, I was wondering," came the amused reply, "anyway that's not the only reason I called. Mum is going to be trying to keep our deal alive while she's over there and I need you to make sure things are organised at their end."

"I'm there as a CPO Mrs Fitch-Brace, not as a sales rep for Fitch Industries," I replied carefully, hoping that I was reading her message correctly.

"Yes, but as Mum knows fuck all about the sort of hardware we use, and you do I thought you might do us all a favour. I've sent mum a list of all the new equipment that we're supplying for the next round of demonstrations; I need you to help her Campbell, you owe us remember?"

"That's hardly a diplomatic way of asking for a favour Mrs Fitch-Brace," I replied, smiling at the message she was sending me.

"No, but then I'm not a diplomatic person Campbell as you already know." I could almost see the smug little smile she was no doubt wearing on her face while she said that. However she wasn't quite finished. "So, Campbell, we understand each other yes? You're going to do this for us?"

"Yes Mrs Fitch-Brace we understand each other," I said nodding involuntarily as I pushed my way through the fire door at the bottom of the stairwell and through into reception. "I'll help out with the demonstration equipment."

"Good, well I'm busy trying to save my sister and our business Campbell so I'll leave it with you, don't fuck it up, mum's going to need your help."

"Message received and understood," I said, fighting back a smirk; especially as I could see Richard's car turning the corner into the street just as I walked outside. Katie Fitch-Brace was a smart cookie and I doubted anyone that may have been eavesdropping on our call could have got anything else from it; especially with that level of contempt on display. I'd enjoyed the cleverness of her call, but I bet she'd enjoyed talking to me like that even more.

"Oh and Campbell?" Katie added just as I was about to hang up, Jenna waving as me as Richard popped the boot of his car for me to put my case in.

"I'm here," I replied with a grunt as I lifted the heavy bag.

"Don't lose my mother as well as my sister; if you do, don't fucking bother coming back."

The line went dead as she delivered her warning, and I had no doubt that's what it was. Despite the fact that her earlier contempt was part of her tactics to hide our plan, I knew when it came to her mother's safety she was deadly serious.

"Problem dear?" Jenna asked as I climbed into the passenger seat of Richard's car.

"Just chatting to your daughter," I said, turning around in my seat to look at her. "You know? The less charming one."

"Ah, I did ask her to give you a call and let you know I was nearly here, I had another, rather important, call come in while I was on the phone to her."

"Yeah, she sort of told me that some of the things I want are on the way over too," I replied nodding, "and she told me I wasn't to lose you while we are over there, told me not to bother coming home if I did."

"That explains that look you had on your face when you got in then dear," Jenna said laughing. "You do know that she's just posturing don't you? She wouldn't hurt a fly really."

"Tell that to my cheek," I said, raising my eyebrow and smirking at her, "she might hit like a girl, but she's still pretty strong."

"Well she does have to keep that husband of hers in check," Jenna said with a wink, "and he is a bit of a handful."

I didn't comment on that, turning back around when Jenna's phone started ringing; I didn't turn my ears around though, listening carefully to the half of the conversation that I could hear. It didn't get me anywhere, Jenna's cryptic comments a master class in evasion. Cruelly I wondered if all those years of hiding her relationship with Colin was what made her so good at speaking without letting slip to a casual, or not so casual, eavesdropper what she really meant.

It wasn't a nice thought, but then, I'd been trained to think that way, look for the liars and the deliberate deceivers; I had been good at it too, though being a lifelong deceiver in so many ways I guess that was a given.

I was surprised when we got to our destination, Barry and Pugin's gothic masterpiece on the banks of the Thames. Security was tighter than a ducks arse as we were checked and double checked before we were allowed to drive through the checkpoint; the car searched inside and out before the armed Police waved us through. I had no idea what strings Jenna had pulled to get us in here; I didn't even know it was possible. I guess being the sole owner of a multi-million pound arms business got you a few favours, especially if your daughter had just been kidnapped.

We were searched again as we entered the building, far away from where the public were allowed to go. This was the working side of the Palace of Westminster and I wondered exactly who it was we were going to see.

"Mrs Fitch?" a stuffy sounding man in classic civil service black asked, appearing from a doorway like the shopkeeper from Mr Benn. "Come this way, the Minister will see you now."

We followed the suit down a tiled corridor, flanked on both sides by wood panelling and paintings to a large wooden door which opened into what I assumed was a small ante-room, another door at the far side of the room clearly visible.

"If you would wait here Mrs Fitch, I'll see if the Minister is ready to see you."

"Minister?" I whispered as soon as the suit's back was turned, "why are we here Mrs F?"

"I've been summoned for a meeting dear," she replied explaining just how wrong I'd been in thinking that _she'd_ arranged this visit; "I just hope he's got some good news for me."

o+o+o

Twenty minutes later and I was beginning to seethe; we were still sat in the ante-room, nothing but a couple of chairs and a desk for company. I was beginning to worry that we'd miss our flight, just like Emily and I had when we'd been left stewing in exactly the same way by the wanker at the MoD.

I knew why they were doing it, we'd done the same thing when questioning people in the RMP, it was about establishing a level of power, and I knew it wasn't a good sign.

Five minutes later, and just when I thought Jenna was about ready to get up and walk out, the door opened and the suit appeared; ushering her in as if she had been keeping _them_ waiting not the other way around. As she stood up I went to follow her only to be halted in my tracks by the snooty little fuck in front of me.

"I'm afraid this is a _private_ meeting," he said closing the door behind Jenna. "_You_ can continue to wait in here."

I resisted the urge to smash his head through the panels of the door, instead smiling "sweetly" while allowing my eyes to tell him just how close to death he had come.

I continued to stare at him as I stood by the chairs, trying to provide enough energy to make his greasy hair combust with the power of my mind alone. I enjoyed the feeling of watching him shift uncomfortably in his seat as I glared, snatching the balance of power from his hands without a word. After another five minutes of our contest, me glaring and him trying to avoid my glares, a buzzer on his desk shattered the silence.

"Yes Minister?" He said, picking up his phone. I bit back a laugh at his statement, the whole place was a fucking cliché and 'Yes Minister' was one step into cliché too far for me.

"Of course Minister, right away," the grease-ball said obsequiously, putting the phone down with a flourish and finally meeting my glare. "The Minister asks if you would step through, he has something to discuss with you."

I glanced at my watch and tutted, determined to keep this little weasel on his toes. "Well tell him he'd better be quick then," I said frowning, "Mrs Fitch and I are extremely busy you know."

He scowled at me and opened the door, popping inside before appearing once more and shooing me in, his hand flapping wildly.

"Wave at me like that again son," I whispered angrily; leaning in to him as I walked past, making sure only he could hear me, "and I'll rip it fucking off and make you eat it."

The door closed with a thump as he vanished, making me smile briefly in satisfaction; the smile vanishing as the Minister looked up, I'd seen him before, though I doubt he'd remember me. Before the election was finally organised in May he'd come visiting the base at Laskar Gah and my unit been pulled in to assist his security team; just another Paliamentary wannabe using the troops to boost his image before an election. As far as I was concerned he was a typical Tory, a pompous, self-righteous Eton-boy and I hadn't voted for him, hadn't voted for anyone come to think of it; this time around I was so disillusioned by the lot of them I couldn't be arsed.

Undaunted by his 'down-the-nose' look I decided on a bit of show and practically marched across the wooden floor, my boots making a satisfying thud as I drove down my heels; coming to an at ease position next to and slightly behind Jenna's seat.

"Ah, Miss…..Campbell," he said referring to a piece of paper in front of him. "I see you used to serve in our forces."

"Sir," I replied, falling into the old way of addressing people like him easily, hoping it would put him off his stride. "I was in the Royal Military Police, with a secondment to the Close Protection Unit."

"So I see," he replied looking down again, "and what is your involvement in this matter?"

"This matter Sir?" I asked, attempting the classic squaddies approach of playing dumb in a way that can't get you bollocked.

"This Fitch matter Miss Campbell, this rather, well, delicate situation."

"I work for the Fitch's," I replied my blood beginning to boil at his casual indifference. I didn't expect real concern from him, but a little bit of consideration and empathy wouldn't have gone amiss in my opinion, fuck knows what Jenna thought of it all.

"Well, technically I work for a company called Close Protection," I corrected myself, "but we're contracted to provide the Fitch family their personal protection."

"Ah yes, Close Protection," he mused without looking up, "Close Protection…yes…tell me Miss Campbell, why precisely have five of your colleagues, including this Mr Cook, left the country at short notice heading for India for no valid reason?"

I nearly lost my cool there, the insufferable little twat was actually questioning our actions. Desperately trying to calm myself I stuck to the cover story we'd agreed, a cover story that was more than a little bit true.

"I don't know what you mean Sir," I replied shortly, putting as much 'polite contempt' as Whitey used to call it into my voice. "_Perhaps_ it might be because we lost a lot of our people out there in the attack, and we need to organise to bring them home to their families; not to mention the fact that we need trained CPO's to cover the staff that Fitch Industries have left behind or are sending out to continue their business over there. I suppose that includes bringing _their_ dead home too."

"Ah," he said, still staring at that stupid file on his desk, "indeed."

I had the sudden urge to jump across the desk and knock him the fuck out; in fact there were only two reasons that stopped me indulging myself. Firstly, Jenna was still sitting there calmly, probably because she needed all the diplomatic help she could get right now, and secondly I couldn't exactly help get Emily back if I was locked up for assault, and that was unacceptable.

"Miss Campbell," he said suddenly looking up and making eye contact. "Am I right in saying that you're also travelling to India today, along with Mrs Fitch here?"

"That's correct yes, Mrs Fitch has asked me to accompany her as her CPO."

"No other reasons?" he asked smugly and I knew what he was asking.

"Well yes," I replied calmly, digging my thumbnail into the palm of my hand as a release for the anger I felt. "But I don't believe _personal_ matters need to be discussed here; in fact I'm not precisely sure what _is_ going on here Sir, is there a point to this interrogation?"

"What is going on here Miss Campbell is Her Majesty's Government raising its collective eyebrows at a group of trained mercenaries leaving the country merely hours after Miss Emily Fitch was taken captive by a terrorist group. We are not stupid Miss Campbell, we see these things and we wonder 'what exactly is going on there?' do you have anything to say to that?"

"Only that it's normal, Sir," I said, spitting out the title, "and I take offence to your comments; we are most certainly _not_ mercenaries. We are professionals that still have a job to do, we have our own people to collect and bury, we have Mrs Fitch's people to protect; and, as I'm sure Mrs Fitch has told you, we have people to meet in order to try and get her daughter and her colleague back. I thought Her Majesty's Government would have been supportive of that aim."

"Of course the safety Miss Fitch and Mr Bartlett is of great concern to us," he said unconvincingly, getting to his feet to stare across at me. "However we do will not tolerate any interference from any vigilante groups to our efforts, or those of the local authorities we will be working with. We really must insist that you and your colleagues return home immediately."

"That's not going to happen Sir," I told him, "as I said earlier we have a job to do; and, as you've implied, I have rather personal reason for wanting to help get Emily home."

"Her Majesty's Government will do all it can to help Miss Fitch…"

"…Well, you will; short of actually _doing_ anything to help Minister," Jenna interrupted also getting to her feet. "I think this charade has gone on long enough, I came here as a courtesy Minister, and because I thought you might have had something to share."

The Ministers eyes shifted from mine to hers, yet one more gladiatorial contest I knew he was doomed to lose as she stared back at him, her back ramrod straight.

"If _Her Majesty's_ _Government_," she continued pointedly, "cannot offer anything more than this to my family then I am extremely disappointed in it; and I if this is indeed the case then I can assure you that the campaign contributions my late husband made to your party will not be forthcoming in future. Naomi, I believe we have a plane to catch."

"With that she turned and swept imperiously from the room, hauling open the door and brushing past the weasel. Hurriedly he scurried after her as she tried to leave, explaining that she needed an escort to take her back to the entrance.

With a knowing smirk, I did his job for him, closing the door, taking the opportunity to sneer at the Minister behind his wide fancy desk. He didn't look quite so self-assured as he had when he was sat behind it, just like his assistant hadn't when I'd pulled the rug from under his feet as well.

Jenna Fitch was truly a legend, and there was no doubt in my mind where her daughters got their power from; Rob had been an amateur compared to her, merely playing at being in charge. Jenna Fitch was the real deal, and I wanted no-one else at the helm of this side mission; if anyone could get Emily back without a shot being fired I had no doubt it would be her.

"Get me Katie," Jenna said into her phone as her heels click-clicked their way along the corridor; rapping out a staccato beat as she strode away, the weasel scurrying alongside her. "Katie love, it's mum…no everything's not ok, I need you to be a dear and pull all support that your father put in place of any Government programmes, donations everything; not one penny goes their way from now on, and I want you to call around our friends and tell them what we're doing."

I watched in pleasure as the weasel's ears pricked up at that, and I know Jenna had done it deliberately.

"Why? Tell them I will not allow my company to support anyone that will not stand by us in our hour of need, I've just been told that the Government will not negotiate with terrorists at all, and will not get involved in case it increases political tensions in the area."

Jenna paused in her relentless march down the old corridor, almost causing me to bump into her. "That's right, no help whatsoever, they even tried to insult James and Naomi for doing their jobs…yes dear, he called them mercenaries God only knows what they are playing at, seemed to think that they were going to interfere or cause trouble or something…yes dear, the man was an insufferable arse and I told him that we will have nothing to do with him or his bloody party from now on."

"Excuse me Mrs Fitch," I said tapping her on the shoulder and gesturing at my watch, "we really should hurry if we want to make our flight to New Delhi."

"Yes Katie dear," she continued, ignoring me in every way but the important ones, the movement of her feet and the slight glint in her eye that told me that she'd understood exactly why I had made a point of reminding our escort of our destination. "I think a press conference is a fantastic idea, I assume you can handle that…excellent. I will call you from the hotel as soon as it's decent and let you know what is happening…no Katie, I've told you, I won't risk you as well; your place is at home dear that's where you can help Emily the most. Put pressure on the politicians Katie, make them look bad and perhaps they'll get off their arses to do something…I love you too dear, speak to you soon."

We were in the car before Jenna spoke again. We had been ushered from the Palace offices without preamble, almost rudely shooed from the building like guests that had outstayed their welcome; which we undoubtedly had. But as Richard drove us to the airport she asked one question, one softly spoken question that had clearly plagued her thoughts.

"Do you think you and James can get Emily back Naomi? Honestly?"

"I don't think, I know," I said, putting my heart and soul into those words, thinking back to that ballbreaker mission and how well it had gone for us, despite the odds. I got a nod and a wink from Richard and a raised fist, barely hovering over the gear stick. With a wink of my own I tapped his hand and turned around to the dark haired woman that was sitting in the back.

"You've got to trust you're old Sarn't Campbell Mrs F," I told her seriously, "one way or another we're bringing her home safe and sound."


	74. Indian Summer

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a small amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness and a really, really bad temper.

**Chapter 74 – Indian Summer**

"My goodness, is it always this hot here?"

It was our first day in New Dehli and Jenna Fitch clearly wasn't impressed with the conditions, or the room we were waiting in to see yet one more politician's aide in the frustrating search for someone that was prepared to help us. I couldn't say I blamed her, it was as hot as hell today, almost as hot as it had been in the summers I'd suffered through in Afghanistan and Iraq; and the air conditioning unit that laboured away in the corner of the office was barely raising a breeze.

There was one bonus however, the clothes we were wearing, though less than casual, were a lot more comfortable than the fatigues and body armour I had to wear over there; and was planning to wear again.

"Just wait until the middle of the afternoon Mrs F," I said with a smile I honestly didn't feel, "you'll wish it was this cool then."

"If it gets hotter than it is now Naomi dear then I will be back at the hotel, either in a pool…or cheating on poor old Colin with an air conditioning unit!"

I nearly sneezed my coffee out through my nose at that comment, coughing and spluttering as the drink went 'down the wrong way'.

"Are you all right there Naomi dear," Jenna said smirking at my discomfort as I choked my way back to good health. I was amazed as ever at how Jenna managed to remain 'herself' in public, despite the circumstances that had dragged us to this sweatbox on the other side of the world; she was still managing to crack a joke in the darkest of hours.

"_A brave face for a cruel world dear,"_ she'd told me on the flight over here, "_you never know who may be watching or why. It was something Robert used to say; never let your opposition get an advantage from how you appear."_

I approved of that; keep the enemy on their toes, make them think that you know something that they don't. It was a good tactic, if a hard one to keep up; it shouldn't matter though, hiding my feelings from the outside world was something I had always been good at.

o+o+o

It had been a rough trip to get to New Delhi and our hotel. Continuing with my theme of shitty travelling our flight over was delayed; problems with a passenger that had not boarded the plane causing a small security scare as they found and offloaded their bags. By the time that was sorted we were nearly an hour behind schedule, and with a long flight and the time difference to take into account it was going to end up being a long day.

Even though it was relatively early Jenna was yawning loudly even before we'd reached the taxi-point at the end of the runway; the plane readying itself for take-off at the end of the black strip, engines idling away as the pilot waited for clearance. I wasn't quite so relaxed, seizing the armrest with my usual white knuckled grip as the engines screamed somewhere behind me. I could feel the pulse pounding in my head as we accelerated and, not for the first time, I wished it was Emily that was sat next to me; her habitual hand holding one of the things that had got me through the week of globetrotting. By the time we'd levelled off and the seat belt sign had been switched off she was away with the faerys; head lolling onto the comfortable headrest of our first class seats as she slept.

Fortunately for me, my trip to Emily's flat had allowed me to grab some of her magic sleeping pills; and somewhere over Eastern Europe, tired of the feelings and the strain of the trip; I'd buzzed the cabin crew for a glass of water and taken half of one, eventually falling asleep between one heartbeat and another. By the time my subconscious had tortured me back to consciousness with yet more images of my dead friends, including a bleeding Emily, this time with her throat sliced wide open; I found Jenna awake and watching a film on the tiny screen in front of her.

"More bad dreams?" she asked, taking off the headphones she had been wearing, but not without leaving an amusing line in her jet black hair.

"Just a few," I said looking around to see if anyone was looking at me, concerned that my actions during the nightmare might have made a scene.

"Don't worry dear," Jenna said reassuringly, "apart from a bit of muttering and some thrashing about you didn't embarrass yourself."

"How long have I been asleep?"

"I have no idea," Jenna said, pressing the button to call for one of the crew, "you were asleep when I woke up though; and I've been awake for a good hour or so. You must have had a good six or seven hours if you took that tablet when we took off; are you feeling better for it?"

"Not really," I said yawning widely and glancing down at my watch, "but then I didn't expect it to. I guess I've only been out about four, maybe five hours; but that's pretty good for me."

"When was the last time you had a decent night's sleep Naomi," Jenna asked quickly, looking at me concernedly. "And by that I mean a good eight hours or more of undisturbed sleep?"

"Dunno," I said shrugging, "sometime last year I think, probably before I re-upped. Didn't get to sleep much when I was stuck in Butlins and after the attack, well, sleeping wasn't easy really. I was either in pain, or suffering from these fucking nightmares. I think the longest I was out was when I was in the hospital in Camp Bastion; but I was hopped up on morphine then and I don't think that counts."

"Not really dear," she replied sympathetically, "You said that the nightmares were getting better when you were with Emily; she told me that you hadn't had a bad one for weeks and you both said that all those sessions with Joanna had been working, how come you weren't sleeping?"

"I was sleeping," I replied, before pausing to ask for a cup of tea from the steward that arrived to take Jenna's order. "I just wasn't sleeping right through," I continued when we were alone again. "I couldn't switch off you know? Any little noise and I was awake and out of bed to see what was going on."

"Ah," she said mysteriously, "that explains something's Emily said then."

"Explains what?" I replied as my drink arrived, smelling pretty good for airline fare.

"Oh something she complained about once," she replied smiling. "She mentioned, not long after you two moved in together, that you were keeping her awake, and not in the way I was thinking. She wasn't very serious about it though dear, so don't get offended; we put it down to the two of you having to learn each other's little ways. I told her that there were probably a hundred things that she did that made living with her difficult."

"Just a few," I replied smiling wryly, "Like the fact that she can't cook, or even make a decent cup of tea. I never knew she woke up when I did though; she never said anything to me and she was always snoring away when I went back to bed."

"Well she did say that she wasn't awake for long dear; just that you disturbed her sleep, and you know how much she loves her sleep."

"Oh yeah," I replied amused by the thought, falling silent as I wondered if she was sleeping right now, if she was even capable of sleeping at all. I felt Jenna's hand cover mine as we sat, knowing instinctively that she understood and was thinking the same thing as she patted it gently.

"She'll be ok Naomi," she said finally, squeezing my fingers, "remember what you told me, she's a strong woman, stronger than some men you know; that's what you told me."

"She is; it's just…"

"I know Naomi," Jenna interrupted saving me from embarrassing myself further, "I know."

We sipped our drinks in silence; me reading the book I'd started reading in Emily's summerhouse, Jenna sitting back with headphones on studying the film she'd interrupted to talk to me. I don't think either of us were really concentrating on what we were doing, I know I wasn't; my thoughts still dwelling on a compound in Pakistan. As we flew I ran over the mission profile in my head again and again, looking for flaws that needed to be sorted before we went active. I knew Jenna was still hoping for a diplomatic solution, as was I; but I was realistic enough to know that we needed all of our bases covered. _'Khuddam ul-Islam'_ were a persistent bunch of fuckers and Emily's kidnapping was clearly the culmination of their own mission for infamy and fortune.

They weren't going to go down easily, but if I had my way, they _were_ going down.

An hour or so later my stomach was churning once more as we began our descent into Delhi International. As I gripped the seats and stared at the headrest in front of me, Jenna was giving a running commentary on what she could see out of her window.

"Well would you look at that," she said as we came in on a rather bumpy approach over the city into the wonderfully named Indira Gandhi International Airport. "That's just marvellous, not as good as the view Colin and I had when we flew into Paris of course; but still, absolutely fabulous. It's so nice to see different places don't you think Naomi dear?"

She continued to gleefully point out the buildings and areas of greenery that caught her eye as she stared out of the window in fascination, cheerfully unaware of the building tension I was experiencing. As she told me all about everything that she could see I had a swift memory of Emily doing the same when we'd flown in to New Delhi, the same childlike excitement in her voice. I was pretty sure it was still part of Jenna's act, pretending as if there was nothing that she needed to worry about; either that or she thought that her running commentary would distract me from my fear of flying.

If it was the latter it wasn't working, the more she talked about what she could see, the more I thought about how close to the ground we were, one heartbeat, one tiny little mistake away from disaster. All we needed was the pilot to misjudge the height, or the speed, or the invisible movements of air around us, and we would plummet into those buildings or that greenery to be scattered into pieces and there was not a damn thing I could do about it. I felt as helpless as I had when our C17 medical flight had diverted back in January, virtually a lifetime ago, and frankly I was just as scared.

To my eternal relief the landing went without incident, nothing more than a slight thump as the plane kissed the tarmac and began to decelerate, the engines screaming as they were placed into reverse. Around me there was a polite round of applause for the skill of our pilot, followed by the normal bustle of passengers packing away their things, getting ready to disembark; and the polite reminders from the crew over the speakers for us to stay in our seats until we came to a complete standstill.

"I think we should let everyone else get off before we make a move," I said as calmly as I could as the plane taxied slowly towards the terminal. "Let everything quiet down so we can avoid the crush."

"Whatever you think best Naomi dear," she replied quietly, finally pulling down the blind on the window to shield us from the sunlight. "What time do you think it is right now?"

"I think the pilot said it's about ten thirty local time," I replied yawning, "but my head and my watch is still saying it's five in the morning."

"I don't think I'll ever get used to these time-zones when travelling," Jenna replied, adjusting the expensive watch on her wrist as we waited for the rest of first class to disembark. "It throws me every single time I travel; I honestly don't know how Emily manages it when she has to go away on business, especially when she does trips like that last one I sent you both on."

"Mmmm," I replied as I played with my own watch, watching the last people head for the door out of the corner of my eye, "I guess you get used to it. I _am_ glad I slept most of the journey though; I have a feeling it's going to be a long day anyway, without feeling tired and jetlagged as well."

"Then perhaps we should make a start dear," Jenna said nodding towards the door where the cabin crew were waiting expectantly, "I think they're waiting for us to leave."

o+o+o

"Good to see you again Mrs F," Cook said once we were safely on the road. He'd met us at the airport to take us to our hotel; hushing our demands for an update politely, but firmly, until we got into the car and away from listening ears. "Did you have a good flight? I won't ask you the same thing Blondie," he added with a wink to me, "because I have no doubt you didn't."

"It was a long one James," Jenna replied simply before I could respond, "but thankfully we both got some sleep so it wasn't that bad. Now what's going on, what have you found out since you've been here?"

"Nothing useful so far," Cook admitted, "the team have been digging a little, but no-one's talking much. Current feeling is that these guys are serious, and they're not going to budge on anything they're asking for."

"They can't seriously expect us to be able to organise all of that in a couple of days can they?" Jenna replied shaking her head, "I mean it's just impossible."

"I hope not," Cook replied, "their deadline is about twelve hours away. From what Mel's found out, the British Consulate is acting through intermediaries to try and secure the release of the hostages, but we've no idea how successful they've been."

"So you think they'll go ahead with their threats then?" I asked, with a dry mouth that had nothing to do with the temperature.

"Nah," he drawled dramatically, "I think they're fucking with us, making us jump through fucking hoops for their amusement. I think that their next move will be more demands and a lot more threats. I don't think their next video will be pleasant to see, but I'm sure they're bluffing."

"I hope so boss," I said nodding, "I really do fucking hope so…so what's the plan then?"

"Well now," he drawled, "someone's been busy for you Jenna and you have appointments all over town. We'll get you checked into your hotel and settled, then I'll take you across to the first meeting. Give me a chance to catch up with Naomikins here while we wait."

"Nothing you can tell me now Boss?" I replied, anxious to find out what Mel and Chris had been up to while they'd been here.

"Nothing yet kiddo," he replied, eyes flicking to the driver then back to me. I'm waiting for a phone call or two first. Which reminds me…"

Cook reached into a pocket and threw me a basic looking phone, simple and serviceable, followed by an envelope.

"Numbers are already programmed in and there's enough credit that you can keep in touch, I've put some of the local greenbacks in there for you to get by on; anything else you need, shove it on your card if you can."

"Thanks boss," I said gratefully, the thought of having local currency available not even crossing my mind.

"I kinda figured it'd come in handy, me and the boys had a merry old time when we arrived; not one of us had the cash to pay for our cab fare, and you try finding an ATM around here you can use."

"Oh dear," Jenna interrupted smiling, "how did you end up paying then?"

"Had to ask nicely at the hotel," he said with a wink. "Night porter wasn't too happy about changing currency out of hours, but the three of us were quite persuasive if you know what I mean."

"So much for low profile," I said shaking my head, "I'm surprised you weren't arrested."

"Nah, we didn't threaten him much," Cook said with a wink, "and we did leave him a nice tip so he was our best buddy after that."

"Well I'm glad we don't have to worry about that now," Jenna said, leaning forward to pat Cook on the arm. "I must confess I hadn't thought about money either, I just assumed I'd be able to use my credit cards. Thank you James…now, can you tell me where my first meeting is and with whom? I think I need to do a bit of thinking before I get there and I'm afraid I forgot to charge my Blackberry before I left and the battery is dead…it did get quite a bit of use yesterday."

I could vouch for that, Jenna hadn't been off the phone from the moment we left Westminster; in fact it was only the ban on mobile phones in the plane that had dragged it from her ear. She was a machine, a machine with one goal in her mind, the safe, and peaceful, return of her daughter and her employee; not that I was complaining.

I sat back and relaxed slightly as Cook briefed Jenna about the meetings that had been arranged, starting with a trip to the British Consulate to begin the process of meeting people; making contacts to get you to meet other contacts, until hopefully you found someone that could help.

I still wasn't holding out much hope though, and as the day progressed and we were dragged from unhelpful pillar to obstreperous post the prospects of success were looking bleaker and bleaker.

"Any luck?" I asked as she appeared through the large wooden door of yet another Government official.

"About as much use as a chocolate fireguard," Jenna announced to my, shaking her head disgustedly. "The idiot won't commit to any direct help, says they can't put any diplomatic pressure on Pakistan 'given the current climate'; but he will 'see what he can do' for us."

"Politician speak for 'run along little girl'," I commented as we walked quickly down the corridor, the sweat was dripping from me unpleasantly as I walked alongside her. I'd been sitting in ante-rooms or standing in corridors for the best part of the day and I was hot, hungry and as angry as hell.

"More or less dear," Jenna replied mopping her brow and looking as tired as I was. I was beginning to get worried about her, that resolve that I'd admired was beginning to flag and, at least in private, she was looking dejected.

I guess knockback after knockback would do that to you.

"Where to next then Boss?" I asked, trying desperately to lighten the mood a little from the gloom that had descended.

"Back to the hotel I think Naomi," Jenna replied sighing and fanning herself. "After today I need a cool room, a hot bath, a good meal and a few large glasses of wine…and not necessarily in that order."

"Sounds like a plan Mrs F," I replied as we headed out of the building, looking around for our car.

"Are you going to join me for a bite to eat this evening Naomi dear?" Jenna asked as I waved over our driver, watching as the dark Audi made its way over to us.

"I was hoping to go and see Cook," I replied shaking my head. "I really need to catch up with him on how things are going, you know?"

"Ah," Jenna replied knowingly, "so I am to be locked into my suite like Rapunzel in her tower I suppose."

"Not really ma'am," I answered formally as I opened the door, nodding at the driver as he pulled up, and making sure that the vehicle was indeed empty. "But for your own safety and security I would appreciate it if you kept yourself safe."

"Well if I have to," she sighed dramatically, "I suppose I'm far too old to go out partying anyway. Look, why don't you join me for an early supper Naomi, that way you can make sure I'm tucked up safe and sound before you meet up with your boss for drinks."

"I won't be drinking Mrs Fitch," I said as I climbed into the front seat next to the driver. "I can't guarantee Mr Cook won't be though, and someone has to look after him as well."

"Your duties are never over," she joked sitting back and closing her eyes.

"No rest for the wicked," I replied sagely, turning around in my seat once more and paying attention to the road, "no rest for the wicked at all."

o+o+o

Dinner with Jenna was a bit of a sombre affair. Rather than go down to the hotel's restaurant and face the press that we'd been advised were loitering around, waiting to speak to her about Emily's situation, we'd decided to have room service bring a really good meal and drinks up to our suite. Despite all of the issues I faced with security, a real advantage of travelling on business with Emily, and now Jenna, was that I didn't have to slum it in the usual cheap hotels I normally stayed in when I was travelling. This meant that the service, and the food was one hell of a lot better and, as we tucked in to our first decent meal since London, Jenna gave me her honest assessment of the day's meetings; and to my ears it wasn't pleasant to listen to.

Pretty much since we'd landed, she'd met with minor and major officials in the Indian and British Governments and, apart from the usual platitudes, we'd been offered sweet fuck all by way of assistance. The British Government hadn't relaxed its position at all, and the assistant to the Consul had again asked her to ensure that we allowed them to do their jobs and not interfere; hinting again that Close Protection weren't welcome.

"What did you say to that?" I asked raising an eyebrow.

"I asked him exactly _what_ they were doing to secure the safe release of my daughter and her colleague," she replied staring at me over her glass of red wine.

"And?"

"…and he smiled at me and said that _'things were progressing behind the scenes'_. It seems that James was right, the Government has applied a bit of pressure after we threatened to pull their donations, and it hasn't hurt that Katie has made a bit of a splash in the press about it too; there's nothing like some negative coverage on Sky News and the BBC to make people jump. They said they've got a negotiator making contact, but there doesn't seem to be any urgency on the matter."

Jenna took another long sip of her drink, her eyes looking troubled for the first time. "I don't think that they're taking this very seriously you know? It's as if they don't see it as being important. The deadline runs out tonight and if we can't convince this terrorist group that we're acting in good faith then they might…"

"No-one thinks that's going to happen though Jenna," I said quickly as her voice tailed off. "You know that Cook and the team think they're just setting out their negotiating position. They want money and they want prisoners released, they're not going to get that by executing the only thing they have to bargain with."

"That's part of the problem though isn't it dear? I can convince them that we can raise the money given a little more time, but I can't do anything about the prisoners they want releasing, so…"

"You can't think like that Jenna," I said sitting back with my glass of water, my meal barely touched. "You have to stay positive, for Emily's sake if for no other reason."

Like you are?" she asked with a weak smile, "I seem to recall a discussion about diplomacy being a waste of time."

"I'm a special case," I told her draining my glass and getting to my feet. "I'm nothing but a squaddie Boss; we leave the fancy diplomacy to other people. I'm more a kick in the door and throw a flash-bang kind of girl."

"Yes dear I know," Jenna said smiling properly for the first time, "it's one of the features that Emily finds very attractive about you."

"She's said," I replied with a grin of my own, "but she claims it's the persona I have, and she insists that it's nothing to do with the fact that she's got a uniform fetish."

I winked exaggeratedly as Jenna choked noisily on her drink.

"On that note, shouldn't you be going to meet James to play at being soldiers again dear?" Jenna replied, composing herself with an effort.

"Don't tell me Emily's not the only one with a uniform fetish," I teased, trying to keep up the much needed good humour. "Emily never mentioned that."

"It's not me with the fetish Naomi dear, what was it Emily said you called me…a MILF wasn't it?"

This time it was my turn to choke as Jenna winked at me, her eyes gleaming mischievously. "Oh come now dear, surely you've realised by now Emily tells me almost _everything_ that goes on in her life?"

"I didn't know she went that far, no," I replied shaking my head, "Jesus, remind me to have words with her one day about boundaries."

"If we get her back," Jenna said suddenly, shattering the good mood.

"_When_ we get her back," I said confidently. "She's coming home Jenna, that I promise you."

"Thank you Naomi," she said getting to her feet and hugging me before I got a chance to evade her. "Now you have places to go and I have a bath and a mini-bar to keep me company. Call me if you hear anything though, I will have my phone with me at all times."

"Of course I will," I said as reassuringly as I could, "keep the door locked? And don't panic if I do ring; I'll give you a call every now and again to make sure things are ok if that's all right?"

"Naturally Naomi, but I'll be safe and well on my own; I want to call Katie in a bit though so don't panic yourself if you can't get hold of me. Will you join me for a nightcap before you go to bed? I'm going to up late because of this time zone thing my body has anyway."

"One of your special hot chocolates? How can I resist?" I replied giving her a thumbs-up. Trying to act casual I walked over to the door; I picked up my essentials from where I had left them, phone, hotel keys and wallet containing the local currency and, with a final nod to Jenna, I was gone.

o+o+o

"Nice place," I said as Cook opened the door to the hotel room he was using as a base, the ceiling fan that passed for air conditioning grinding away above me as I sat down on a rickety wooden chair.

"Yeah, it's a bit of a shithole," Cook said with a grin as he sat on the bed. "I think it's Mel's idea of a joke. I told her to put us somewhere inconspicuous, but I didn't mean a rat hole in the slums of Delhi. I think I may have to fire her when we get home."

"_New_ Delhi Boss," I corrected waving away a bottle of water he offered me, "and this is hardly in the slums; though it's not far off…and like you'd ever fire Mel, she's the best operations analyst I've ever seen."

"Yeah she is pretty good isn't she?" Cook said cracking open a can of beer and wincing as he sipped. "Fuck me, this stuff is like making love in a canoe,"

"Thought you'd be used to that being a Septic," I told him with a grin, "most of your beer is fucking close to water too."

"Why do you think I spend so much time in the UK?" Cook asked taking a long pull of the local brew and grimacing. "Beer's better there than at home."

"Well I thought it might be the charms of your fiancée," I chided, "have you called her yet? Has she forgiven you for coming?"

"Couple of times actually, and she's good…we had a chat about things before I left and as long as I promised to come home, and not get killed, I'm in the clear."

"Sounds like a good plan," I said nodding, "sounds like a very good plan in fact."

"Amen to that blondie," Cook replied with his usual aplomb. "Amen to that."

Ten minutes later we were crammed around a tiny table, papers scattered everywhere as we worked through the logistics for the mission we all hoped wouldn't be necessary. Mel had provided the latest up to date intelligence that she had on the target and satellite photographs and terrain maps gave us a true aspect of the lay of the land.

"This is where Tom and I will set up," Cook said tapping the map where a small circle had been pencilled. We think it's an easier route in from here; we can decamp from the vehicle when it hits these woods and then it can go on without us. I reckon we can get there in an hour or so once night falls, so we'll be in position for a couple of hours before you guys hit."

"Any issues getting there?" I asked frowning, the idea of moving about in Pakistan concerning me.

"None at all; fuck knows how Mel has arranged it, but the same group that is providing us with the safe house are going to drive us in hidden in the back of a lorry that's destined for Islamabad, it's a regular route apparently so it won't raise any suspicions."

"Do we have any security concerns about these people?" I pressed, "I mean it's a big risk we're taking."

"I don't think so," Cook said as Andy nodded, "we met up with the guy earlier, he seems ok; and you could say they're taking as big a risk as we are."

It was probably true, somehow Mel had managed to hook us up with a team of Kashmiri rebels with strong links to India and operational safe houses all around the border area; most usefully one that was inside Pakistan and right on the reservoir itself. It was perfect, almost too perfect and that's why I was concerned.

My gut was telling me something wasn't right, and my gut never lied.

"What about the comm's kit and weaponry Sarge?" Andy asked, "Do we know if what we asked for has arrived?"

"More or less everything we need is there," I said, repeating the message Jenna had received from Bonnie a few hours before. "Some of the specialist kit we asked for we're going to have to get ourselves, but the bulk of the weaponry is either there or on its way. We can pick it up from the demonstration site any time we like."

"Great news Sarge," Cook said, dropping the affectionate nicknames he habitually used around me. "As long as that natty little toy of mine is there then I'm a happy boy. Now, about your side of the mission guys, let's go through that once more…"

o+o+o

Three exhausting hours later I was on my way back to the hotel; the mission still firmly on my mind. There were a number of things that we needed to accomplish the mission that we didn't have, and time was pressing on. The deadline was midnight tonight, barely an hour or so away and we weren't ready, not that we had expected to be. We'd already worked miracles to get where we were, and the team were performing admirably, but there was a searing fear in my stomach that we were already too late. Adding that to the gut feeling that something was wrong and I wasn't a happy Sarge.

It must have shown as well, because from the moment I knocked and headed into the suite that we were sharing, Jenna was interrogating me as to what was wrong.

"Nothing's wrong," I said shaking my head to emphasise the point, "we're just a few bits of kit missing; but apart from the tanks I'm sure we're good to go."

"So you haven't heard anything bad then," Jenna continued, sitting down in relief. "I thought the worst when you came in, you didn't look at all pleased."

"Thinking," I apologised tapping my head, "there's something wrong with the mission and I can't put my finger on what…it's annoying me and I don't like being annoyed."

"Tell me about it," Jenna said gesturing at the sofa. "If you think it would help that is. I have no idea what you're talking about so perhaps I can ask the silly questions."

I thought about it for a second, the security implications of what she was asking at the forefront of my mind. You always try to keep the number of people involved in a mission to the smallest number, just in case; and right now Jenna did not need to know all the details, if nothing else they might worry her and she didn't need that.

"I need to work it out myself Mrs F," I said sitting down finally, "we're ok with everything but one thing is bothering me."

"Start, middle or end?" she asked tilting her head, raising an eyebrow at my confused look. "Come on Naomi, stop thinking like a soldier and start thinking like a business woman. You have a problem and we need to break it down, so if I say start, middle or end which one is it?"

"End," I said confidently realising the sense in her words, it seemed strange to step out of the military mindset, as strange as it had been when I was studying my Open University course in a combat zone, but the methodology made perfect sense.

"Right then, what is the objective of the end then, let's do a problem solving exercise and see what's wrong."

"Objective…" I mused as I thought about it. Like so many things the objective of what you were doing seemed perfectly clear, until you actually had to think about it. "I guess it's get us out safely."

"Get whom out Naomi dear," she continued, moving to sit next to me with a pad of hotel notepaper in her hands.

"Emily, Brian and the team I guess," I replied frowning. "That's who's going in anyway."

Jenna wrote that down on the paper and drew the familiar shape of an Ishikawa diagram, the skeletal fish shape making me smile. "So then, what are the bones made of?"

"For the exit strategy," I asked getting a nod, "hell Jenna, put me on the spot. Er…Procedure, Materials, Place."

"Surroundings," Jenna corrected me, wrapping my knuckles with her pen before writing the titles down on the page.

"It's been a while," I said as an excuse, getting a knowing look in return, "Ok, ok surroundings…call it the 'combat environment' if you like."

"I think we'll stick with surroundings," she joked, "now let's take each in turn and see where we get ok? What's wrong with the surroundings?"

"What's not," I said shaking my head, "we're inside Pakistan where we do not have licence to operate, we're on the edge of a lake, we're about sixty miles from safety."

We ploughed through the other two areas, my identifying the problems as I saw them, getting ourselves and all our equipment out without being discovered, how we were going to do that etc; Jenna continually asking me questions to prompt my thinking process and channel me in the right direction if needed. Once we had all of them written down on the diagram she started the process again, asking me over and over again why something was a problem, until we'd found one common factor that stuck out like a sore thumb.

"Looks like that's the thing you need to sort out Naomi," Jenna said proudly as she circled the offending issues on the paper in their different forms. "It looks like it comes down to how you get Emily and Brian out of Pakistan and to safety before there's a chance of being discovered or reinforcements arriving."

"Yeah," I replied thoughtfully. The original plan had been to take them out more or less the way we came in; stopping over at the safe house before crossing the border back into India. The more I'd thought about the extraction though the more it had become apparent that was a risk; the chances of being attacked and captured by the terrorists, or by a responding force from Pakistan, increasing dramatically after we'd made contact with the enemy. What we really needed was a fast way out, and that wasn't something we had in place.

"Would you mind a suggestion Naomi dear," Jenna said, interrupting my thought process.

"Not really," I replied, thinking that I'd humour her, guessing that her understanding of extraction techniques would be a lot worse than mine.

"This issue with equipment being traced; can't you just remove all the identifying marks before you go, and then dump it all in the reservoir rather than carry it all back with you?"

"We could," I said thoughtfully, "it'd be expensive though."

"Naomi these people are asking me for millions for my daughters return, do you really think I'm bothered about losing some equipment I can write off as losses on the company books if I have to?"

"Well no," I replied, the change in thinking making my head spin. "I guess I just never thought of it like that, we're not used to..."

"...just throwing away equipment," she finished with a smile. "Well as a taxpayer I thank you for that, but if you need to get rid of things I'm telling you to do it. Now about this way out…would it be helpful if I could arrange a helicopter for you?"

"I wish," I replied, knowing the issues Mel had trying to find someone that was prepared to get us out in a hurry. "We've thought about that, got nowhere with it though."

"Never say never Naomi, the judicious greasing of palms often opens doors that you've thought were slammed closed; something Robert used to be very good at. I know the right girl to sort it out as well, a chip off the old block as Robert would say."

"Katie?" I asked incredulously, "Seriously? Jenna we need to keep this as secret as we can…the more people that know the more that can go wrong."

"I understand that Naomi," she said reassuringly, "and so will Katie. We can at least look for something…discretely."

"There's nothing discrete about looking for a pilot prepared to fly with no flight plan, crossing an international border without permission carrying a group of armed mercenaries and…"

"I know that Naomi, trust me."

Jenna pulled out her mobile from her bag and started pressing buttons, presumably getting ready to call Katie. As I sat there and frowned she looked up at me and smiled, "why don't you call room service and get us some hot chocolate brought up Naomi dear?" she said as she pressed the Blackberry to her ear, "I think we deserve it…and I think you should shred or burn that notepad as well, just in case…"

Before I could answer she had looked away from me ending the conversation there and then; leaving me with nothing to do but order the drinks using the room's phone, trying to listen in as I struggled with the night staff.

"Katie, it's mum…Yes dear I am acutely aware of the fact that it's late, trust me it's even later here…no dear I haven't heard anything and you'll be the first to hear if I do…No Katie dear, there's nothing wrong, I just need you to do something for me; could you find someone to give Naomi a helicopter ride back from that side visit she's making with the demonstration team, I know it's short notice, but James and her have agreed to demonstrate the distance weapons that the Army were interested in and we need to get them back in a hurry….no dear they're making their own way there with the spectators, but they need a fast, discrete return…no I can't say when, and it might not happen, were waiting for news but we need to have things in place just in case…no dear, money's not an object here, if we get the business it'll more than make up for the loss."

I had to admire her use of coded language; to the casual, or not so casual, listener it was just one more boring business call. I only hoped that Katie would understand the subtleties of what she meant and sort things accordingly. If we could get a faster escape than we had planned, even if it was only for Emily and Brian, it would be a massive weight off my mind; a fast getaway could keep them safe, and that was all that mattered to me.

"Well, let me know if you can Katie dearest…yes they're probably heading up to the exercises tomorrow or the day after as we planned…no dear I might go up with them, keep myself busy you know? We're not getting that much help here and it's all a little frustrating."

There was a long pause as she listened in to whatever Katie was telling her, and I strained to see if I could hear the twin's words to no avail.

"That's fantastic dear, keep the pressure up. Make sure that you, or they, make it clear that we're trying to negotiate and meet the demands but we need just a little bit more time to make things happen…definitely dear, to whomever will listen; see if we can't stir things a little and buy us some more time while we're doing it…great work my dear."

There were more words of support from Jenna to her daughter as I answered the door, peering through the spyglass to see who it was. By the time I had taken the tray with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate and turned around Jenna was sat on the sofa, her call over.

"How's Katie holding up?" I asked as I placed the tray down on the table and handed her one of the mugs.

"She's ok," Jenna replied with a shrug, "considering. She's working with the press this evening, doing interviews to raise some pressure."

"I guessed," I replied sitting down next to her and sniffing happily at the comforting smell that was emanating from my mug. "I'll keep my fingers crossed for her."

"So will I, we need all the luck we can get right now." With that Jenna glanced at her watch anxiously, "after midnight…their deadline has elapsed; do you think we should put the news on?"

"I think we should go to bed and try to sleep Jenna," I said shaking my head. "There's nothing we can do anyway, and they might have meant midnight _UK_ time, they weren't exactly clear about that."

"I'm not sure I can sleep Naomi dear," Jenna said, a slight quaver in her voice the only sign of the fear she and I were sharing.

"Then you'll take one of Emily's tablets," I ordered, "like I'm going to. We're not going to help her by staying awake tonight, we need to be fresh; it's shit but you know I'm right."

"You are," she replied nodding, "it's just…"

"I know Jenna; I get it, I really do. You think that you're letting everyone down…that you're coming across as weak, or a failure or something. We've all been there for different reasons, but we both need sleep or we'll be neither use nor ornament if anything does happen…"

Ten minutes later I had her convinced, packing her off to her room with a shiny white tablet, a glass of water and orders to take them the moment she got under the covers. After a sweep of the suite and the customary double check of the front door I was in bed too, taking half of one tablet to help shut up my brain and let me get some much needed rest.

o+o+o

It felt like I my head had barely touched the pillow when my 'burn-phone' dragged me from my nightmares, ringing away noisily. As I grabbed it and blinked at the time, just after zero-six hundred hours, and the name that was flashing on the screen in time with the ringing, I heard a pounding on the suite door and I jerked awake instantly; jumping out of bed as fast as I could. Pausing only to throw a t-shirt over my head I answered the phone, trying to pull on some shorts at the same time.

"Cook, what's up?" I demanded, cradling the phone with my shoulder and fumbling with the drawstring of my shorts tying them tightly.

"Where the fuck are you blondie? Open the fucking door; we've been knocking for ages."

"I was asleep boss, hang on I'm coming."

The noise from outside stopped as I hung up, and I ran my hands through my hair as I walked out into the suites common area and opened the front door; checking the spyhole as usual to see Cook and the boys stood in the hallway.

"What's the problem?" I asked concernedly as I opened the door. "What's happened?"

"Nothing good," Cook said seriously as they filed in ceremoniously their faces bleak. Almost instantly my heart started beating ten to the dozen in mild panic, a million bleak thoughts running through it. Cook looked at me sympathetically before continuing. "Is Jenna asleep? Then you had better go and wake her."

Jenna looked as panicked as I felt when I shook her awake, her black hair falling around her face as she sat up quickly. I didn't have an answer to the inevitable questions, instead leaving her for a few moments to muster her dignity and walking back into the suite and getting on the phone to room service to order some strong coffee for us all. While we waited for Jenna to get dressed, Cook and I began pacing the room like a pair of caged tigers that had been locked up too long, my stress levels increasing with every moment of uncertainty.

Honestly, I was expecting the worst.

"We've had some bad news," Cook said finally when we were all assembled, Jenna looking ashen, the boys looking grim. "Mel called me about an hour ago to say that a contact she's made in the local Leo's has rung her to say a body has been dumped at the British Consulate along with, allegedly, a video. Now they couldn't tell her any more than that, and it might be nothing to do with us; but we have to assume that the bastards have gone through with their threats and killed a hostage..."


	75. Video Nasty

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a small amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness and a really, really bad temper.

**Chapter 75 – Video Nasty**

"…_we have to assume that the bastards have gone through with their threats and killed a hostage."_

Cooks grim words echoed around the suite, Jenna and I staring at him blankly as we registered what he had said, her mind no doubt doing the same as mine; running from disbelief, to denial and back again…over and over again.

"But everyone said that it was all a bluff," Jenna said accusingly, her face stricken tears evident in the corners of her tired looking eyes, "you all said that this wouldn't happen, you said they'd never go through with it!"

"We said we thought it was unlikely Mrs F," Cook said shaking his head, "all the evidence we had pointed towards that conclusion. Like I say, we don't even know if it is anything to do with the abduction, it could be a simple crime, or a misunderstanding, or both; but we thought we should get together and wait, just in case…and I wanted you both to hear the news from someone personally, not some prick that doesn't care about either of you. Neither of you deserves that."

"I see, thank you James," Jenna said simply; before closing down and sitting silently, messing with her hands in nervous tension. We all sat down together, lost in our thoughts, jumping only at a knock on the door, a tray full of jugs and china cups appearing with one of the hotel staff when Cook opened it.

To my surprise Jenna stood up and took the tray, bustling Cook out of the way and serving the coffee to everyone; pouring a cup of tea for me with a wink, clearly remembering my dislike of coffee first thing in the morning. She was utterly amazing, not a moment ago she'd looked dead to the world; staring at the floor, the movement of her hands the only thing indicating that she was still alive. Now she was bustling about pouring drinks and asking everyone if they would like her to order breakfast; putting on that brave face she wore so well. Within moments we all had steaming cups and she was on the phone to reception again, trying to rustle up some food that probably none of us wanted to eat, clearly just wanting to do something, anything…anything than just sit here numbly, feeling completely helpless; the way I felt right then, staring blankly at the wall hoping I could wake up from the nightmare I was living through.

"You ok kid?" Cook said gently, sitting down next to me on the sofa, taking the space Jenna had just vacated.

"What do you think boss?" I replied, trying, and failing, not to snap at him.

"I think y'all look like you're about to commit an act of violence on that there wall Naomikins," he replied with a hint of the whimsical charm that usually made me smile.

Not today though, not right now anyway.

"I'll commit an act of violence on you in a minute Cook," I muttered, still glaring at the wall trying to compose my thoughts.

"Well if that's what you need blondie you're surely welcome to try," he replied calmly, his voice low enough that only the two of us can hear it. "But for the sake of my impending wedding photos, could you _please_ avoid the face? You know that Effy would never forgive either of us if I wasn't my normal handsome self when we get married."

I blinked at that, and smiled despite myself, James Cook clearly wasn't just a good boss, he was also a damned good leader. I wished I'd known him when I was in the Army; he was made of the right stuff.

I was fucking glad he would be with me when we went to rescue Emily…if she was still alive that was.

"Chin up kiddo," Cook said seeing my face fall at the thought. "If it helps, try to remember that Emily's their prize chip, they're not likely to just throw it away to make a point."

"You think it's this Brian guy then?" I asked blinking rapidly to hide the pinpricks of tears that were threatening to form. "You think they might have killed him to make a point?"

"If the report is even true Naomi, and we don't know that, then yes. I think that's the likely situation."

"I hope so," I said unthinkingly before looking at him embarrassed at what I had just said. "Sorry, that was a shitty thing to say…"

"…I understand Naomi," Cook interrupted my apology for my callous words. "No need to apologise, I knew what you meant. Let's hope that they realise that the hostages are the only cards they can play, and they don't want to throw any of them away."

Cook clapped me on the shoulder as he got to his feet, walking over toward Jenna and topping up his coffee.

We all sat around in silence, out thoughts consuming us as we waited for something that would tell us if it was bad news or for me extremely bad news. I couldn't cope with the idea that Emily might have died wondering if I actually cared about her at all, wondering if I loved her or not.

Joni Mitchell's tune popped into my head again, _"you don't know what you've got 'till it's gone," _running around my skull to taunt me. Damn that girl knew how to sing the truth, or at least I thought so. I'd fucked things up, but I was going to make them right if it fucking killed me; nothing was going to stop me getting Emily back, after that? Well we'd just have to see what happened.

I hoped that it wasn't completely ruined though and that Jenna's gentle reminders about the things Emily had told her about the two of us were hints that my stupidity hadn't fucked everything up.

"Jesus," Jenna exclaimed suddenly as Cook's phone started ringing loudly, shattering the silence with a Nokia ringtone I hadn't heard used since I was a teenager.

"Sorry, sorry," Cook apologised, though I wasn't sure if it was for the noise or the cheesy tone. "I'll just get this…"

We all watched him closely as he walked over to the far side of the room; the phone pressed to his ear, his voice low. I caught his eye once or twice as he paced up and down; my nerves jangling as he looked back at me, and then looked away quickly.

Finally he took the handset from his ear and turned back to us, his face bleak.

"That was Mel," he said quietly, "there's a video that has arrived at the British consulate here, Fitch Industries back in London, as well as on this alleged body dropped off at the police. She hasn't seen it yet so don't ask me what's on it, but she's bringing it over to us now."

"How has she got a copy boss," I heard someone in the room say.

"Our guys in London sent it over Naomi," he replied and I blinked as I realised it was me that has asked the question; my brain not working as it was gripped by concern and fear. "It was dropped off at the office and they've encrypted it and e-mailed it over. We're keeping security high on this, for obvious reasons; and I think it best if you and Jenna aren't around when she arrives."

"Why's that James?" Jenna asked quickly, causing a pained expression to appear on Cook's face.

"Because he doesn't want us to see it if there's a chance that it might be Emily Jenna," I said sparing him the truth. "James is trying to protect us from what might be on that video."

"Oh," Jenna replied her shoulders sagging, "yes…yes of course; thank you again James."

Cook nodded, but if he was going to say anything he was interrupted by a knock at the door. I saw Jenna's head snap up at the sound, and my heart began racing in turn, pounding away in my chest. With two graceful steps Cook was at the door and peering through the spyhole, before opening it up to reveal a white jacketed member of staff pushing a trolley laden with covered plates.

"Looks like breakfast is served guys," he said taking the check and signing it with a flourish, reaching into a pocket to tip the guy. "I'll take it from here my friend," he added ushering the waiter from the room. We'll leave everything outside when we're done.

"My trolley Sir," the waiter replied in an accent so thick it was nearly incomprehensible, gesturing at the cloth covered device. "I need to take it."

"Well why didn't you say so buddy," Cook said with a broad grin, his 'ham acting' right up there with the best of them. "Allow us to take the good stuff though, the ladies here are starvin'"

Within moments the room was secure again, Andy and Simon helping Cook strip the trolley bare before they got rid of the smiling waiter. Breakfast was smelling fantastic to my starved belly, but unsurprisingly my appetite had still not made an appearance.

"Sausage, bacon, and scrambled eggs dear?" Jenna asked, pushing a plate into my hand.

"I'm not really hungry Jenna," I replied, placing the plate onto the table in front of me.

"Nonsense Naomi," she snapped shaking her head. "You've hardly eaten for days, eat something!"

"Jenna's right Naomi, you need to eat, keep your strength up," Cook added as he paced the floor, a plate of steaming food in one hand, a fork in another. "There's no way you'll be fit to do shit when it's needed, you git me?"

"Yes Sir," I replied saluting sarcastically as Jenna handed me the plate again, smiling concernedly as she did so. It was a horribly awkward time as we all sat together and ate. My stomach protested as I shovelled in the scrambled eggs, washing it down with a cup of coffee and a slice of toast, the grumbling sound drew a slight smile from Cook who continued to pace and pace.

It was beginning to piss me off, and I wasn't the only one to be affected by it.

"James will you please sit down," Jenna snapped finally, putting down her cup with a clink. "You're making me even more nervous pacing around like that."

"Sorry Mrs F," he apologised, immediately sitting down and looking sheepish. I looked on amused as his foot started tapping involuntarily as he forced himself into inactivity. Getting to my feet I picked up the coffee pot and sat down next to Jenna and topped up her cup.

"I give him about five minutes before he explodes," I whispered, getting a raised eyebrow in return. "You've stopped his thing," I continued, thinking back to another conversation in an opulent airport.

"His thing?" Jenna asked; sounding so much like her daughter it made my heart hurt to remember her saying almost the same thing.

"He's a pacer," I explained, "and you've stopped him from wandering around, look at his foot jiggling…like I say, I give him five minutes before he explodes."

"Naomi dear," Jenna said looking exasperated, "what on _earth_ are you talking about?"

"Nothing I guess," I replied shrugging, "just something I was explaining to Emily when we were waiting to get picked up from the airport in Baghdad. Everyone has a way of expressing their nerves, a 'thing' we used to call it; Cook's thing is pacing and you've just stopped him doing it."

"Oh," she said looking over at him her eyes narrowing as she watched his foot tap against the carpeted floor. "Everyone has a thing you say dear," she continued turning back to me and raising an eyebrow again. "Do I have a thing?"

"Everyone has a thing Jenna," I said, the sense of déjà vu consuming me, "everyone."

"What's mine then?" she demanded, and again I could see where her daughter got a lot of her traits from.

"You?" I replied with a wry smile, "you have a need to do things, be a mother to everyone around you no matter who they are. You make drinks and order food and stuff like that. Every time you have something on your mind I bet you find yourself doing something that you don't normally do."

"You might be right dear," she mused, her face thoughtful. "How did you work that out?"

"I'm trained to be observant Jenna," I told her simply, "before I joined the CPU where being observant keeps you alive, I was an investigator; recognising when people have something to hide is part of the art."

"Interesting; tell me dear does Emily have one of these 'things'?"

"Of course she does," I replied nodding.

"Well what is it then?" Jenna asked, looking at me expectantly, "share!"

"I bet you already know," I told her winking, "but I'm not telling you what it is; Emily wanted to know too, but I'm not giving up that advantage."

"She babbles," Jenna said suddenly, her face lighting up. "When Emily is nervous, or not telling the truth she has a tendency to babble. She's done it since she was a child. Katie was always better at that than Emily ever was, I could always tell…that's it isn't it, that's her 'thing'!"

I shrugged my shoulders, poker face firmly in place. I wasn't going to share what I'd discovered about Emily, but she wasn't one hundred percent wrong. As close as her motherly guess was though, there was something I knew about my Emily that clearly Jenna didn't. It amused me to think that I knew something about my little redhead that even her mother didn't know, but it would stay my little secret; a girl has to have some advantages you know.

"You're not fooling me Naomi," Jenna said tapping her nose with a long, immaculately lacquered finger nail. "But I'll keep it between you and me, ok?"

"Whatever makes you happy Mrs F," I replied noncommittally, frowning as her face fell at my words.

"I think getting them both home safely would make me happy Naomi," she whispered, blinking back tears; the cracks in her emotional shield starting to widen. "That would make me very happy indeed."

"Me too," I replied before falling into silence with everyone else, _'me too.'_

o+o+o

Half an hour after the plates and cups were cleared away by the boys, being stacked in the hallway ready for the service staff to take away, there was a loud knock at the door. Before I could move Cook was waving me down, already up and heading for the door. One long look through the spyhole and he opened up, revealing Chris and Mel their faces stoney.

My stomach gave a lurch as Cook ushered them in, checking the hallway for anyone suspicious. We were taking no chances with security as Jenna and I had picked up a tail earlier in the day, the same suspicious figure following from building to building. I wasn't convinced they were a threat, probably just someone assigned to follow us around and make sure we didn't get up to any additional mischief; Cook had reported the same thing, someone trailing them around the city too. Clearly everything seemed in order because, apart from dragging the trays in front of the door itself, he closed up and locked the door behind him.

"Might be best if you ladies gave us a minute or two," he said looking over at Jenna and I.

"I'm not going anywhere James," Jenna replied firmly, folding her arms. "Whatever this news is, I need to hear it now."

"But…" Cook started to protest, before I silenced him with a shake of my head.

"I'm staying too James," I told him, "Jenna's right, we need to see this now, whatever it means."

"Have you watched the tape yet Mel?" Cook asked looking across at her as she set up her laptop on the small coffee table in the centre of the suite.

"Not yet," she replied shaking her head, "it took us longer than we thought to downloaded it over the stupid hotel internet and then we came right here; was that wrong?"

"No, no, not at all," Cook replied quickly, "I was just wondering if you had anything to share before we get started.

"We've got some information Mr Cook," Chris interrupted, his voice low and comfortingly steady. "Richard was on duty when the package was dropped off in London, it came in via a bike courier; he made a call to the courier company and it seems that the DVD was dropped off in person and the delivery was paid for in cash, in full, and with no questions, so there's not much help there. Good thing is the office has a CCTV camera and there's a slim possibility that they might have a decent image of the guy that set up the deal. It's thin, but it was apparently enough to get the Anti-Terrorist Squad involved.

"They've reported it then," Cook frowned, "nuts!"

"Mr Jones insisted Sir," Chris continued ignoring Cook's little outburst. "He told Richard to get the data e-mailed to us and then provide the original disc and all our information to the Police. He said to hide it might bring more attention down on our shoulders here, and that was the last thing we needed.

"Hmmm," Cook mused, apparently placated, "he's probably right; hold on a second…how he fuck did JJ get involved? He's supposed to be fucking recuperating, not acting as a liaison between here and fucking London in the middle of the night."

"SOP I'm afraid Mr Cook, when the London team couldn't get hold of you or Miss Campbell here the next number on the operations log was Mr Jones' mobile."

"Who put that in there?" Cook demanded.

"JJ did," Mel interrupted, "he said he wanted to be involved, even if it was from his hospital bed. I'm sorry James; he said you'd approved it but only as an emergency."

"Sneaky little fucker, pardon my French," Cook apologised shaking his head in disbelief. "That's so like him…ok so what else do we know Chris?"

"Well from the few friends we've made here, and I'm afraid it's cost me a few quid to make them Mr Cook," Chris apologised. Cook waved away the though of the expense of the bribery they'd clearly used to get people to talk to us. "I got a call on the way over here, the guy we've developed said that a body was dumped outside the British consulate earlier this evening, but until he gets into the station he can't say any more."

"Is he going to call when he has more information?"

"He says he will…if the money's right."

I snorted in annoyance at that little revelation; the capacity of mankind to fuck people over for a price had been one of the things that my mother had hated over nearly everything else. It had been a passion of hers right until the end, and somewhere along the way I guess I'd inherited it.

"Something wrong with that Naomi dear?" Jenna asked, patting me on the knee.

"I hate officials that expect to be bribed to do the right thing Jenna, I hate it that everyone seems to have their hand out all the time. I saw enough of that in Iraq and Afghanistan, some days it seemed like every fucking official we dealt with was on the take. "

"It's just the way of the world Naomi dear," she replied smiling at me sympathetically.

"It surely is ma'am," Cook added, "and I for one am glad that there are people out there that we _can_ buy; it sure makes my life easier sometimes."

"I know all of that guys," I said sighing, "doesn't mean I have to like it though."

"You don't have to like the world to live in it _Snowy_," he said, using my nickname with a wink.

"Well that's ok then _Panda_," I replied, wondering where he'd learned it, and why he chose to use it now. I guessed he'd been talking to JJ, or someone I'd once served with; after all if he can find out what my favourite drink used to be, a simple nickname shouldn't have been at all difficult to discover.

"…and if it helps get Emily back Naomi dear," Jenna interrupted, pulling me down to sit next to her again; "then I really don't mind it at all."

"Ok, ok…I get it," I said holding my hand up in mock surrender, "whatever works I understand."

Cook winked at me again and turned back to Mel and Chris who were looking on expectantly. "You guys ready?" he asked, causing the pulse in the side of my head to start throbbing all over again.

"We are," Mel replied with a nod.

"Still time to back out ladies," Cook said walking over to stand next to Jenna and I; his eyes flicking between us as he approached, "still time to go next door or something; you know I've got this covered for you."

I shook my head, sensing that Jenna was doing the same from where she was sat, Cook sighed and waved at Mel to turn the laptop around so we could all see it.

"Don't say I didn't try," he muttered as he started pacing, "fire it up Mel."

There was a real tension in the room as we all stared at the laptops tiny screen; Simon and Andy as twitchy as Jenna and I were. This was not going to be pleasant viewing for any of us; but for those of us that knew, and loved, one of the people we were about to see it was even worse. With the flick of a finger Mel launched the video and the video nasty began.

o+o+o

We sat and stared at the screen as it opened on what was almost the clichéd hostage video, the huge hand painted banner, covered in writing and images of swords and AK-47's. Centre screen were two battered looking wooden chairs flanked by two meatheads with the ubiquitous assault rifle held proudly, their faces covered by their red and white keffiyeh and their cheesy mirrored sunglasses. If it wasn't for the circumstances I'd have laughed out loud at their posturing; if this was the quality of the opposition we could be facing, the mission was looking more positive.

My positive thoughts were quickly extinguished as, with raised voices, screams and the unmistakable sound of blows two figures were dragged in; hands bound in front of them and improvised shackles on their feet.

The two figures were being dragged by ropes tight loosely around their necks and, despite the dark hoods that covered their heads, one of them was unmistakable.

Emily was looking even more ragged than she had in the last video we'd received; the skin around her wrist bindings was looking bloody and sore. Clearly the bastards had been mistreating her; the ropes were over tight and by the look of them they'd been soaked with water to make them even tighter.

My fears about her treatment were magnified when they roughly sat the two of them on the chairs and dragged the hoods from their heads; as I watched them blink wildly into the light. Both of them had obviously been hooded for a long time, and Emily's face was showing signs of another beating; though by the way she was holding herself she hadn't been broken yet.

"Oh my God," Jenna said from her seat next to me, her fingers digging into my thigh painfully as the camera zoomed in on each of the hostages faces, Emily's first giving us a lose up on the cuts and bruises. "Oh my poor dear, she looks awful; they both do."

"Hold it there Mel," Cook said as the camera pulled back to a wider shot. "Let's have a look at that."

"Spotted something boss?" I asked dragging my eyes away from Emily's battered face.

"Maybe, maybe not…you got those compound photos anywhere here?"

I nodded and got up, heading into my room to grab the intelligence folder that Mel had prepared for me. As soon as I handed it over Cook opened it and began rifling through the pictures.

"Got it," he announced suddenly, holding up an image in triumph. "See those three small windows above the banner, what do you guys reckon to these as a match?"

We all squinted as Cook held up the picture next to the screen, personally I wasn't completely convinced and neither, it seemed, was Mel.

"It _could_ be," she said carefully, looking between the image on the screen and the grainy picture, "but it's thin James, I don't think we can locate that room just on that."

"No," he conceded nodding and rifling through the few images we had, "but I can't see anything else that looks similar in that compound."

"We don't have a full three-sixty profile though boss," I warned, "we can't make assumptions here."

"We can add it to the bigger picture though," Cook replied, trying to salvage something from our scepticism, "everything helps, keep your eyes out for anything else that might be useful."

There were muttering of agreement from the CP team, but nothing from the woman sat next to me. Concerned I turned around to look at her, to see her eyes affixed onto the screen, tears running down her cheeks.

"You ok there Jenna?" I asked softly, causing James to pause in his appraisal of the room. "I know this is hard for you."

"I'll be fine dear; it's just, well…"

She gestured at the screen and I understood completely. Jenna could only see the human side of the video, and I'd briefly allowed the mission to distract me from the blooded face of the woman we both loved frozen on the screen.

"Sorry Mrs F," Cook said before I could say anything; "that was cruel of me, I guess I got a little caught up…"

"That's ok James," she said magnanimously, sitting back and wiping her face, "you're just looking for things that might help, trying to get them back; I understand."

She smiled weakly at us and nodded at the screen, "Do you think…" she asked, leaving the question hanging.

"Of course," Cook said quickly, waving at Mel to press play again. Within seconds the atmosphere in the room was so thick you could cut it with a knife, the two figures being roughly manhandled as they were paraded to the world.

"Say your names," the terrorist that seemed to be in charge screamed in barely legible English, his accent thick.

"Fuck you," Emily said, making my heart pound with pride and fear; her feistiness was normally a good thing, but these were people that you didn't fuck with, and I had a sudden premonition that the body that had been dropped off might have been hers. Seconds later my fears were amplified as the scumbag hit her angrily across the face, not once but twice; causing her head to loll forwards as she blacked out under the blows.

"Oh my poor Emily," Jenna sobbed from next to me and I felt her hand reach out to take mine, "my poor, poor Emily." I squeezed her hand reassuringly, though I wasn't feeling in any way reassured myself; my gut was telling me that this was bad, and that it was only going to get worse.

We watched in horror as Emily had water thrown into her face, her head being dragged backwards by her hair. As the camera zoomed in to a close up, her eyes looking dazed and unfocused as she recovered from the beating, a long and vicious looking knife was placed against her throat and pushed in, the skin sinking under the pressure.

"Say your name," the leader shouted again.

"Say your name Emily," I muttered under my breath, "don't be stupid, don't provoke the fucker any more than you already have."

"SAY YOUR NAME," the asshole screamed once more and I could see the knife dig in a little bit more, a thin line of blood appearing as her perfect skin was violated. Right at that moment I vowed that when I came across this big brave leader, he wouldn't survive the meeting.

"Emily Victoria Fitch," Ems said finally giving in; to my relief the knife was pulled away and the camera moved across to the terrified eyes of the other hostage. I'd met Brian before, when I bothered to sit into Emily's endlessly tiresome sales meetings. He wasn't one of the assholes, but he hadn't impressed me much; he was one of those 'also' men, the ones that try to fit in with the crowd; the ones that try to be popular by being sheep in the fold.

"Say your name," the fucker on the screen barked again, pressing his knife into Brian's throat.

"Brian Michael Adam Bartlett," he stammered, his eyes darting around wildly, uncontrollably even. Poor bloke looked justifiably terrified, somewhere along the way he'd been broken; either he wasn't as tough as my Emily, or he'd been the subject of the worst of the treatment.

The camera panned back from Brian's face, the knife removed as the terrorist, apparently satisfied with their acquiescence, stepped away and began posturing next to the gunmen, wielding his knife flamboyantly.

"Khuddam ul-Islam has a message to the infidel," he shouted, pulling a paper from his belt and thrusting it into Emily's bound hands, placing that knife at her throat again. "Read," he shouted, "read or die."

Jenna's hand gripped mine even tighter as we watched Emily struggle with the order, firstly trying to hold the paper in her injured hands, and secondly to actually read out the words.

"The infidel invaders of the Holy Lands," she started her voice sounding weak and feeble, "have sent their agents of evil to trade with the enemies of Allah. We of Khuddam ul-Islam have struck a blow against these tyrants and yet, even with our strength, they have refused to deal with honour and must be punished."

Oh sweet Jesus no," Jenna whispered as the threat was said.

"There must be no doubt of the truth of our beliefs," Emily continued, tears running down her face. "We, the warriors of Allah, will show the infidels of Fitch Industries that we mean what we say. One of these agents of evil will be put to death as you watch, and the death will be on your heart for evermore. Our demands will not be ignored, and for your treachery here this, we now demand the sum of thirty million United States Dollars for the release of our remaining prisoner, and we demand the release of all our brothers and sisters that are held by the enemies of Islam in America, India and Britain. Let this prove our cause."

As she finished, the paper was ripped from her hands and Emily was dragged from her chair by the rope at her neck, Brian following immediately after her. As the camera moved around the two bullyboys forced them onto their knees with the butts of their AK's, and shoved at them until they were sat with their heads bowed. Seconds later I realised why as the leader appeared carrying a brutal looking heavy scimitar, unsheathed and gleaming in the light of the camera.

As I watched in horror he pushed and prodded at Emily and Brian with the blade, swaggering around them, shouting his gibberish into the air.

"We need a translation of that," I heard Cook mutter to Mel, his words the only sound in the room. Mel simply nodded as the horror unfolded in front of our eyes, and I found myself begging to everything I believed in that we were mistaken and it was all a bluff; knowing now that the body that had been dumped was one of the two people on the screen.

I even prayed to the Gods that the body was Brian's, feeling sick for doing so, but not being able to help myself. I was sat on a fucking sofa, what felt like a million miles away, totally unable to help and that helplessness made me want Emily to live, even if that meant Brian must die.

It wasn't my finest hour.

His rant over, the leader of the group stood between Emily and Brian, the sword raised above his head. At a word the ropes around their necks were tightened and Emily and Brian lurched forwards, their pose telling me everything I needed to know.

"Look away Jenna," I said quickly as the camera pulled back for an even wider shot, showing the whole scene in perfect detail. Emily and Brian were sobbing freely now, Emily muttering under her breath, probably saying a prayer. Brian was begging for his life and his freedom, and the sight of that final humiliation was almost too much to bear.

"I can't Naomi," Jenna replied, her voice breaking, "I can't, I need to see this, whatever happens I need to know." Her hand was crushing mine now, and I was surprised to realise I was doing the same to hers. I knew what she meant, as sick as it sounds I couldn't not watch either; I had to know the truth of what had happened in that room as well.

On the screen the scumbag in chief stared down at his two victims, making practice swings at both of their necks, clearly revelling in their terror. I made a slight change to my vow at that moment, promising that when our paths crossed I'd do my best to ensure that not only he didn't survive the meeting, but that he suffered as much as my girl had at his hands.

"Ma-shah-Allah," the terrorist shouted, in a mockery of the way I'd heard the phrase used before, and with a cry he swung the scimitar as hard as he could, and as the severed head landed on the dusty floor of that awful room, the screams on the screen were matched by the ones in our room.

I stared at the screen as Jenna and Mel screamed at the sight of the head as it fell to the floor. This was no special effect, no movie prop designed to scare the viewer but ultimately leave them knowing that all was well. This was the real fucking thing, and as the headless corpse collapsed to the floor, the heart still pumping blood out of the severed arteries, Emily's scream of horror echoed through the tiny speakers as she screamed and screamed and screamed.

I found myself completely transfixed, unable to drag my eyes away from the death on the screen. I'd seen death many times before, death by my own hand, by enemy action, by random bombings. I'd seen death both up close and personal and with remote detachment, and yet this sickened me more than any of the deaths I had seen to date. Not moments ago I'd found myself wishing for Brian to die and for Emily to live…I now had my wish, for the moment at least. The sword had fallen on the exposed neck of Brian Michael Adam Bartlett, and his still open eyes were staring into the lens of the camera in open accusation.

We'd failed him; we might have failed them both.

My rage built as I watched the murderer wipe his blade on the front of Emily's shirt, the revulsion on her face clear as the sticky blood smeared across her. Handing his scimitar to one of his guards he dragged Emily to her feet, pulling on her long red hair. Moments later he had removed his knife and hacked through her locks, removing a good handful and showing it to the camera.

"Proof of our cause," he said in English as Emily was hooded and pulled out of camera shot. He picked up the severed head of poor Brian and held it out; head in one hand, hair in the other.

"Five days," he snarled into the camera, clearly loving his close up, "you have five days or the girl devil dies too."


	76. Countdown Begins

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but an insignificant amount of debt, a inconsiderable lack of talent, an incredible lack of awesomeness and a really, really bad temper.

**Chapter 76 – Countdown Begins**

_Z-Hour – 3 Days_

I sat there staring at the tiny screen as I had those few days ago in the boardroom at Close Protection; the image of Emily's screaming face burnt into my brain, a need to commit violence against someone or something burning through my veins.

"Easy there blondie," Cook said quietly his hand gripping my forearm tightly. "Nothing you can do right now but stay with me; don't go punching things again and doing yourself an injury, you don't want to risk the mission by being stupid."

"Take your hand off me boss," I said casually, trying to push down the boiling rage that was close to consuming me.

"Not a chance Snowy," he whispered, "not until you get a grip on yourself. Think about Emily; think about Jenna over there, we need to be strong for the both of them."

I closed my eyes for a second, trying to compose myself; taking deep breaths and reaching out for that safe place that Joanna had taught me to find, enveloping myself in my imaginary pool. It was pretty much a fruitless task, every time I tried to dive into that imaginary pool, envelop myself in its calming embrace; I was thwarted by the face of my girl. Not the slightly drunken, slightly smiling face that had preceded our kiss in that summer house, not the face that sucked me into that glowing happy place that Joanna had helped me find, the one where I felt completely loved. No, it was the beaten, sobbing face that intruded on my memories, the one that made my heart shatter into a million pieces.

Giving up on my 'safe place' as a bad idea, I opened my eyes to see that Mel had closed the video, the CP logo on the desktop replacing the sight of the severed head. I felt a hand drop onto my shoulder and turned to see Jenna's stricken face.

We didn't say anything, we didn't have to; I could see the pain and relief in her eyes. Her hand squeezed my shoulder tightly and she pulled me into a tight hug, my shoulder dampening under the steady stream of tears.

"You shouldn't have seen that Jenna," I murmured softly, awkwardly patting her on the back, "you really shouldn't."

"I wish I hadn't now," she sniffed, "but I had to; I had to see it all with my own eyes….oh Naomi how can they do such a thing? How on earth can they believe that murdering someone like that will help their cause?"

"The world's full of fuckers like them," I said, remembering something Whitey had said to me once before, "there's always someone to blow smoke up their assholes and tell them how wonderful they are."

"Naomi's right Mrs F," Cook said from the other side of me. "You've got to remember that these guys live in an isolated environment of extremism; it wouldn't matter to them if every single person in the outside world rose up as one and told them they were wrong. As long as their little crowd of friends sit back and applaud them, the bastards feel justified in what they do."

"But that sounds like every single political and religious group in the world James," she replied letting go of me and wiping away her tears. "But not all of them murder innocent people with a sword because they disagree with what they do for a living, or how they think, or what they believe."

There wasn't a reply to that, not from me anyway; I'd faced various levels of bigotry and hatred in my time, mostly from the people that supported the bastards with the sword. It was one thing to be jeered at or sneered at by kids at school, called a freak, and a weirdo and a queer, it was quite another to be spat at or stoned by people you don't know just because of the uniform you wore; especially when you thought you were there to help, it was something I don't think I'd ever understand.

"None of this makes any sense," Andy suddenly said from the far side of the room causing everyone to look up at him. "Sorry," he apologised when he realised we were all staring at him, "thinking out loud."

He looked down at the floor, clearly embarrassed at his unintentional comment, but he had piqued _my_ curiosity and I wasn't alone.

"How do you mean Andrew?" Jenna asked, still sniffing away her tears, "what doesn't make sense? They said they would kill a hostage if I didn't pay them their money and get the prisoners released, and that's exactly what they've done."

"It's the timing," he replied shaking his head. "There's something about the timing that's bugging me."

"Go on," Cook said encouragingly, "have we missed something?"

"I don't know Cookie," Andy replied his brow wrinkling in thought; "there's just something about that video that doesn't make sense to me. I mean, we were talking about the deadline earlier, but it's barely three am UK time."

"Yes, but it's well after their deadline here," Jenna said pointing at the clock; "it's after seven in the morning."

"Even so, it's a long way from here to where we think they are," Andy said causing us all to sit up at his words. "Surely there's no way they could have got Brian's body here in that time, not unless they've got access to a plane or a helicopter or something."

"Jesus, he's right; it really doesn't fit." Mel suddenly said, starting the video again and, to my relief, pausing it at the first frame; the wide shot of the room. "And there's something else as well, look at those windows James spotted earlier. I've just realised, that's sunlight coming through them."

"So what?" Cook said shaking his head, "I don't get you Mel."

"I do," I replied with a sudden sense of realisation, "the timing is wrong, Andy you're dead right…this isn't a good sign boss, this isn't a good sign at all."

"Would someone mind explaining this please," Jenna said, sitting forward on the edge of the sofa and staring at me. "Why is some sunlight in a window not a good sign?"

"Because it means they didn't stick to their timetable Mrs F," Cook answered as the penny, presumably, dropped. With a frown of his own he got up from the sofa and began to pace around the suite again. "I think Andy and Naomi are right here, the timing is all wrong…even if they went by local time for the deadline there's no way they killed Brian at midnight when the deadline elapsed; not if the sun was shining in through those windows; he must have been killed earlier, and there's no telling how early."

"The light might just be external lights Mr Cook," Chris suggested shyly. "We don't know that it is sunlight."

"The light doesn't fit that Chris," Mel said quickly, "it looks natural, and I think we'll find that the light levels go up and down…probably as clouds pass the sun. I think they've made another mistake here."

"How is it a mistake?" Jenna asked shaking her head, "Naomi please, I don't understand."

"They had no intention of honouring their deadline," I told her sadly, "if we're right, well, this film was made at the very latest sometime yesterday afternoon. When was the body dumped Mel?"

"About three o'clock this morning according to our source," Chris answered, "our time that is."

"Then Andy's right, there's no way they could have filmed that, and got the body here in that time if they had stuck to their deadline; the bastards are just fucking with us."

"What does that mean for Emily?" Jenna asked, her voice wavering.

"It doesn't mean anything Mrs F," Cook said quickly, trying to reassure her. "We have no idea what this means, but the fact that they killed Brian first means that they must recognise her importance."

"Poor Brian," Jenna continued, "does anyone know if he had a family? I don't know anything about him."

"I think he was divorced Jenna," I said, racking my brains for anything about him. "I don't remember hearing anything about kids though."

I felt a little bit guilty not knowing anything about the latest victim of this stupid fucking vendetta. Brian wasn't someone that had popped up on my radar when I'd been at Fitch Industries, though I suspected that Emily or Bonnie would be able to tell us all about him if they were here. To me he was anonymous, just another body that would be chalked up against my name; another person to haunt my dreams, if I ever managed to get to sleep again that was.

As we sat in silent communion over the death we had just observed, the grim humanity of the situation coming into sharp focus by Jenna's question, I had a sudden thought.

"Boss?" I said, waiting for him to stop pacing and look across at me. "I think we're going to have to move sooner rather than later. Just because they say they're giving us five days to meet their demands doesn't mean they mean it. Judging by this there's no telling when they might hurt Emily."

Cook nodded, and I knew he was thinking the same thing as I was; there was no guarantee that Emily was even alive still. For all we knew she was already dead, her beheading already on film and waiting for delivery.

It wasn't something I wanted to think about, let alone say; Jenna didn't need that added to her list of troubles, she looked like she was carrying enough.

"I think you're right Snowy," he replied, "I think it's time we got prepared. How fast can we be ready Mel?" Cook asked, turning to face her.

"If you leave for the testing area today? I don't know James…three days, perhaps four."

"Let's make it three, we'll aim to be at the safe house you've set up day after tomorrow, then we go in as planned. Can you make that happen?"

"We can try," Mel said looking across at Chris who just nodded, "it might cost us to bribe a few people to look the other way, that sort of thing."

"Money is not an object Melanie," Jenna said getting to her feet and straightening the robe she'd pulled over her silk pyjamas. "Do whatever you need to do, I'll pay anything to get my daughter back, even the thirty million dollars they're asking if I have to. Now, if you'll excuse me I need to talk to my family. I'd rather they heard this news from me rather than from the press, and I think we'll need to make a statement as well."

"You heard the lady," Cook said to his Ops chief as Jenna walked back into her room. "We've got no time to waste, sorry about the lack of sleep folks, but we can sleep on the journey. Mel, start working on getting what we need to the safe house. Chris, the rest of the team are arriving tomorrow, I'll need you to pick them up and sent them straight up there; and I want you two to pull that tape apart for anything you can find…absolutely anything.

Snowy, you Andy, Simon and I will leave for the testing area as soon as we can get a flight so lets get what we need packed up and ready; time to go to work people. Zero hour is three days from now and time is tight; you all with me?"

"Yes Sir," I said, nodding appreciatively at the way he had taken charge; around me I heard the others agreeing in their own ways. It was good to know that finally we were preparing for the mission ahead, and I allowed myself to feel a moment of exhilaration before sinking back into the dark place that had consumed me, practically since Baghdad.

"Ok kids let's get going; Naomi, do me a favour and check on Jenna would you? I think she's going to need someone right now and you're the closest thing to family she's got."

"I'll do my best Panda," I said as they all prepared to leave. "What time do you want us to be ready?"

"I want you to be ready as soon as possible Snowy," he said clapping his hand on my shoulder, "but I don't think Jenna should be coming with us do you?"

"She's going to have to come up to the hotel at the testing area boss," I said shaking my head. "She's the only reason we have for going up there ourselves, and I know she'll want to be up there for when we bring Emily home."

"Well see if you can get her to stick to the plan then kid, and keep your spirits up too ok? Don't need you doing anything stupid."

"I'll keep an eye on her James, and I'll stick to your plan like I promised." Jenna's voice interrupted us from the doorway to her bedroom. "We have a few meetings to go to and I have to try and arrange a few things, but I'll make sure they're all done this morning. Now run along dear, Naomi and I have packing to do if we're all going to head up to the demonstration site at Srinagar today; and I'm sure you have a lot to organise yourself."

"That I do ma'am," Cook said with a half salute in her direction and a knowing wink in mine at her words. "I'll see you both later. Naomi keep that phone of yours handy, and if you find the time to take a nap…"

"I'll have it on my pillow, yes boss…now do as Mrs Fitch asks and piss off."

o+o+o

The suite was silent after everyone left, Jenna and I sat on separate sofas lost in our thoughts; the images I'd seen burnt into my brain as deeply as the sight of my mother the morning I'd woken up to find her gone; as deeply as the sight of Whitey's body lying in the dust of a Afghan street, the blood seeping into the dirt and sand. Emily's face as she'd stared into the camera was just one more painful image that I'd have to try to live with.

Though this time at least I had the opportunity to redeem myself; in my own eyes if not in Emily's. This time I had the chance to go and get her back.

"Would you like a drink dear?" Jenna suddenly said dragging me from my gloomy thoughts, "I think I need another strong coffee before we get started."

"I'll do it Jenna," I said getting up and stretching, "I'm sure I saw a kettle in that dresser over there."

"Don't be silly dear," she said patting the chair next to her, "we'll order from room service again; I think we both need to talk about what we've just seen, I know I do anyway."

I nodded grimly as she picked up the rooms phone for the third time that morning and ordered our drinks. Mouthing what I was going to do, and getting a nod from my host I took the opportunity to head for my bathroom and freshen up; the mere act of taking a quick shower and brushing my teeth making me feel slightly more human. When I walked back into the suite, robe wrapped tightly around me and rubbing a towel through my wet hair, I found it deserted, Jenna nowhere to be seen.

There was, however, a hastily scribbled note on the coffee table and the sound of running water from Jenna's room, her note telling me that my idea was so good she'd followed my example and headed for the shower herself. She's also told me that room service was on its way and that I should listen out for a knock at the door.

With an amused smile at her words, I sat down on the sofa and carried on drying my hair while I waited. It wasn't long before the knock at the door came and I'd just ushered the employee from the room when Jenna appeared in a matching outfit to mine.

"Well aren't we the very height of fashion?" she said with a faint smile tugging at the lapels of her gleaming white hotel robe as she sat down.

"First time anyone's said that about me," I said as I sat down next to her again and pulling the tray towards us. "Usual?"

"Can I have an extra spoonful of sugar please Naomi? I think I need it after this morning's shocks. Actually," she added thoughtfully, "I think I'd like something much stronger to put into it, but this will have to do for now."

I nodded as I poured her a drink, adding the two large spoonful's of sugar and stirring before adding the milk and passing it over to her.

"Mmmmm, that hits the spot," she said happily as she took a long sip while I made my own drink.

"Sure does," I said sitting back, leaning against the sofa arm so I could look at her. "So, how are you feeling Jenna? That wasn't a pretty thing to have to see."

"I don't think it's sunk in dear, it's like it wasn't real, though I know it was. I'm not sure how I should feel either; relieved, upset, I just don't know."

There was a distinct break in Jenna Fitch's voice as she spoke, her impressive emotional barrier sounding close to breaking.

"I'm sorry dear," she said taking a deep breath before diving into her cup again, "this must seem so stupid to someone like you."

"Why's that? I asked gently, trying not to poke at the open wound.

"Well with the things you've seen, the things that you've told me and Emily about; and all the things you haven't. It must seem so silly."

"It doesn't seem silly at all Jenna," I said, shifting my way along the sofa to get closer to her. "We all go through this in some way or another. That was as unpleasant for me as anyone else."

"Really?" she asked her face looking pained.

"Really," I replied reaching out to awkwardly pat her knee. "I felt terrible as we watched that video because I wanted Brian to die; well…I didn't want anyone to die," I corrected myself quickly. "…but if one of them was to die I didn't want it to be Emily. That's not a nice thing to want; and when they killed him, I felt really guilty for thinking that."

"That's how I felt dear, _exactly_ how I feel right now. I'm so relieved that Emily's still alive, but I'm feeling terrible about poor Brian, for wanting him to die."

"You shouldn't," I said shaking my head to emphasise the point, "what we're feeling is perfectly normal Jenna, so the head-shrinkers used to tell us when we lost someone. I'm sure Emily and Joanna would tell you the same thing if they could. It's natural to feel confused like that, trust me I know."

"Emily's not going to be the same person when she gets home is she Naomi?" Jenna said suddenly with tears running down her cheeks. "Not after going through something like that, not after seeing someone killed in front of her."

I shook my head, even though part of me was sure my Emily was the sort of person that would have taken Brian's place if the chips had fallen her way; deep down I suspected that human nature would have taken over when they'd been dragged to their knees, when they knew their fate was sealed. I was sure that she'd have been thinking the same thing I would have been in her shoes, _'him not me, him not me; kill him, not fucking me!'_

"It'll be tough for her," I replied eventually, realising that Jenna was waiting for me to respond, "but she's strong Jenna. She's really, really strong; and when we get her back she'll have people around her that care…that's going to make a huge difference."

"That's true," she replied squeezing my arm, "she really will. The family will look after her, and she's got some very good friends now with James and Elizabeth…you'll be there with us too, won't you Naomi?"

That last question was asked almost shyly, as if double checking that I hadn't changed my mind since I'd sent them both the messages I had back in Blighty.

"If she still want's me around," I said, finally voicing the fears that had dogged me since I sent the message that Emily never received. "If I haven't fucked things up completely by being an arsehole for the last few weeks."

"She never thought that you know Naomi dear," Jenna replied, reaching out and grabbing my hand tightly. "She did understand, in fact the only person she thought was an arsehole was her, after she turned up at James' making demands."

"Even so," I said shaking my head as she squeezed my knuckles, "I was a twat to her, and she didn't deserve that…I just couldn't help myself."

"I know dear and Emily knew that too; and what's more I know she still loves you, she'll want you around when we get her home. In fact, I suspect she'll need you more than any of us."

"Why's that?" I asked, watching as she smiled at my furrowed brow.

"Because you'll be better than anyone at understanding what she's going through right now won't you?"

I shook my head to signal my lack of understanding, causing Jenna to smile at me sadly.

"You've been there haven't you dear? Or at least, you've had to deal with coming home after something awful like this."

I nodded, sipping at my coffee and avoiding her look. I knew about doing that, I knew about doing that all too well.

o+o+o

_August 2004 – Cheltenham England_

"_So that's what's been going on Mum," I said as I ran my fingers across the carved name on the headstone. "I managed to survive my first tour in Iraq and did so well I've been given a transfer to another unit with a decent chance for promotion; it means I've pretty much got to go straight out to Afghanistan, but I'm sure I'll be good."_

_I smiled as I rambled on into thin air, telling my mum all about the things I'd done during my time in Basra, the patrols, the losses, the friends I'd made. It was stupid, and I didn't believe in any of it, but I'd been going to see her every chance I'd got since basic training. It made me feel good to 'talk' to her, despite how stupid it no doubt looked._

"_So I've got a couple of weeks off on leave now mum, don't know what the hell I'm going to do with myself though. Pauls off visiting his family and I'm sort of stuck on my own."_

_It wasn't strictly true that, I did have some sort of a plan. As soon as my leave started I'd left the base in my battered old Vauxhall Astra and driven straight to my old home town; but my ultimate destination was a bit further south. I'd wanted to try and connect with my past when I'd returned so I'd booked a short stay in a static caravan park in Weston-Super-Mare; nothing but me, my Open University books and a couple of bottles of Jack. It wasn't much, but it was a place that mum and I had been too when I was younger and after the mayhem of Iraq I needed somewhere where I could wind down; somewhere I could get myself together ready for my next tour, somewhere familiar where I could feel safe._

_Fuck knows I needed it after spending eight months living on my nerves._

"_Anyway mum, I'd better get going if I'm going to make it before the park closes and I have to bivvy out on the beach, I've had enough of sleeping in sand for a while, it gets everywhere if you know what I mean. I'll come and see you again before I ship out though, I promise, make sure everything's ok."_

_I got to my feet and dusted myself down, placing my hand on the top of the granite stone that I was still paying for. "I'll see you soon mum," I said sadly, "love you, miss you."_

_I walked away pretty quickly, after saying my goodbyes, blinking back the tears that threatened to come. I'd promised myself a few short months ago that I wouldn't cry in public anymore but coming home and visiting mum hadn't made keeping that promise easy._

_After a couple of hours of swearing at the heap of shit that I laughingly called a car, all the time wishing I'd spent the extra and bought the Ford with the air conditioning instead, I arrived at the park and booked in; being shown to the caravan and handed the keys by the surly faced owner. The British summer was in full force when I'd finished unpacking my belongings, a strong wind blowing in from the coast bringing a steady drizzle of rain with it. _

_With a sigh I grabbed my coat my stomach grumbling, loudly protesting the fact that I hadn't eaten since breakfast back on base, and headed out through the rain towards the holiday park's bar, only to find it shrouded in darkness, the door firmly locked._

_I wasn't happy; I had been looking forward to a hot meal and a couple of pints before retiring to my caravan and working my way through my whiskey. Now I was going to have to find somewhere else to eat. Slamming the door of my piece of shit car I drove off the site, thankful that I hadn't started drinking already, and followed the signs towards town._

_Ten minutes later I was completely and hopelessly lost; the signs confusing to say the least, the ones I could see that was. For the last few months I'd been driving familiar roads, guided by satellites in the sky. After that, the roads of Weston-Super-Mare were a fucking labyrinth and I was tired, hungry and now had a desperate need of something to eat and ideally a pint of something seriously alcoholic. To my relief though the blazing lights of a huge supermarket came into sight, and I gave up on the hunt for easy food and decided to stock up my cupboards for the week._

_My problems started at the entrance, the trolleys locked with the infernal devices that needed a pound coin to open them. Thwarted already I had to walk around to the lights of the cash machines and then head into the store to find someone that could give me change._

_One hurdle sorted I pushed my trolley, the broken wheels juddering along annoyingly, through the barriers and into the shop itself. Considering it was nearing seven o'clock the store was extremely busy, bustling with the noises of people chatting, children crying and music from several different places. It was the sound of chaos, but not the sort of chaos I was used to. I'd spent the last eight months living in a war zone and the sudden change in surroundings was, to say the least, a shock to the system._

_As I pushed my trolley past a display of wonderfully smelling bread I was startled by the blaring of the stores tannoy system, the stentorian voice calling the staff to the checkouts. I was feeling more than a little bit shell shocked by the now unfamiliar noises but I needed to get sorted, needed to get a firm grip of myself. _

_With a fierce pounding in my head I began to work my way around the store, looking through the aisles for things to buy. Thirty minutes later I was standing in front of a huge shelf of cereals, my trolley still empty, blinking back tears for the second time that day as I stared at the endless selection completely confused; my mind having gone completely blank._

"_Are you all right there Miss?" a strange voice asked, and I turned to see one of the shop security staff staring at me._

"_I guess so, I was just deciding on what I wanted to buy, why?" I asked, blinking and shaking my head trying to bring my brain out of its fugue._

"_Because you've been staring blankly at those boxes of Corn Flakes for about ten minutes Miss," he said with a frown, "people were concerned about you."_

"_Ten minutes?"_

"_About that yes," he replied with a smile, "are you sure everything is ok?"_

"_I dunno," I replied shrugging and walking away, "I really don't."_

_I wandered the store in a bit of a daze after that, my mind continually running laps around my head. I picked up things almost at random, putting them into the basket haphazardly as I chose them. The security guard was still keeping an eye on me; I could see him out of the corner of my eye, his efforts to be discrete wasted on someone that had spent every day for the last eight months looking for anything out of the ordinary._

_Out of the ordinary…_

_That was the final hurdle to coming home, my own Bechers Brook, the giant fence that seemed desperate to cause me to fall. Nothing around me right now was ordinary any more, not to me anyway. I'd lived inside the protective cocoon that was the Army for so long I was totally out of my depth in the 'real' world, left to fend for myself all on my own. For the last few years all my meals were provided for me on base, or out of field rations. My waking and sleeping times coordinated by our schedules, or interrupted by hostile action. _

_The truth of the matter was I hadn't been to a supermarket for more than booze or party snacks since I'd joined up, and never on my own; Whitey normally having my back whenever we went off base. I didn't really know what I wanted, or what I needed; this was my first time shopping in years, and it was completely freaking me out; there was too much choice, too much noise, and far too many people._

_The chaplain had talked to us all before we shipped out, told us that it would be strange when we got home; that it would take a little bit of time for us to adapt to being back with our families. Whitey and I had shrugged it off with a laugh and a knowing look to each other; him because he was like that, me because I didn't have any family at all. _

_For a second I thought about calling him, making sure he was ok, wondering if I could use that familiar voice to hold onto my sanity. Eventually though I decided that what I needed to do was leave; head back to the caravan and safety._

_I finished up my shop by just grabbing a load of familiar looking tinned rations and heading for the quietest checkout at the far end of the store left, hoping against hope that I'd be able to navigate my way back to the campsite without incident. _

_In the end I didn't get further than the car park before nearly breaking down completely, fighting back the tears harder than ever before. As I tried to control my breathing I found that my normally rock steady hands were shaking uncontrollably. It was a scary feeling, not to have complete control of my body, and it was several minutes before I managed to get hold of myself; and several minutes more before I could bring myself to start the car and drive away. _

_I was feeling worse by being at home than I ever had being under fire, at least there I had friends; at least there I was surrounded by people that understood._

o+o+o

"Are you ok there Naomi," Jenna asked as we sat in the car we were being driven around the bustling streets of New Delhi in.

"Yeah," I said nodding, "just a bit annoyed and anxious to get away from here. I need to feel like I'm doing something useful you know?"

I wasn't kidding and judging by the strength of her squeeze on my hand I wasn't the only one. Today had started out badly with that video, and it hadn't got any better.

When the news of Brian's murder hit the news Jenna had been inundated by telephone calls from friends, press, and government officials alike; and she'd spend all her time as we flitted from meeting to meeting with her phone glued to her ear. Katie had been busy back at home as well; Jenna's early morning wake up call spurring her into action. I'd already seen footage of her on the internet, talking to reporters outside her London flat; but this footage was different from the previous ones because stood next to Katie was James; looking smart in a suit, his arm wrapped protectively around her shoulders.

The statement they'd given to the waiting media had been carefully prepared; the obligatory, and genuine, sorrow for Brian's loss and of course their concern for Emily's continued well being. Accompanying this was an assurance to the kidnappers that the extra money was being raised, and a plaintive request for them to deal in good faith this time.

"_You said that you believed we were not acting with honour,"_ she said, her face flickering as the camera flashes exploded around her. _"I can assure you that we did everything in our power to meet the midnight deadline you set; please I beg you, do the same, act with honour and allow us the time you set once more."_

A tear rolled down her cheek as she said those final words, a sorrowful tear that hid the anger I knew she was actually feeling; frankly the girl was in the wrong business, Katie Fitch-Brace had either been taking acting lessons from Effy, or she was a natural. It had been Jenna's suggestion that Katie really play up the distraught brother and sister look for the cameras, the intention being to put more pressure on the people in charge back at home.

It might seem cynical, emphasising their pain like that, but it was a tool that we had to use. The public loved a grieving family, and a grieving family member pleading for their sister's life was guaranteed front page news, and guaranteed public sympathy.

I doubted it would have any effect on the scumbags that had hunted down Emily, caring not for anyone that came between them and their fucked up plans and ideals. But what I did recognise was a good diversionary tactic, an opportunity to lull them into a false sense of security; let them think that they had won.

I approved of that, it was easy to let them believe that they had the upper hand now; their time was coming.

"Only annoyed," Jenna said squeezing my hand again, "I'm bloody furious I don't mind telling you, thank heavens that there are people supporting us now; if we left it up to our officials here nothing would be getting done."

Jenna was right, despite the people that were, after some political pressure, now trying to help us, there had been an awful lot that were just getting in our way; including an officious little prick that had incurred her wrath when we were trying to arrange the repatriation of the people that were killed in the ambush.

I don't think he enjoyed the exchange, I know Jenna hadn't.

"Is it too much to ask for people to make this kind of thing easier for us?" she'd complained as we'd walked away from the building, "all I want to do is the right thing by those brave people."

"Bureaucrats," I'd answered sadly, "he's probably terrified that the people above him will criticise him for helping us after the last couple of days."

"This has nothing to do with getting Emily back though Naomi," she'd protested, "this is about doing the right thing for those that we lost."

I couldn't disagree with her; it was frustrating to have barriers constantly placed in front of us. I was a simple squaddie, I had a mission plan in front of me and I wanted to get moving; fucking around like this wasn't helping.

"Naomi?"

"Yes?" I answered, turning back to Jenna from where I'd been watching the road around us.

"You went away from me again there dear," she said smiling, "are you sure you're ok?"

"Sorry Jenna," I replied apologetically, "I do that sometimes. I'm fine, honest."

"Is that your thing dear?" she said, and then smiled and I shook my head emphatically. "It'll be our little secret dear," she said knowingly, "I promise I won't tell Emily."

"Tell her if you like," I snorted, "she already knows I spend a lot of time in my head; my mum told her…well, sort of."

"On those tapes she left you?" she asked with a raised eyebrow, "Emily told me about them, but not what was on them."

"Yeah," I replied, secretly happy that Emily hadn't told Jenna everything about that. Sharing my mum's tapes with her had been something I considered private, and it warmed my heart to think that Emily had felt the same way.

"I think you're bluffing," she said with a knowing tap on her nose, "I think I've discovered this 'thing' of yours Naomi, I'll be watching out for it now."

I shrugged noncommittally and went back to looking out of the windows for possible trouble. It was easy to let her think that, after all I did do it an awful lot; but it wasn't really my nervous 'thing', Only one person that I knew of had sussed out a sure fire way of telling when I was nervous about something, and he wouldn't be telling anyone my secrets.

Lunch time came and went without a mention as we packed up at the hotel and headed for the airport. The Indian Army had laid a plane on for us to take us up North to the testing area and I couldn't help but smile a little at Jenna's face as we were dropped off next to a huge Russian transport plane, its rear ramp lowered as pallet loads of boxes were being loaded into its cavernous belly.

"It'll be just like old times Snowy," Cook called out over the noise of the airfield, startling me slightly. If it wasn't for the accent I could have sworn it was Whitey that had spoken to me.

"You ok there Sarge," Jenna said looking at me strangely, "you look like you've seen a ghost."

"More like heard one," I muttered cryptically, not realising that she had heard me. Quickly I hitched my kit bag over my shoulder and looked around, "Where's our contact do you think?"

Jenna looked at me shrewdly as I changed the subject, but to my relief didn't say anything about my comment, eying the transport plane suspiciously.

"They can't seriously expect us to get on that thing can they?" she said finally; provoking laughter from all around her. "What?" she demanded finally looking frustrated at us all.

"That's luxury transport for some of us Mrs F," Cook said winking at me, "I've spent a lot of time in the back of planes like that, looking forward to the trip actually."

Jenna scowled at him, her eyes narrowing dangerously, if I was honest I felt like doing the same. I'd spent time in the back of transport planes like that as well, and I _wasn't_ looking forward to it, my last ride hardly being an enjoyable trip. In the end though it wasn't to be, our contact finally arrived and ushered us across into a small, boxy, twin-engined prop-plane.

I was lost in my thoughts once more as the engines fired up, drowning out all opportunity for conversation, despite the headsets we'd been given by the uniformed crew member that had made sure we were strapped in prior to take off. I'd deliberately sat near the back of the plane away from everyone else, trying to avoid contact with the others during a flight I knew I wasn't going to enjoy.

o+o+o

A couple of hours of bone juddering misery later we were warned that we were on approach to the tiny airfield at Srinagar, my stomach lurching as we began our descent. Staring at the team in front of me I could see them mentally preparing themselves, this was the beginning of the mission for us, and I could sense the building tension in the air, a tension that had nothing to do with the creaking of the airframe around us as the plane drifted towards the ground.

Ten minutes later I was breathing again, the wheels thumping into the tarmac with a distinct lack of grace. Still, they said any landing you could walk away from was a good one; and, as the engines whined to a halt, walk away from it I did. Stepping through the hatch into a cool, fresh afternoon; it was a pleasant change to the heat and pollution of the capital and, despite the slight heat haze that the runways were emitting, I felt comfortable in my own skin for the first time that week.

"Ready kid?" Cook said slapping me on the back as I stood and waited for Jenna to get into the vehicles that had arrived to transport us to our hotel.

"You know it boss," I replied nodding away, "no turning back now."

"Not a fucking chance kid, no turning back until we've got your girl."

"Thanks Panda," I said with a wink, "that makes me feel a hell of a lot better about things."

"Whatever," he replied with a little hint of embarrassment in his voice, "now get in that car Snowy, everything's going to be fine. Three days from now and we'll be prising Emily off you with a crowbar, and you'll be loving every minute of playing the heroic rescuer."

"Yeah, whatever," I said shoving him towards the open door getting a grin and a wink from Simon and Andy as I did so. I gestured at the pair of them to get in with a scowl before slamming the door and getting into the front of the vehicle.

Three days to go, well a bit less than that actually. Three short days and we'd have Emily home safe and sound.

If only I could persuade my gut that it was going to be that easy.


	77. Trials, (and Tribulations)

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a small amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness and a really, really bad temper.

.

**Chapter 77 – Trials, (and Tribulations).**

_Z-Hour – 3 Days_

We arrived at our tiny hotel on the outskirts of Northern town of Srinagar just as the weather started to break, clouds rolling in from off the surrounding hills that brought with them a rain that soaked everything it touched instantly and left the unforgettable smell of wet soil in the air. "Perfectly normal," our liaison from the Indian Army said as he held up an umbrella to protect Jenna from the downpour. "We get these small weather problems every now and again."

"It's fine Major Toor," Jenna replied nodding when she was safely under the canopy of the entrance, waiting for the rest of the team to disembark. "It's actually quite lovely, a nice break from the heat down South."

"We were sorry to hear about your daughter Mrs Fitch," the officer said, "let me assure you that we are doing everything we can to ensure her safe return, and a full enquiry is underway to investigate how such an incident occurred in our country."

"Thank you Major," Jenna replied maintaining her polite formality, her shield against the world. "Any efforts you make are very much appreciated I assure you. May I introduce the team that have agreed to assist you with the demonstration of our equipment tomorrow?"

The Major nodded and Jenna introduced us all, going from one to another telling him who we were and what we were going to be doing; implanting our cover story on anyone that might be listening. After the perfunctory nods and handshakes, we were escorted inside and shown to the rooms that had been prepared for us so we could get changed and ready for our ride to the demonstration site. We had that cover to keep up, and though I suspected that someone, somewhere in the Indian Army knew what we were up to, no-one was going to let anything out of the bag.

"Naomikins," Cook's voice followed a banging on my door, "you ready? Time's a ticking."

"Coming," I shouted, zipping up my jacket and stuffing my phone into my pocket, "keep your hair on Cook."

I found him leaning against the wall opposite to my door, with a wry smile on his face; Andy and Simon flanking him mimicking his pose.

"Aw, don't you all look cute," I said at their posturing, "tell me, when's the wedding?"

"Couple of months from now if you must know Snowy," Cook said surprising me slightly. "You should be getting your invite any day soon."

"Another reason to get Miss Emily back then Sarge," Andy teased, "I'm sure that invite will be have a 'plus one' on it and I don't think I've got any chance of being your date have I?"

"I wouldn't bank on it, no," I said with a raised eyebrow, "though if I _am_ invited, and I _do_ take Emily, that means my team will need to be on hand to provide security for us both…so that will mean no partying for you pair of fuckers. In fact I think I'll recommend to Emily that she and the entire family needs twenty four hour protection throughout the event from everyone assigned to them. Make sure you earn your overtime, that'll make you two popular with the team won't it?"

The three of them looked at me in surprise. I held their look for a second before winking, "do you ladies want to play some more?" I asked as Cook's lips started to twitch in amusement.

"Thought not, shall we then?" I asked waving at them to move on and knocking on Jenna's door. I got a friendly cuff from Simon as he passed and a clap on the shoulder and a smile from Andy.

"Ready Mrs Fitch?" I said as the door opened revealing my travel worn charge.

"As I'll ever be Naomi dear, she said shaking her head, "this is one ride I'm not looking forward to."

"Better than flying," I said with a smile, "give me the back of a four wheeled transport any day."

Half an hour later I wasn't so sure; the truck we were being transported in being functional, but not a patch on the four wheel drive vehicles I'd been used to during my time in the army. Despite the discomfort that the wooden bench seats were causing everyone I was pleased that the army were looking after us. There were two more trucks, both filled with troops, in our little convoy; nothing being taken to chance this time. It allowed me the time to relax a little; ever since the flight over I'd been right on the edge, and it was good to close my eyes and know that we were in no danger.

"Too early for shut eye Snowy," Cook said, shaking my shoulder and waking me up from the light doze I'd drifted into, my old habits resurfacing again. "Come on you, we're here."

We were indeed at the testing grounds where India's XV Corps were, in part, being mobilised to test new technology and old. All around us was the sound of mobilised troops; and the sounds of vehicles as they shipped them from place to place.

It was a familiar sound, and it made me feel almost relaxed to hear it; it was just like old times, times I understood.

"Sounds good doesn't it kid?" Cooks asked as a couple of helicopters flew overhead, the sound of the rotors briefly drowning out the sound of the staging area.

"Sounds good boss," I said as I watched them vanish over the hills, the sounds fading almost immediately as they dipped below the horizon.

"You ready Snowy?" he asked clapping his hands onto my shoulders and staring down into my eyes.

"Think so boss," I replied with a blink, shaking my head to clear it of the mental fog of times gone by. "Let's go do this."

The next hour was spent demonstrating the different types of weaponry, that Fitch Industries were hoping to sell, to various bigwigs within the Indian brass. Andy and I took the assault rifles, from the familiar M4 variants to the HK417 rifles that I'd specifically requested after my success with the long barrelled version in the US. For the mission I'd asked for the short barrel 'Assaulter' variant because I thought it would be better for CQB work, and Bonnie and Katie hadn't let me down; a gleaming set of oiled weapons ready for me in the crates. Daylight was fading as we ran through drill after drill with the weapons we were familiar with, and trained the various interested parties on firing, reloading and field stripping the weapons.

I may not have really been trying to make a sale for Fitch Industries, but my stupid professional pride wouldn't allow me to do a crap job; and by the time the evening rolled around and it was time for us to call it quits, I knew I'd impressed more than a few people.

Cook was also in his element; for most of the afternoon he'd been about a mile away from the rest of us demonstrating the sniper rifles with Simon. He had some of the finest toys that Bonnie could provide, and when he appeared back at the staging area he had a grin on his face as wide as the Mississippi river he grew up on.

"Blondie let me tell you that I'm recommending those ladies back home for a fucking medal, they have come through for us like you would not believe."

"I'd noticed," I replied, tossing one of the 417's over to him; watching with a grin as he automatically checked the 'butter smooth' action of the unloaded weapon.

"Nice, no C-Mag this time?" he asked with a grin.

"No not this time boss," I replied winking back, "I thought we'd be better sticking with the old fashioned kit. Besides, I doubt our method of arrival will do something like that any favours"

"It's supposed to be fine Snowy," he teased, "and you know it was the only thing that let you beat me, do you not think you should reconsider?"

"I think I'd prefer a no risk strategy this time boss, given the circumstances."

"That I can understand kid, I surely can. What about the suppressors, did they arrive as well?"

"In the crate next to you boss," I said with a nod. "We're all sorted, all we have to do now is fit them and test them and we can do that tomorrow. I take it the 'Intervention' meets your needs?"

"Oh it surely does my friend, and then some. The guys that I was showing it to were practically drooling over it, especially with that nifty little suppressor on the front. At the range I'm planning to be shooting at it's not even fair…no wonder you got so close to my score in that competition; I'm beginning to think that fat fuck was right, it was almost cheating."

"Yeah well do me a favour this time," I said bristling slightly to his teasing; that allegation still not sitting right with me. "This time when you go _inside_ the building, don't shoot the fucking hostage ok? I'd probably have to take that quite personally."

"Not a problem Snowy," he answered seriously. "There's no clock this time, we do things right and by the numbers; no mistakes on this mission."

I smiled at the look on his face knowing that he meant every word and as we met up with Jenna and headed back to the hotel I was feeling pretty good. Everything I'd asked for was either in the crates in our staging area or already on its way to the safe house. All we needed to do now was confirm that the final parts of our plan were falling into place; and we had an entire day tomorrow to arrange them.

o+o+o

_Zero Hour – 2 Days_

The morning of the next day saw the team sat in a private room tucking into a hearty breakfast and chewing over some facts. The phone lines had been as busy as ever during the evening and we had a lot to catch up on.

"I spoke to Mel first thing Snowy, she's got rest of the stuff you wanted on the way," Cook said casually; keeping the actual specifics of what we had planned hidden from Jenna as we'd agreed, our 'need to know' policy still firmly in force.

"All of it?" I asked swallowing my scrambled eggs hurriedly and choking slightly as I did so.

"Absolutely everything," he said chewing on some toast. "She's pulled out all the stops and Chris is having it shipped to the staging area, should be there this afternoon."

"Good," I said nodding, that's the last of it then yeah?"

"Sure is, we're almost ready to go. The rest of the team should be arriving with the gear; so we're good to go."

Jenna was strangely silent during our little interchange, her face looking troubled. I knew she still wasn't happy about the idea of us going in to get Emily, but she wasn't saying anything; the dream of getting her daughter back safely hopefully overriding her concerns.

"Almost good to go," Simon said from opposite me, "we still need to organise the exfil."

"Exfil?" Jenna asked, looking up at me from her barely touched breakfast.

"Our extraction," I said quietly, "or more precisely Emily's; you were trying to arrange a helicopter for us."

"Oh yes," she said nodding away, "I need to chase Katie about that, but when I last asked she said it was pretty much sorted. I'll ring her now and make sure."

"No hurry Mrs F," Cook said quickly, "we've got all of today to finalise things if we need to. Snowy, I take it you've got the backup plan in place?"

I nodded my mouth full with food; the back up plan was simple and involved nothing more than bundling Emily up and talking her with the rest of us as we headed for home. It wouldn't get her to safety as fast as a helicopter, but it would get her to safety; as long as we weren't intercepted on the way that was, though our intel' told us that wasn't likely to happen.

"James?" Jenna asked, "Can I ask why you have suddenly started calling Naomi 'Snowy'?"

I looked at her puzzled; I was convinced that Emily would have told Jenna about my little nickname when she'd learnt it from Chunks.

"It's her nickname Mrs F, so JJ told me."

"Yes I know that James," Jenna said confirming my suspicions, "I was wondering why you'd decided to start calling her it now?"

"Well she found out _my_ nickname," he said, blustering a little and making the hairs stand up on the back of my neck.

"I know that too James," she said with a raised eyebrow, "now are you going to answer my question?"

"Well…" he said shyly, not looking at either of us, "I thought it seemed like the right thing to do you know? Team spirit and all that…"

Cook tailed off, seemingly a little embarrassed at his words. I got it though; I understood exactly why he would want to do it. It made sense to my brain that he'd want to surround the team, and me, with things that were familiar; immerse us in what we knew best, the unspoken closeness of the unit.

"Ah," Jenna said staring at us both, "I see, well dear if it that's what it's for I'm all for it. As long as you're not teasing poor Naomi here, if I find out that's your motivation James Cook there will be trouble."

"No Ma'am," Cook replied apologetically, not spotting the sly wink that Jenna had given me. I fought to stop my lips from twitching in amusement, watching Cook shuffle uncomfortably under her glare until finally she let out a snigger, her poker face cracking.

"Oh I see," Cook said reaching for his coffee and waving the cup at us accusingly, "so it's not ok to tease blondie here, but it is ok to pick on me."

"Feeling victimised Panda?" I asked as Andy and Simon laughed at his affronted face.

"Fucking right," he replied finally laughing along with the joke; "every day of my life."

o+o+o

"So this weapon, Captain, is slightly different to the INSAS rifle you're used to using; that's loosely based on the AK-47 and is just as rugged, but has the 5.56mm round like the M4. The '417 here is just as rugged, if not more so and uses the larger 7.62mm round just like the AK. She is a designated marksman rifle rather than an assault weapon, and with three barrel lengths it'll do just about every role you could ask of it."

The morning of the second day saw me totally channelling Emily Fitch as we continued in our cover role as weapons specialists. The Captain wasn't looking that impressed as I explained the in's and out's of the different toys Jenna had asked me to demonstrate. I wasn't that surprised by his attitude, and I didn't really care, but I did want to look convincing for obvious reasons.

"Look at it this way Captain," I said as I handed him the weapon, picking up another from the table in front of me. "This isn't a question of keeping things national, and it's not a question of us trying to sell these rifles to the entire Indian Army, hell you probably couldn't afford them even if you wanted them. These are specialist articles that you might want to allow specialist units to use, if you know what I mean. This weapon is guaranteed not to jam, not to fail and is designed to hit the target first time, every time, with the stopping power to put your target down without any problems. Why not take it for a test drive? Just give it an honest review that's all I ask."

Ten minutes later I'd made a believer out of him, and more importantly test fired another two of the seven weapons we needed for the mission, three more to go and I'd know we were safe. I'd been impressed with the suppressors that Bonnie has sorted for us as well, they weren't small, but they did make a difference to the sound. Not as much as the movies would have you believe, certainly not the whisper quiet hiss that was barely audibly to the human ear. Still as suppressors went they weren't bad, and the noise was a hell of a lot better with them than without.

The only thing that worried me was the ruggedness of the holographic sights that the weapons were fitted with, and the fact that each person would need to tweak them to zero-in the weapon to their own shooting style. Still, we could set them up tomorrow evening at the safe house before we shipped out, and if they didn't survive the entry there were always the iron sights.

Lunch at the site turned out to be an 'fun' event; I met up with Jenna after locking away the hardware and we were driven across the training area to a set of tents where some of the serious bigwigs were waiting, all braid and medals or expensive looking suits. To my relief I saw the rest of the team sat at a table in the corner and after a brief set of introductions and some slimy looks, I made my excuses and joined them.

"Not sitting with the higher-up then Sarge?" Simon asked as I dropped my tray full of food on the table and sat down.

"Not really my kind of people Si," I replied as I tucked in; this morning's antics making me hungrier than ever. "I'm just a simple soldier, I don't really dig sitting with the Officer types you know?"

"You'll offend him Sarge," Andy said with a smile. "Simon was about to get made up when he blew his knee out."

"Made up?" I asked, my fork pausing halfway to my mouth. "You were an officer?"

"Nearly," Simon said with a shrug, "never quite made it though, like Skids says, I injured my knee training and had to quit."

"Skids?" I said looking at Andy quizzically.

"Don't ask," he said smiling and shaking his head. "Simon and I served together for a while in the Blues, that's how I got the gig at Larkhall."

"I thought it was just that brother-in-law of yours that you got a job Si," I said shaking my head and going back to eating.

"What can I say," he replied with a shrug, "I like to look after my mates."

"Good," I said with my mouth full of food, "I'm glad to hear it."

"Cook seems happy enough over there," Andy said nodding across at him sat at a table laughing and joking with Jenna and the officers club they were sat with."

"He'd fit in anywhere," I replied nodding thoughtfully. "Guess that's why he's so good at what he does. Is everything ready for tonight?"

The guys didn't even blink at the change in subject, assuring me that everything was in order. The plan was a simple one, after the trials ended for the day they were staying behind to transfer our equipment into what we had began to call the 'Trojan Horses', crates of innocuous looking goods with concealed bottoms where the weaponry and other kit would be placed. The evening would be spent filing off serial numbers and other identifying marks on all of our equipment before packing them away. Jenna had told us that cost was no object; I really hoped that she meant it.

"When are you two shipping out then?" I asked finally, assured that everything we'd planned was in hand.

"I think we're going to head off some time before midnight," Simon said, looking to his mate for a nod of agreement, "I think we'll be all sorted by then."

"Great, make sure you're discrete though yes? We don't know who we can trust here."

"Would you like to teach us to suck eggs as well Snowy?" Andy said with a broad smile.

"I only teach that to rookies Skids," I replied smiling back.

"Well we ain't no rookies Snowy," Simon said, raising his glass to us both. "We've both seen our fair share of trouble, so there's no worries there."

I felt good as I chinked my glass to theirs, and it wasn't just the fact that everything was going to plan. Cook had been right to use my nickname around me, and no doubt the guys had done it deliberately as well after this morning's conversation. I felt a real sense of pride that these guys would put themselves in danger for me and my girl; that they'd risk their lives without a second thought. We were now more than colleagues; we were a team, a unit, we were brothers in arms.

'_This might just work'_ I thought to myself as I took a sip of my water, _'this might just fucking work.'_

o+o+o

The afternoon went well, as far as Fitch Industries was concerned anyway. Despite India's desire to use home grown weaponry and ammunition there's always a market for speciality items and the kit we'd been demonstrating was, after all, some of the best on the market.

I hadn't seen much of Jenna and Cook though, the pair of them off kissing ass and making deals. I had been surprised to hear from Cook that he'd given up on the shooting for the day and was now concentrating on business, but not as surprised as I was to hear that he'd managed to make a couple of contacts that he was hoping to turn into paying work.

"Man I need a beer," he said as he stretched out in the back of the truck that was taking us back to our hotel, "that was a tough, tough day."

"Don't know why," I teased, stretching out myself, dropping my boots on the wooden frame opposite. "After all, it's not as if you did any real work this afternoon unlike the rest of us."

"Hey, I'm a businessman blondie," Cook replied with a laugh, "drinking wine and schmoozing _is_ real work for me."

"He does it so well too," Jenna added, shifting uncomfortably on the hard wooden bench. "James can brown-nose with the best of them."

Jenna was beginning to worry me; all day she'd been like her normal self, all smiles and laughter. But ever since we'd got into the truck she'd been withdrawn and quiet; about as far from the woman I knew as she could me.

"I've seen him work a few times now Jenna," I said nodding, hoping to lift her mood; "and you are so right, he really is an arse-licker."

"I am still sitting here you know," Cook said sounding affronted, "I think you should buy me a beer or two to ease the burn ladies. Especially as I've been mixing business with something slightly more important this afternoon."

"Something more important?" Jenna asked shuffling closer to me where she could hear him over the noise of the engine.

"Yeah," Cook replied sitting forward to get closer to the two of us; "the good news is I got a call from Mel earlier. The rest of the team have arrived on site and getting communications set up as we speak, they're just waiting for Andy and Si to arrive with the weapons and they'll get everything ready for us for when we arrive."

"And the bad news?" Jenna interrupted anxiously.

"The bad news is that according to Mel's contact the good old 'powers that be' are reaffirming their, 'we don't deal with terrorists' line; in public at least."

"That's not good is it James?" she said shaking her head and sighing deeply.

"Well it really depends on what's going on behind the scenes," he replied, as reassuringly as he could. "Chris said that he thinks there's still a lot of negotiations going on right now; he just doesn't think that a release of prisoners is going to happen."

"They must have known that was unrealistic though boss," I said optimistically, hoping to keep Jenna's deflated spirits afloat. "There was no way in hell they'd have got _three_ Governments to release all their prisoners."

"That's what I'm being told Naomi," Jenna interrupted. "The rumours I heard from the Consulate staff is that they assume the terrorists will negotiate down; I have to say they don't sound very convincing though."

"That's my hope too ma'am," Cook replied reaching forward to pat Jenna on the shoulder, "I still think they were just setting out their negotiating position with those stupid demands; let's hope something good comes of it."

I wasn't too sure about that, not any more. Before that video arrived, with the body to support it, I might have thought that; now I was convinced that these fuckers were serious about killing Emily, and they didn't really care if they got their money and prisoners or not. These guys wanted the publicity and the glory, and either way they couldn't lose.

"I got some good news before as well," Jenna said suddenly, "I got a message from Katie; you can stop worrying about this 'exfil' of yours. We have someone that's willing to make an unauthorised flight into Pakistan with no questions asked."

"How did she manage that," I asked breathing a sigh of relief at that revelation.

"Let's just say we have friends in high places Naomi dear," she said with a wry smile that didn't reach past her lips; "and those high places don't seem too bothered about borders if you know what I mean. I think asking _too_ many questions is unwise, but suffice to say there is a small helicopter ready for your call."

"How soon can it be ready?" Cook asked, suddenly all business, "and how can we get in touch with it to get Emily out?"

"How many people can it carry?" I asked at almost the same time causing Jenna to shake her head at us both.

"Oh you two," she said, her voice sounding tired as she reached out and ruffled our heads. "I don't have those answers for you right now; I thought it best that we all talk to Katie when we get some privacy at the hotel. After all you _do_ keep telling me that walls have ears."

"Absolutely right Mrs F," Cook said sitting back and putting his hands behind his head; "and thank you; that really is excellent news."

"No need for you to thank me James," Jenna said shaking her head sadly. "No need at all."

o+o+o

The evening went by in a blur of planning, Cook and I sat in my room going over every aspect of the mission in intricate detail; maps and hastily drawn sketches all over the floor of the room. The only thing that interrupted us was Jenna appearing and demanding that we "come and eat something before you collapse" at about half eight; her voice was sounding strained, and her attempts at mothering us were obviously a way of making her feel better. I could see a hint of red around her eyes as we sat eating, a ring of red that she'd clearly tried to hide.

The strain was starting to get to Jenna Fitch and I wondered what it was that was on her mind at the moment; and what it was she wasn't telling us.

The dining room was practically empty by the time our food arrived, and we ate in relative silence until the last of the guests got up and left.

"Do you think anyone suspects what we have planned?" Cook asked quietly, taking a bite out of a flatbread he'd just dragged through his sauce.

"I'm not sure James," Jenna replied, "I don't know if you have seen this, but I've noticed someone hanging around who doesn't seem to be part of the official observer team."

"Tall guy? Wearing a dark suit and glasses?" I asked suddenly interested, getting a nod from Jenna. "Yeah I spotted him too; he's been hanging around since New Delhi."

"Is he a problem?" Cook asked, I shrugged and shook my head. "I think he's just keeping an eye on us boss, probably checking out our cover; don't forget no-one believe that we were really coming here to work. We've done nothing suspicious so far, and there's a legitimate reason for the boys to stay back at the site before leaving. As far as anyone knows they're driving the specialist equipment back to the airport."

"We still need to be careful though," he said stroking his chin thoughtfully. "You and I have to be able to slip away without arousing anyone's suspicions and we're going to have to do it early enough that we can get to the safe house, how far is it again?"

"The maps say it's about a six hour drive from here boss, but we still need to arrange transportation though."

"We've got a jeep hired already kid," Cook said with a nod. "Chris has it all arranged. All we have to do is pick it up and then we can head off; we just need to decide when."

"So you're both still adamant about doing this mission," Jenna said, interrupting our planning. "You aren't prepared to wait until it's a bit closer to the deadline, see if the negotiations go anywhere?"

"I'm not willing to risk it Jenna," I said shaking my head. "Not after what they did last time; besides, we don't have to go if the negotiations work. There's more than twenty four hours left before we have to go live."

"Are you sure you won't change your mind and let me come with you?" she asked, pushing away her plate.

"No," Cook replied flatly, "I'm sorry Mrs F, but I really don't think that's a good idea. I think it would be safer for you if you stayed this side of the border."

I nodded at that, but had an idea that would hopefully make her happy, or at least happier that she seemed.

"Jenna, don't you think it would be better if you waited wherever the helicopter will be landing? That way you'll be there for Emily when she arrives."

"If she arrives," Jenna replied, a lonely tear escaping from her eye as her shield slipped once more.

"We've been here before Jenna," I said reaching out to grasp her hands tightly. "It's not if, it's _when_. She's coming home one way or another, hopefully by diplomacy, but if not then I'm going in; alone if necessary. There is no fucking way I'm going to let those barbarians put her on tape again; for any reason."

I got an answering squeeze as a response, but no words from the dark haired woman who was quite obviously trying to compose herself again. There was a moment of silence before Cook's stupid ringtone went off and he excused himself and went outside to answer it.

"I think I'll be heading to bed dear," Jenna said with a sniff and a fake smile. "I promised I'd call Katie and James before I turned in and right now I think sleep is what I need. Are you going to turn in soon?"

"I need to stay awake a bit longer," I replied shaking my head. "I need to get my system switched over so I can sleep tomorrow evening while Cook and I are driving to the safe house; that way I'll be awake and ready for the mission."

"You still need to sleep Naomi dear," she replied, leaning down to give me a hug; that mothering instinct showing up again, betraying her nerves.

"Go to bed Jenna," I told her, patting her on the arm gently. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Ok," she agreed finally, "goodnight Naomi."

"Goodnight Jenna," I said; surprised as she bent down to kiss my forehead, "sleep well."

o+o+o

"Jenna gone to bed already?" Cook said when finally he appeared, the slight smell of cigar smoke lingering on his clothes.

"Yeah," I replied, nodding as I sipped at my drink. "She said she wanted to talk to her family before she slept."

"She doesn't seem to be holding up very well right now, you think she'll be ok?"

"I've no idea boss," I replied seriously. "If I'm honest I'm a bit concerned about her being here on her own when we go."

"It's not like one of us can stay with her kid, you're going to have to have a word with her?"

"Why me Cook?" I protested loudly, "you know I'm not good with emotionally distraught women, I never have been."

"Because like I've told you before Naomi, you're the closest thing to family she has out here," he said softly. "She treats you like a daughter or a daughter in law anyway."

"Funny," I replied sarcastically, tossing down the last of my drink and getting to my feet.

"Not tryin' to be my friend," he said smoothly. "Look at the way she talks to you, the way she trusts what you say; that looks like a damned close relationship to me Naomikins, more than a employer and employee."

It annoyed me a little to have it pointed out so bluntly, but I had to agree that he was absolutely right. Jenna was more than an employer to me, and I wasn't sure if that was just due to Emily. She had been nothing but lovely to me from the first moment I'd met her, well apart from the whole loaded shotgun being pointed at me that was. Despite all my misgivings about her at the start she'd never lost faith in me; and she'd never lost faith in me and Emily either.

The best thing I could do for her was to bring her daughter home, and that's where my focus needed to be.

"So what's our cover for tomorrow boss?" I asked as we walked into my room to finalise our plans, hoping as well to change the subject away from Jenna. "Have you thought of something that will work?"

"Surely have blondie," he replied with a wink, "tomorrow we're going to the lake for a bit of R&R and some swimming, and tomorrow afternoon you and I are taking in the 'garden of bliss' because, as I explained to the manager here extremely carefully earlier, we need some serious relaxation."

You've thought of everything haven't you boss?" I joked, glad that he'd thought about the extra details, the things that make the difference between success and failure.

"Only way to work Snowy," he said pulling the papers we'd hidden under my mattress; "speaking of which, shall we?"

o+o+o

It was raining outside when finally I turned in, my watch telling me from the side table that it was just after three in the morning. Cook and I had finally completed our briefing at about one, but after that I had a shower to try and wind down before climbing under the sheets and trying to sleep.

I was exhausted, both mentally and physically and yet my brain couldn't stop spinning. Twenty four short hours from now it would all be over, but for now all I could do was wait, stuck in that awful nervous time before a mission where you could do nothing _but_ wait.

I wondered for a brief second if Cook and Jenna were doing the same thing as me, lying in bed and thinking; but then my mind returned to more pressing matters. Six hours drive from where I lay there was a terrified girl; battered, bruised and bound. I wondered if she was awake or asleep, if she was in pain or not; even if she was still alive. I was torturing myself with the thought of her situation and it was what was making my mind spin, and what was stopping me from wanting to sleep; knowing that as soon as I drifted off my dreams would be filled with familiar faces again.

As the numbers on my watch ticked their way towards four I knew I was going to have to make an effort and grab some shut-eye, even if it was only for a couple of hours. Cook and I had already agreed that we'd switch driving on the way to the safe house, each giving the other a chance to nap. But the secret of success in combat was sleeping wherever you could and, despite all my reservations, now was that time.

With a sigh I pulled a pillow over my head to drown out the sound of the storm, closed my eyes and allowed the nightmares to engulf me once again.


	78. In The End Everyone Dies

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a small amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness and a really, really bad temper.

.

**Chapter 78 – In The End Everyone Dies**

_Z-Hour – 1 Day_

The next day dawned with a watery sun, lost in a cloudy haze that obscured the view despite the evening's rain shower having ended sometime after I dozed off. It wasn't the kind of weather you'd want for a holiday, but I really didn't care; I was actually hoping that the weather would be shitty for the next couple of days. Shitty weather is great cover for the combat soldier, and cover is exactly what we were going to need if we were going to pull this off without any hitches.

I lay on the thin cotton sheets, staring up at the electric fan that was fixed to the ceiling; trying to enjoy the cooling breeze that was passing over my sweating body. This was it, the planning was over, and there was nothing to do now but head off to the border and hope that the bribes that Jenna and Katie had made to Emily's contacts in the Government had got the boys, and our equipment, there unmolested.

For me this was the critical part of the mission, without the equipment this mission was a non-starter; I would fight my way into the compound with nothing but my teeth if I needed to, but I also knew that we needed more than that to get Emily out alive without casualties of our own.

This was the part that I could do absolutely nothing about and I fucking hated it. I had absolutely no control over what might have happened in the last few hours and that didn't sit easily, or help me sleep. One snotty official, one overzealous soldier, and we were scuppered; if the equipment the guys were carrying was discovered it was all over, and Emily was as good as dead…

…and that wasn't something I was prepared to accept.

_Wop, wop, wop, wop, wop._

I lay staring at the fan, listening to the rhythmic beat and thinking my way through the mission one more time; it was complex for sure, but I had a good team with me and I knew it would succeed. All we had to do was get there.

Realising that my mind was just running around in circles I dragged my protesting body from the bed and into the bathroom, heading straight for the shower. A twist of the faucet and the steam started to build as I allowed the water to flow over my body; soaking away the sweat and the tension and everything that was in my head, pouring it down the drain like the waste it was. With a twist of a handle I turned the water to as hot as I could stand it and scrubbed away; cleansing myself as best I could from the dirty feeling of last nights nightmare before twisting the handle the opposite way, and standing under the freezing cold water until my lips were blue.

I emerged from my shower rejuvenated and feeling ready to face the day, it was a good feeling, one that I had experienced many times before; that mixture of nerves and adrenaline that told me I was ready, my head was now clear…game on.

There was a knock at the door as I dressed and I pulled my t-shirt over my head quickly and peered through the security lens before opening the door wide.

"Morning Naomi dear…"

Jenna stepped into my room, her face sombre; the joy I'd seen in it when we first met destroyed by the events of the last few days. I could see it clearly now, how every message that arrived, every barrier that appeared to confound us had taken away another piece of her, added another line to her face. Even now with the end in sight she looked jaded, exhausted, damn near broken.

"Have you slept at all Jenna?" I asked as I closed the door behind her, looking at the dark circles that had appeared under her baggy, tired looking eyes.

"Not really," she admitted, "too many things to worry about Naomi dear, far too many things. I don't think I've had much more than three or four hours sleep last night, the worry of it all is getting to me I'm afraid. Katie and James were terrified last night and it was really had to stay strong for them. "

"Not for much longer," I replied, wishing that I'd managed to get even three hours sleep. "This time tomorrow and it'll all be over and we'll be heading home. In fact, when it's all over, you might want to call Katie and get her to organise a welcome home party for Emily; I think she'd appreciate that."

"You really mean that don't you Naomi? There isn't a doubt in your mind that you'll bring Emily home is there?"

"Not a single one," I told her, as convincingly as I could. There were a few doubts, of course there were, but I wasn't going to let her know that; and I trusted in my abilities to overcome anything that got in our way.

She stared at me as I quickly got dressed and then started to throw my black fatigues into my stuff sack, making sure that the rest of my personal kit that I would need was in there. Cook and I had agreed that wearing our civvies until we got to the safe house was the sensible option; there was no sense in alerting anyone that might still be watching by leaving our hotels looking like we were preparing for war, and the disguise of us being a couple of lost tourists might be a useful one.

"Are you still sure about this Naomi?" Jenna asked, sitting on the bed as I packed; a tear present in her eye.

"Never been surer!" I said with a broad smile; trying and failing to make her feel better.

"This is a massive risk Naomi," she said tears falling openly now, "not just for Emily; this is a massive risk for all of you, I've been worrying about that as well; you're all risking so much for Emily."

"It's a risk I'm prepared to take, that we're _all_ prepared to take," I told her, pulling a tissue from the box by the bed and handing it to her with a confident smile.

"But you know you could die attempting this? You all could; I'm not sure I want that on my conscience." Jenna said sniffling and dabbing at her eyes with the tissue.

"In the end everyone dies Mrs F," I said, dropping my bag by the door and sitting down next to her. "That's one of life's great certainties. I can't speak for the others, but I think if it came down to that then I'd rather die doing something worthwhile, like rescuing the woman I love, than living until I'm old. all alone and dying full of regrets. I think I want my life to have meaning again, like it used to you know?"

"You sound like you've thought about this a lot," she said shaking her head at me. "I'm not sure I like the idea of that, I don't want anything to happen to you Naomi, you've become like a member of my family, you do know that don't you?"

"Nothing's going to happen to me Mrs F,"I said remembering my best mate's favourite phrase. "I'm indestructible, and besides this'll be the third time I've had to save Emily, and they do say that the third time's a charm."

"I still don't like the idea of all this Naomi dear," she said placing her hand on my leg, and ignoring my attempts at humour, "you'll all be in terrible danger."

"What would you prefer Jenna, we try and succeed, or we do nothing and sit here and wait until the bastards give up and kill Emily anyway?"

"I'd prefer it if neither of those were options," she replied crying again. I slipped an arm around her shoulder and hugged her tightly; astounded at how natural this simple motion felt, like it had once, or perhaps twice before.

"So would I," I said as I handed her another tissue from the box, "but you have to understand Jenna, these bastards have had no intention of real negotiation from the start, I'm positive of that. Look, it's time to be straight with each other; I'm convinced that what we told you was wrong. We've never really thought that this was a simple hostage deal; and I'm sure you thought the same. In fact I'm positive that these fuckers are the real deal, or at least they'd like to think they are. They now want something that you and Fitch Industries simply can't give them.

Emily's just a pawn in all of this, an easy target that they're using for extra publicity. You can give them the money but you can't give them the prisoners they want, and the authorities have already said they don't negotiate with terrorists. The killed Brian before the deadline because they wanted to, because they wanted to send out a message; if we don't try to get Emily out soon she's a dead woman."

"You know our Consulate is still negotiating behind the scenes though Naomi," Jenna insisted earnestly, her eyes begging me not to go through with my plan; "something may still come from that."

"I know they are," I told her, "and yes it might, but the deadline is pretty much on us already Jenna, and we need to act soon or we might lose her. You know I'm right; if the negotiations work and they release her then great, but if not we've got to be in position and ready to go in."

More tears fell from Jenna's eyes as she nodded sadly, knowing at some level that I was right. Trying to be comforting I squeezed her shoulders one last time.

We sat together in silence for a while; until my room's phone rang, startling the two of us I grabbed the handset from the receiver, stretching the old fashioned curly cable as far as I could to lift it to my ear.

"Naomikins," he said loudly down the phone. "Tell me you're ready kid, because we need to get moving if we're going to do everything we wanted to do today."

"Jesus Cook," I answered, following his lead and keeping up our cover in case anyone was listening in to the line, taking no chances at all. "It's not even eight o'clock yet and I haven't had breakfast."

"Breakfast is for wimps' kiddo, but we'll grab something while we're out if it means that much to you," he said nonchalantly. "The car's here and I'm in reception waiting on you; get a move on blondie, the sooner you're down the sooner you can indulge that swimming fetish of yours in the lake."

"I thought today was about rest and relaxation Cook," I said getting a raised eyebrow from Jenna. I mouthed the word 'cover' at her as he blathered away, getting a nod in reply. "Not about getting me up stupidly early and making me race around like an idiot; because I can tell you that's not very fucking relaxing."

"Yeah well, you're awake now aren't you kid, now haul ass, I'll give you five minutes or I'm going without you. I ain't had a day off for weeks and I need me some relaxation and some culture."

"Ok, ok Cook I give in," I said sighing dramatically. "Let me grab some things to take with me and I'll be right down."

I hung up and sat back, closing my eyes for a second to compose myself before I spoke again.

"Jenna, I need to ask you something very difficult now, I need you to do two things for me, and for the mission."

"What's that," she replied sniffing and sitting up straight.

"Firstly I need you to keep yourself safe, don't leave the hotel if you can help it and ideally don't leave your room. If you can get some of your contacts from the Army to shepherd you around; just to take that worry off my mind ok?"

"I can do that," she said nodding, and the other thing?"

You need to stay strong, be brave, and not give anything away. Cook and I need you to act as if everything is normal, and act like you're the one that's told us to take a day off before we collapse ok? It's important we keep that cover for as long as we can, the longer people think that everything is normal, the better chance we have of getting away before anyone's suspicions are raised."

"You think that person we saw is spying on you?"

"I don't know Jenna," I replied shrugging, "but I was taught never to take any chances; so can you do that for me too?"

"I can do that for you too," she said reaching out and taking my hand. "I do have one question though dear, how will I know what's going on? No-one's told me how that will happen yet? How do I stay in touch and be ready?"

"Take my phone," I said reaching into a pocket and handing it to her. "I'll get Mel to call you on it and keep you updated whenever she can; but you have to promise not to call her and not to mention anything that's going on at all, we need to maintain security until we're _all_ safely home and ideally I mean home in Blighty."

"I will," she promised, "as long as I know what's…"

Her voice tailed off as I decided to end the conversation, before it upset me any further, by standing up, resting my hand on her shoulder as I did so.

"I need to go Jenna," I said squeezing her shoulder reassuringly. "As Cookie would say, 'daylights a wasting'."

I picked up my bag from the floor and zipped it closed, the sound drawing a line under the conversation. "Next time you see me you'll have Emily with you, and then we'll take her home safe and sound."

"I hope so Naomi, I hope you all come back safely; please be careful won't you."

"That's what you pay me for," I said with a wink, slinging the sack over my shoulder and opening the door. "I'll see you soon Jenna."

"Good lu…"

"Don't say it," I interrupted quickly, holding up a hand to stop her before she could jinx the mission totally. "Just say goodbye Jenna, say nothing more than goodbye."

"Goodbye Naomi," she said as I closed the door behind me, "goodbye."

o+o+o

I met Cook in the hotel lobby, throwing my bag next to the garish sports holdall he was standing next to. "Everything sorted Cookie?" I asked as he winked a greeting at me.

"Everything's sorted blondie, we have transport, time, and strict orders from the boss to do nothing but relax for the rest of the day. The lake is calling my friend, and you know that a good workout in the water will take your mind off things."

"Well let's go hit the water then Cookie" I said clapping him on the shoulder, "if it'll stop you nagging me that is."

With that awkward feeling of overly forced casualness we walked out of the hotel towards a dark blue Jeep. As Cook began throwing our bags into the back of it we talked about the places we were planning to go, maintaining our cover to the end. As I climbed into the passenger seat I saw a guy standing in a doorway opposite, cigarette hanging out of his mouth; I didn't know if it was the guy that Jenna had noticed at the trials, but he did look familiar to me, I'd certainly seen him before anyway.

I didn't know who he was working for, our side, theirs or somewhere in between; but it didn't really matter at all. Our cover was sound, Cookie was with me, and we were on our way, one short drive around town to throw off any suspicions, or tails, and then turn towards the rising sun and the border; next stop Pakistan.

o+o+o

Noon came and went as Cook and I drove towards the safe house, the roads we were using varying between excellent and downright awful. Right now the trip was as dull as it could possibly be; Cook fast asleep in the passenger seat, taking advantage of a stretch of decent road to nap. I didn't mind doing the bulk of the driving, the plan required Cook having to hit the road not long after we arrived so he could be in position well before we attacked the compound. His outward journey was probably going to be a nervous and uncomfortable one, and he needed all the rest he could get.

To pass the time I was chewing down on a snack bar we'd bought when we'd filled up the massive fuel tank and the jerry cans we were carrying; not wanting to have to stop once we got into Pakistan itself just in case. Personally I wished that we were doing this journey at night like the rest of the team had done, but our concern was arousing too much suspicion by having the team vanish all at once; and suspicions like that might find their way to the wrong people, and we might find our assault compromised from the outset. Besides Mel assured me that the route she'd selected was barely patrolled and we'd be able to make it across the border without any unwanted attentions.

I fucking hoped that was going to be the case anyway.

About half an hour later I was sipping at some water when I saw Cook stretch and yawn from the corner of my eye.

"Fucks sake Snowy," he said glancing at his watch, "why didn't you wake me an hour ago? It's my turn to take over."

"Wasn't tired," I replied simply, shaking my head as he offered me another of the disgusting local snack bars. "Besides, you need the sleep more than I do, I can probably grab a nap when we get there."

"Nervous?" he asked, stretching out and sticking his bare feet on to the dashboard.

"Little bit boss," I acknowledged, "be better when we get there and I know everything's sorted, be even better when it's all over."

"Know what you mean mate," he replied, yawning again. "So, what's your plan for when we get back?"

"I think firstly call Mel and make sure that helicopter Katie arranged has got Emily back ok, and then drive like hell for the border and safety."

"I know that you twat," he said laughing. "I meant when we get back as in back to the UK."

"Buy everyone a good meal and a load of beer I think boss, at the very least."

"I meant with Emily mate," he said shoving me playfully causing us to veer slightly across the road. "As I think you know. You must have plans, that's how your mind works isn't it?

"Apologise profusely for being a complete dickhead for starters I guess," I said shrugging. "After that I don't have any real plans. I think Emily's going to need quite a bit of time getting herself right in the head after this; if she wants me there, then I guess I'll be there to help her through it all."

"You ok with that?" he asked, making me frown. "You've never seemed comfortable with the whole therapy deal that's all, and you keep telling me how badly you handle emotional women."

"I'll just have to manage," I said smiling wryly, "she's worth it."

"What about after that kid? You and Emily going to take a long holiday? A nice cruise around the world perhaps, where you can finally switch off?"

"Well apparently there's this bloody wedding I have to go to," I said laughing at his persistence. "I don't know about taking a holiday, but there is this nice, secluded, luxury cabin in Scotland I know that might be nice to go back to."

"Tell me more," he said twisting in his seat. "I have a honeymoon to plan and secluded sounds pretty good to me."

I couldn't help but laugh at his face as I told him exactly _how_ secluded the cabin was, teasing him a little at the thought of midnight swims and evenings spent naked in a spa. I didn't know if the cabin would be the kind of place that was right up James Cook's street, but I had a suspicion that Effy would like it; and as far as I was concerned that was all that mattered, though I think it was the same for both of us.

"So no plans other than my wedding," Cook said as I finally agreed to swap seats and let him drive for a bit.

"Not really boss, I don't like thinking too much about the future you know? I never have; focus on the present and all that carpe diem stuff. My mum used to tell me that losing sight of the present stopped you from enjoying it."

"Must be something Naomi, something that you've been looking forward to."

"Christmas," I blurted out without thinking, jumping slightly as the Jeep swerved across the rough track we were on. "What?"

"Christmas?" he replied with a laugh, "never pictured you as a big 'tree and fairy lights' kind of girl that's all."

"I'm not," I said sliding my seat as far back as I could and stretching out. "I used to be though, sort of. Every Christmas my mum and I used to have a big traditional meal and swap presents, if we could afford them that is. Some of my best memories were of Christmas; but after she died I never celebrated it again."

"So what's changed now," he asked seriously, no hint of the teasing tone he'd used earlier. "Emily?"

"In part," I replied explaining about how we'd found the tapes my mum had made for me, and how Emily had them converted onto the computer for me to finally watch; telling him about my mum's wishes for the Christmases after her death.

"We used to talk about Christmas," I said finally, "Emily and I that is, I think she wanted me to find the magic again, said she was determined to get me enjoying a family Christmas again anyway."

"At the manor?"

"I don't know mate," I said shrugging, "Ems never said where; she just said that she wanted to make it special for us. I was kind of looking forward to it actually."

"Well hold onto that thought kid; one thing I learned in Iraq is that having something to look forward to keeps you motivated when you're in the thick of things."

"I have motivation enough Cook," I replied yawning loudly and closing my eyes, "more than enough in fact."

"Well keep that in mind as well then," he said as I shuffled myself down into the warm seat, trying to find a comfortable spot. I didn't bother to reply, I was already well on my way to a restless sleep.

o+o+o

I was still asleep when we snuck across the invisible line that took us from 'friendly' to 'hostile' land. When I woke up I could feel the change in Cook's driving as we took the long route around to avoid civilisation. We were driving much slower that we had on the paved roads and, as I pulled myself upright, I asked him why.

"Dust," he said simply, not taking his eyes from the road.

"Ah," I replied. It might not have seemed like a sensible response to the casual listener, but I _wasn't_ a casual listener. Dust was a terrible giveaway to the mobile soldier, and it has been ever since the days when we fought on horseback. It was a fine balance between driving at pace and not kicking up a dust cloud that could be seen for miles around and risking attracting unwanted attention.

For the second time that day I was wishing that we were doing this at night.

"Is it my turn to drive boss?" I asked as I stretched out the kinks that my nap had caused.

"Hardly worth it kid," he said nodding at the GPS system we'd stuck to the dashboard. "We're pretty much there; sit back and relax my dear, Cookie will get us there safe and sound."

He was true to his word as well, and we pulled up to the small building on the edge of the lake about six and a half hours after we left Srinagar. It was a huge relief to get here safely and as we parked the Jeep in a large barn next to the small truck that Andy and Simon had arrived in, and another four by four that I assumed belonged to the rest of Cook's team, I allowed myself a brief moment of relaxation.

The first part of the mission was complete, that was one thing off the list.

The safe house we were using was a large run down farmhouse, right on the lakeside and about three miles as the crow flies from the secluded location where Emily was being held. It was a great location for us to use as a springboard for the attack; and, as we entered the building, it looked like I was back in Afghanistan, weaponry and equipment scattered in neat piles all around the room.

"Snowy, Panda," Andy said with a nod as I stepped through the doorway. "Welcome to Pakistan."

"Nice to be here Skids," I said with a smile, "sitrep?"

"Si and the guys are outside getting set up. All the gear is here and we've tested it to make sure it's all working. I think we're pretty much ready to go."

"What about our contact?" James asked as he dumped his kitbag on the floor and shook Andy's hand.

"They're arriving in a couple of hours to take you and Tom away boss," he replied shrugging. "Will you be ready for that?"

"Not a problem," Cook replied as I was about to voice my concerns. "Just let me get kitted up and I'll be ready to go."

"Ok then, your gear is over here boss," Andy said gesturing into the corner. "Yours is over there Snowy, everything you wanted is there."

I threw my kitbag down next to the pile of equipment and started thumbing through it. I made a mental note to send Katie and Bonnie an invite to the meal and beer party, they'd come through for us in a big way. Everything you could possibly want as an assault team was in front of me, 'Dragon Skin' body armour, helmets, and more ammunition and magazines than I could ever use; and best of all, sat on top of everything, the night vision and communications gear that I'd wanted.

The NV goggles were going to be a key part to our mission; not only were they going to be essential for the main assault, giving us the advantage of sight in and around the dark buildings, but they were also going to be used for the mad dash back to the border once we were back here. The plan being that, wherever possible, we wouldn't use the vehicle's lights until we were safely back across the border and on Indian soil.

"It's all looking good kid," Cook said as he stripped to his shorts and pulled on his black fatigues. "Time we got busy."

"Yeah," I replied, digging through my bag for my gear, "let's do this."

The next hour was spent gearing up and being introduced to the rest of the team. Simon had set up an improvised weapons range out back, and it didn't take long for Cook and I to get squared away; assault rifles tuned and set up just the way we liked.

Weaponry sorted we waited for the sun to go down, going over the plan with the new guys, making sure that everyone knew exactly what they needed to do.

The plan was for us to hit the target during the early hours of the morning; it was always the best time for this kind of mission, people were either asleep or at least at the lowest part of their attention cycles. It was a natural thing, and if there really were only fifteen or so hostiles at the property then the numbers we would be facing, at least at first, would be minimal.

That was the hope anyway, or rather that was the plan.

The compound where Emily was being held was at the end of a narrow inlet off the main lake, not far from a road that led up to the more populated North end of the lake. Cook and his spotter Tom were going in first, being driven along that road in a regular transport vehicle being operated by our contact. Cook's plan was that they'd get as close as possible before decamping and heading to their position on foot to be ready for when we started the assault. We'd all meet up for the final assault, but the first thing we needed was intelligence, and cover, from the high ground; and that's what Cook was going to provide via a nifty little satellite transceiver that connected us to him, and to Mel and Chris back in New Delhi as well. As an assault team we were going to get a near perfect feed of up-to-date information from the three of them and with any luck it was going to give us yet one more advantage, and one that I knew would make all the difference.

Not for the first time was I grateful for the backing of Fitch Industries, the communications equipment that Katie and Jenna had provided far surpassing anything that I'd asked for. I had no idea how many favours they'd had to call in, or promise, to get everything here; but somehow they'd managed to get everything we'd needed and then some.

"So, are you all ok with the plan guys?" I said to the team when Cook finished speaking. "Any questions?"

"It all sounds good Snowy," Andy said as he dropped a Glock pistol into a thigh pouch, slipping spare magazines into it for good measure. "Have to say, it feels good to be in action again."

"Amen to that," Jay replied. He was a tough looking black guy that had flown in from the US with a guy he had introduced as Elliot. They hadn't said much, simply nodding or grunting as Cook and outlined the plan; I'd taken that as a good thing. Grouch had once told me that a soldier that doesn't ask questions is a soldier that's happy with the mission, and I assumed that they were happy with what we had planned.

It was when I was grabbing something to eat when I heard the sound of a vehicle approaching, seconds later I was on my feet with my rifle pulled tightly into my shoulder, safety catch released, heading for the door.

"Stay frosty blondie," Cook whispered from his position on my shoulder, his weapon locked and loaded as well. "This is probably just our contact."

"I'm cool Cookie," I said, peering out from the cracked, dust stained window into the dimming light; "I'm just prepared in case it's not."

"Well I didn't want you going off half cocked my friend," he said as we watched Andy walk around the corner and greet the two guys who had got out of the vehicle, both carrying AK47's, but not in a threatening way.

"Half cocked? According to your fiancée that's your job speedy," I said hiding a smile, clicking the selector lever on my rifle back to 'safe' and relaxing, lowering the HK to my side.

"She said what?" Cook demanded as he did the same. "What the fuck are you on about Snowy?"

"Easy Panda," I said with a smile, "I'm sure it could happen to anyone, well almost anyone anyway. Probably the stress of the job, you should take some R&R after the mission, get your pecker up so to speak."

"Screw you," he said, finally laughing as I winked at him.

"Told you before Cook," I said with a grin forced through my tension, "you're just not my type."

My mood lifted slightly as we laughed and I opened the door to see Andy deep in conversation with the taller of the two men. Cook pointed over at a scruffy looking box van that was covered with adverts, "I'm guessing that's my ride then," he said shaking his head in disgust.

"Looks that way mate," I replied slinging my rifle over my shoulder and walking outside to meet our guests. "Let's go say hello."

o+o+o

It was indeed our contacts from the Kashmiri rebel force that had arrived, both hard faced and serious. Andy introduced them as Mahmood and Rahim and only one of them could speak English; thankfully that was Rahim, the leader of the group and the person assigned to our little group, the person that was going to take us there and back. I was pleased about that because Cook wouldn't need to talk to Mahmood; wouldn't be able to in fact as they hid in the back of the box wagon he was using to haul produce to the town at the head of the lake for the early morning market.

Introductions over, we all headed inside the building to talk. Cook and Tom gearing up while we finalised the plans; pulling traditional local robes over the fatigues and body armour they were wearing in an attempt at disguise, their weaponry hidden inside what looked like a bundle of cloth. Personally I thought it was overkill, I was sure that they wouldn't really need them for the amount of people that might see them, but Cook was adamant that he was taking no chances.

"All it takes is one fucker to see us as we get out and our cover might be blown," he said defending his idea; "and besides, don't you think I look good?"

"Height of fashion boss," I said repeating Jenna's words from the other day, "the absolute height of fashion."

"Time to go Mr Cook," Rahim said, gesturing at the doorway. "I have told Mahmood where he is to drop you off, do not worry he knows the road well."

"You got your GPS boss," I asked as the pair of them double checked their equipment."

"Sure have Snowy," he said nodding. "I do believe we're ready; Tom?"

"Ready Panda, let's roll."

"Right, we'll speak to you guys in a bit then, once we're in position I'd start sending that intel' along."

"Only if it's safe to do so," I said quickly, "don't risk giving away your position."

"Naturally," he replied handing their equipment to Tom in the back of the truck. As Tom stretched out a hand to haul him in Cook paused for a second before turning back to me.

"I hope I've got this right mate; but low and slow Snowy," he said holding out his fist to me.

"Slow and low Panda," I replied, bumping fists and smiling.

Cook winked at me before turning back and grabbing Tom's hand to be hauled into the van. Moments later Mahmood had closed up the tail and driven off, leaving the rest of us behind to watch until the lights faded out of view.

Part two of the mission was under way; Zero-Hour was less than six hours away and it was time to get ready; the whirlwind was coming for _'Khuddam ul-Islam'_, and they would finally reap what they had sown.


	79. Reaping the Whirlwind

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** As usual I own nothing but a small amount of debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness and a really, really bad temper.

.

**Chapter 79 – Reaping the Whirlwind**

_Z-Hour – 2 hours and counting…_

One o'clock in the morning brought me an overcast, moonless night and with that in place all we had to do was put the final stages of the plan into action. The atmosphere inside the safe house was so thick you would have needed a chainsaw to cut through it, and tensions were high.

"Right guys," I said as I slipped on my body armour and shrugged it into position, "twenty minutes till we're due the next contact with Cook. Let's get everything checked, double checked and packed away before he reports in. I want us to be ready to go at short notice just in case"

There was the usual bustle of activity as weapons were checked and locked down, vests and magazine pouches closed and made silent and camouflage paint applied to faces, hands and anywhere else that could catch the light as we made our approach. This wasn't going to be a smash and grab mission, at least not at first and the silencers that were fixed our assault rifles were testament to that.

Despite all the complex preparations the plan was simple enough, though Cook had questioned it originally. We were going to insert onto the target from a small fishing boat that Rahim had organised and was going to pilot for us; working our way along the lakeside as slowly and quietly as we could. From my point of view an attack from the water had the best likelihood of success; believing as I did that they'd be more likely to guard the road side approaches, especially at night.

The first report from Cook and Tom supported my view, three guards being seen patrolling the landward side of the compound, and only two being seen anywhere near the lakeside, and one of them seemed to spend most of his time in the small boathouse that we'd planned to use as our entry point.

There was no way in hell that Rahim could get us right up to the compound though; even the heavily soundproofed engine would be a dead giveaway across the silent waters of the inlet. So to be able to approach without being observed, we were going to be dropped off at the entrance to the inlet and we'd swim our way in; using the small diving tanks that Chris has sourced for us to make the final approach completely underwater.

We needed to get into the boathouse unseen so we could get ready for the main assault; our rifles and comms' gear packed away into waterproof bags to protect the electronics from the prolonged submersion. Still I believed it was a risk worth taking, I'd rather face one maybe two guards, than three or four.

"Yo, anybody there?"

Cook's voice came in over the scrambled comms system, interrupting our cleansing of the site. We were packing everything away ready to be placed into the vehicles for the exfil', time would be of the essence as we ran for the border and we didn't want to leave anything behind that could be used to identify us.

"Receiving over," Simon, our designated radio officer, responded to Cook's more casual contact.

"All quiet here guys," he whispered reassuringly, "these fuckers are so casual it's untrue."

"What's the situation like?" I asked, wishing he'd explain himself without us having to force it out of him.

"We've got five bad guys on guard right now, one at the main entrance, one in the boathouse, one on the roof and two patrolling the grounds. They don't look that serious about it though."

"How so?" I asked started to get frustrated with him.

"The guy on the main entrance are sitting around and smoking, I think the guy on the roof is asleep and the patrols are just wandering around, that's when they don't stop to have a smoke as well."

"Anything else? What about the guy in the boathouse?"

"Haven't seen him since our last report, personally I think he's asleep."

"No movement at all?"

"Not a bit," Tom interrupted, "I've been watching that section just in case. We haven't seen him for about an hour now."

"Good," I replied trying to sound all business and keep the elation from my voice. "What about the package, any signs?"

"None at all," Cook replied, "thermal's showing a couple of hotspots in the main building and one in the outhouse, but I think they're more likely to be bad guys."

Quickly I got him to tell us where they were, every single description adding to our knowledge of the site and what we might have to face.

"So we're still good to go?" I asked finally, double checking my own opinion.

"No question, good to go. I'll report in again in an hour then I'll wait for your call; out."

"You heard the man," I said to the others, "we're good to go. Let's finish off getting this place cleaned up and squared away and then we can hit the water. Rahim can you get the boat ready?"

"Yes," he replied simply, "when you to want to leave?"

"We'll set off at two as planned," I replied glancing at my watch again. "Rahim how long do you think it'll take us to get to the drop off point?"

"Not long, if we go quiet about twenty minutes, half an hour maybe."

"That gives us thirty minutes to swim in," I said nodding thoughtfully, "perfect."

o+o+o

_Z-Hour – 30 minutes and counting…_

At a wave of my hand across my throat the muffled chugging of the fishing boat fell silent as the entrance to the inlet came into sight. I sat on the side of the boat and adjusted my equipment, the waterproof bag strapped to my back next to my tank. Struggling slightly I pulled the fins over the toes of my boots and yanked the straps tight, testing them awkwardly before checking the regulator on my dive gear.

"Everyone ready?" I whispered, getting an acknowledging set of nods from the four men in the boat with me. "Ok, Rahim I need you to wait out here, start heading in for collection at three fifteen exactly. Hold off shore until we signal before landing though ok? Three flashes, if you don't see them give us until half past and then get yourself to safety, we'll make our own way back."

He nodded doubtfully, he didn't seem the kind of guy to like the idea of cutting and running, but I didn't want him or his people to get caught if things went wrong.

"Any final questions?" I asked finally as we drifted towards the drop off point.

"I got one Snowy," Jay said, his deep voice low and soft. "Who's buying breakfast in the morning? I've got a feeling I'm about to work up one heck of an appetite."

"Hell yeah," Elliott whispered back, bumping knuckles with his friend.

"Boys, we do this right and by the numbers, I'll buy everyone breakfast and beers back in Srinagar," I said smiling. "Right then ladies, if that's it let's get in the water; stay close and no noise…let's stay low and take it slow ok?"

"You got it Snowy," Andy replied, "low and slow."

"Slow and low," I responded automatically, winking at him and pulling down my mask. Taking a breath I put the regulator into my mouth and eased myself into the water, slipping over the side of the boat as silently as I could.

The water was cold as it soaked into my fatigues, weighing me down slightly as I swam slowly around the back of the boat towards the land. Despite the cold the water felt good, reassuringly good; and, as I began the long swim into the lion's mouth, I let myself feel confident for a moment.

Only for a moment though, it wouldn't do to become complacent.

Twenty five minutes later I wasn't feeling quite so good. I had a dull ache in my injured right leg that I was struggling to sake off as I swam towards the land. We were so close to the compound now that we were forced to spend most of our time underwater, minimising the noise and splashing but slowing us down slightly. I had the lead of our little group, and it was my job to pause every now and again and poke my head above the surface of the water, to check how far away we were; using a compass on my wrist to try and stay on the right heading.

I felt horribly vulnerable every time I surfaced; even though the chances of my blackened face being seen from the shore was extremely slim. Still, I didn't take any unnecessary risks as I surfaced for what I hoped would be the last time, easing my mask from my eyes before I did so, not wanting to chance a reflection from a random light from the shore.

As I blinked away the water that dripped down from my forehead into my eyes I could see the shape of the boathouse about a hundred meters away from where I was, and right in front of me. In the gloom I could see a dot of red light in front of me, the familiar glow of a lit cigarette. I could also, bizarrely, hear the sound of music playing; the guard presumably making the most of his lonely spot.

Grimly I slipped beneath the water once more, using my arms to pull myself deeper before following the compass once more, I could swim one hundred meters in my sleep and it was with the familiar feeling of raging adrenaline I pulled myself through the water as gracefully as I could, trying to stay as calm as I could and it wasn't long before I saw the legs of the dock looming in front of me. Taking a quick glance around me I saw shapes that told me that the others were nearby; one, two, three four…all of the team had made it to the shore and were obviously waiting for me to make the next move. Slowly I sculled my way to the edge of the dock, breaking the surface of the water next to a half sunken boat. I could see the shape of the guard get to his feet and throw his cigarette into the water, not feet from my position. My eyes met his as he looked out over the water and I had to move fast before he gave us away.

Quickly I lined up the painted dot of my sight onto the centre mass of the guard and squeezed the trigger gently. There was a dull hiss as the gas canister of my spear-gun propelled the wickedly sharp multi-pronged dart towards its target; for a second I thought I'd missed as he stared into the water in disbelief, but then his head tracked down to the protruding silver shaft. With almost unbelievable deliberateness his body crumpled from underneath him and, with a thud, he fell to the deck dead.

Quickly I signalled to the guys to surface and we climbed onto the deck of the boathouse; my shorts and vest dripping water onto the wooden surface. As silently as I could I pulled off the dive cylinder and my waterproof bag and began to get ready, pulling on my black jacket and trousers and of course my bullet proof vest. Around me the guys were getting prepared too, the noise discipline perfect; you could have heard a flea fart in that boathouse and the lack of noise outside told me that this part of our plan was a success.

As I pulled the thin black balaclava over my head, making sure my hair and neck were completely concealed, I felt calm, ready and organised; next was the headset of the radio that would link us all together and then the helmet with the pull down NV gear. As I adjusted the goggles to my eyes, the boathouse was illuminated in that eerie green light I knew so well. Slotting my pistol into its holster I fastened everything down so that there would be no rattling from my gear and tucked my flippers, mask and tank into my kit bag. The plan was to dump everything over the side on the way home, the last thing we needed to have with us if we were caught was diving gear and weapons.

Finally ready, I picked up my rifle, slipped in a fresh magazine and cocked; it flicking on the holographic sight and taking a breath. As I turned back to the guys I saw Elliott pulling the body of our guard into the shadows, ripping the spear that had ended his life from his chest with a wet squelch. With a thumbs up he dragged a cloth over the corpse and stood up; we were finally ready.

"Panda, it's Snowy," I whispered into the headset, even that sounding like a shout in the silence of the night, "we're in, what's the situation."

"More or less the same," came that comforting drawl in my earpiece, "two on patrol, one the roof. The one at the front door has been joined by a mate, they're sitting around and having a drink though; still don't look very serious."

"Roger that, one more guy on the door. We ok to come out?" I asked, the nerves starting to build.

"One second Snowy, you've got a patrol about a hundred yards from you...ok you're good to go."

"I'd heard a dull thud over the earpiece and I knew that Cook had eliminated the target for us. Gesturing at the team I opened the door and glanced outside, the NV's making it as bright as day despite the cloudy sky.

"Taking out the guy on the roof now Snowy," Cook said smoothly, "give me a second before you move out."

One 'thud' later I heard Tom call out "Contact down," over the radio and suspected that the rooftop guard was no longer a threat. Sure enough, seconds later I head him speak again. "Team one you are go for entry, we have you covered. Seconds later we were out of the doorway, splitting into two sticks as planned to hit the nearest building, one of the hotspots on Cook's thermal scope.

As Andy and I lined up on the doorway, Simon stepped back, raising his rifle to his shoulder and aiming it at the lock. As we prepared to breach I had a sudden memory strike me and I held up my hand to hold them back for a second.

'_Door's not locked Ems,'_ I'd said on a playful day at her flat, the day she's given me my mother back. _'You really should learn to check these things.'_

Reaching out a hand I eased down the handle and pushed at the doorway, smiling at myself as it opened easily. Seconds later we were in the building, rifles sweeping the angles as we did so. There wasn't a need for words as we cleared the first room and made our way over to the only door preparing to enter, hand gestures were enough to communicate in the closeness of the building. For the second time in as many minutes we stacked up on the doorway, weapons free and ready. As Andy reached out an arm for the handle we were surprised to hear the door creak and start to open, after than it was three seconds of mayhem.

The first shot I fired on the mission was straight into the face of the surprised looking man, naked to the waist and clearly having just climbed out of bed. As we rushed into the room there was a flurry of muffled fire as two more of the bad guys fell under our assault.

Some might say what we were doing was murder, hitting them immediately as they woke from sleep. Right then I didn't give a fuck what people might think; we put them down like rabid dogs and with as much, if not less, thought about it. These people had, directly or indirectly murdered innocents in cold blood and right now they were standing between me and my girl.

"Team one, building clear," I said, alerting everyone that we were done, "three coming out."

"Negative to that Team One," Tom replied coolly, "area is _not_, repeat _not_ clear. We suspect that the patrol is approaching your position, suggest you and Team Two take cover until he passes."

"Can you take the shot?" I said as quietly as I could, easing the door so it looked like it was closed just in case.

"Negative Team One we have zero visibility on the target; contact has part of the building between himself and us. We'll pick him up again when he passes the back of the building."

That wasn't any good to us; if he got to the back of the building, the part that was facing the hill that Cook and Tom were on, he'd practically fall over Jay and Elliott and that was a risk we couldn't take.

"Team Two, Team Three hold position and stay secure, I'll handle this," I said, passing my rifle backwards towards Andy nodding as I felt it taken from my grasp. I watched the guard's approach through the crack in the doorway and fingered the combat knife that was strapped to the outside of my boot. As the patrol passed, his attention drawn to the sound of music from the boathouse I slipped from the doorway and with three long steps ghosted up behind him, wrapping my left hand across his mouth.

The next few moments weren't very pleasant; I didn't bother with the melodramatic slice across the jugular or the dramatic reach around to plunge the blade through the heart. I went for what I hoped would be the quickest and quietest kill, thrusting the blade into the base of the skull and severing the spine.

It was harder than I thought it would be, and I didn't think it would be easy.

The guard stiffened reflexively as I grabbed him I drove the knife in and up, putting all my weight into the gruesome task of pushing past bone and muscle. Holding him tightly, his mouth covered; I moved the blade around inside his body until, after a sickening crunch, he relaxed into my grip his life extinguished. Only then did I relax fractionally, dragging him back to the building to hide the body.

"Nice work Sarge," Simon said as, with some difficulty, I withdrew my blade; having to put my boot onto the body and heave to get it out. I shrugged as I wiped the blood off the blade onto my trousers before sheathing it. "Looks like you've done that before."

"Oh yeah, _hundreds_ of times," I whispered back, allowing just a hint of sarcasm in my voice. "Watching war films and playing Call of Duty on the Xbox back at base in Kandahar. I was a copper Si, I wasn't in the SAS you know. I haven't handled a knife like that since basic training."

"Doesn't look like it," Andy said clapping me on the shoulder and passing me my rifle. "That was nice work Snowy."

"Yeah, real nice work Snowy," Cook said over the radio. "You ladies are all in the clear now; you and Team Two are go for approach to building two."

"As the three of us exited the building, again closing the door behind us, I saw the others ghost across the open ground, practically invisible even with the extra illumination that we had.

"Team Two in position," Jay said as they set up against the main building.

"Roger that; Panda, Team One are heading for the main entrance, do you have us?"

"I've got you Team One, you are clear; move on my mark...three, two, one, mark."

We were off and moving as soon as he spoke, confident that his over-watch had us well and truly covered. Almost as soon as we hit the wall I heard him over the radio once more.

"Teams One and Two we are repositioning now," he said, exactly as planned, "hold positions and provide cover please."

"Roger that, come on down." I sent as we positioned ourselves to provide cover, the three of us doing a fair impression of Charlie's Angels against the buildings wall. It was a really tense time as we waited for the others to reach us from the hill side, and having the time to think about it I realised it was a stupidly risky part of the plan. Anything could happen right now and we'd be caught totally cold.

"On approach now," Cook said minutes later as my heart beat into complete overdrive. "Thirty seconds."

"Roger that, thirty seconds," I replied concentrating on my sector, praying that nothing went wrong while they were exposed. I could see them out of the corner of my eye, running towards the boathouse as planned. Moments later the two of them had split up, the 'Intervention' now dumped in favour of their own silenced assault rifles.

"With you Snowy," I heard Cook whisper as his hand clasped my shoulder. "Are we good?"

I nodded and gave the thumbs up to the three of them before tapping my head and pointing towards the far corner of the building. The message was simple, I'm taking the lead and we're heading over there; for good measure I pointed at Cook and gestured behind us, waving my hand from side to side to indicate he should cover the rear. With everyone ready I gave the signal to the two teams to move in; and we were 'on mission' again.

This part of the rescue was where communications and coordination were the key elements for our success. We were splitting into two teams for the main assault so that we could simultaneously take both entrances to the building that we'd been able to see from the pictures we'd been sent. We didn't have a clue as to the internal layout, but we'd made a guess that Emily would be being held somewhere in the centre of the building. The only thing we could do was go in from either end and work our way room by room until we found her; and hope that we could do it quick enough so that no-one had time to harm her.

One glance at my watch told me that Rahim would be starting his entry into the inlet in about five minutes or so; the noise of his engine, or the helicopters if it arrived early would be a sure fire giveaway and we had no time to waste lollygagging. I edged out from around the corner of the building, careful not to expose myself too much. The two guards on the main door were still lounging around and we had to move quickly to neutralise them before we could get in.

"Team One, heading for the main entry," I whispered, "Team Two hold position by the back door; let's go in together ok?"

"Roger Team One," came the reply, "we are at the back door ready to breach at your call."

I held up two fingers to the boys, getting nods in reply. I pointed to Simon and indicated that he should come with me, and take the left most target. Sticking to the shadows like ninja's we crawled around the corner and Simon and I lined up on our targets, finger gestures telling me that we each had a target. The two muffled shots came but a micro-second apart, my shot giving the signal that we were weapons free.

As the bodies fell to the ground Cook and Andy ran past us, careful not to expose themselves to any of the darkened windows. As I got to my feet though the plan went to shit, a cry going up from the doorway; a cry that was ended by a strangled scream as Cook's silenced rifle spat out.

"Team Two we may be compromised, breach now." I called flicking up my NV goggles as they bloomed a complete white out as lights began to come on all around us. The advantage of the night was lost to us now, and the goggles were useless, worse than useless in fact, and all around me I could see the team lifting them and blinking in the light as their eyes adjusted, our night vision ruined.

You simply cannot understand the advantage that the dark gives a soldier, especially with the power of night vision; and it was gutting not to have that advantage for a few minutes longer. Still, it was always a risk of the mission that we'd lose it at some stage, and we all knew what we needed to do.

"Going in," Cook called out as voices began to ring out around the building. We still had the advantage of surprise, and we needed to move fast to maximise it. As the four of us burst into the building, we could hear fire from the far end, team two obviously having made contact with the enemy. Seconds later we'd done the same; half clad figures carrying AK47's appearing in the narrow hallway we were walking down.

"Contact front," Andy called, his rifle already chattering, the heavy rounds ripping into the figures as they stumbled into the corridor. The two unlucky terrorists were practically torn in half under the hail of fire from the four of us, before we dived into cover as someone began shooting back from a doorway ahead.

"Team One we have resistance at the back door, four plus hostiles."

"Roger that Team Two, we have hostiles at the front door too; watch your fire, remember the mission."

I was worrying slightly as the battle raged around me; I knew it was all too easy to make a mistake and I didn't know these guys, competent as they seemed. For all I knew they might get carried away and shoot Emily by mistake, and that wasn't something I was prepared to accept.

"Mother fucker," Cook shouted dragging me down as a round clipped the top of my helmet and ricocheted off into the wall behind me. "Keep your head down Snowy, that fucker was close; bastard nearly marked your card there."

"No-one's going to kill me Paul," I said without thinking, "I'm fucking indestructible remember? Right, you three are on me, give me some covering fire ok."

"What the fuck for, and who the fuck is Paul?" Cook yelled as I slipped a fresh mag into my rifle and scrambled to my feet, crouching and readying myself to move. "What the fuck do you think you're doing Naomikins?"

I didn't bother replying; this was my moment. I felt exactly as I had when I rushed that building in Basra, at that anonymous hill known to us as Zulu Three, as I had felt many times since. This was my moment to make a difference, and as my adrenaline boiled in my blood like a fire I felt a calm wash over me like a damp rag; I was totally ready for the fight, ready for that split second where I would hover between like and death, relying on training, skill and a little bit of luck to keep me safe.

With Cook shooting past me I rushed the room; rifle shouldered and at the ready. As the rounds whizzed past me, I saw the shape of an AK ease its way around the edge of the door; a dark head following it as the hostile attempted to aim. Quick as a flash I drew aim and squeezed the trigger twice, double tapping the bad guy; watching in satisfaction as he collapsed to the floor. Moments later I was in through the doorway, shooting dead another guy who was cowering in the corner; clutching his rifle as if it were on fire. Noting absently as I checked the rest of the room for danger the stain in his groin, his trousers damp from where he'd quite obviously pissed himself in fear.

"Room clear," I called out as I headed back to the doorway, leaning around the frame, my rifle pointed down the corridor to provide cover for the team as they moved up.

"What the fucking fuck Snowy?" Cook said eloquently as he caught up to my position. "Fucks sake, you gave me a fucking heart attack there; next time take a second to explain what the plan is ok?"

"No time to waste Cook, we can't afford to piss about getting held up you know that. Now let's get a fucking move on."

The argument avoided we swept our way down the corridor, listening to the gunfire from the other end of the building. Three more hostiles fell before us and I was beginning to curse the intelligence we'd received about the numbers here. I wasn't the only one either as I could hear Cook chundering away to himself as he covered my back.

"Fucking intel'," he muttered, swapping out his clip for a fresh one, pocketing the mag in a spare pouch. "One day I'd like it to surprise me by being fucking right."

Despite his grumbling he did his job as well as I'd expected him to do. They all did, you wouldn't have thought that the four of us had never worked together like this before, we were like a finely tuned machine; but then the training we'd all received never really goes away.

"Team Two sitrep," I barked out as we efficiently cleared out a large room and paused for breath in the centre.

"Sweeping and clearing," Elliot replied, "Jay's took a hit to the shoulder but it barely clipped him and he's fine; no sign of the package."

"Roger that," I said clicking off the radio and gesturing at the two doorways. "Left or right?"

"Why don't we take the right one Snowy?" Cook answered with a shrug, "Andy, Si you take the left."

"Sounds good," Andy replied, breathing heavily but with a gleam in his eye that told me everything I needed to know about him. We both had it, that sense of joyous excitement that a combat situation gave you. It may seem impossible to believe, but in that moment where like could be extinguished in an instant was where I felt the most alive, where I felt I had the most purpose.

Surrounded by my comrades, knowing that I was part of a team, that was the greatest feeling I'd ever experienced, and it was exhilarating to feel it again.

"Ready?" Cook said as he prepared to kick in the door. "Let's do this then," he said at my nod and with two swift boots we were inside.

This room was dark and smelled of stale piss and worse; there was a dirty looking bowl of water in the corner and chains attached to loops in the wall. It looked like a serial killers playground, and it was where Emily and Brian had obviously been held; with one major problem.

Emily wasn't there.

"Looks like this is where she was, but they've fucking moved her," Cook said, pulling down his mask and spitting on the floor as he stated the 'bleeding obvious'. "Let's hustle Snowy, we need to find her before they spirit her away."

"If they haven't already," I mused clicking on my microphone. "Teams One and Two, the package may be on the move, keep your eyes peeled and watch your fire."

"Snowy, Panda, get down here," Andy's voice said as soon as I released the button. I was already moving, heading for the other doorway and hoofing it after the others. It wasn't long before I found them, peering in through a window and holding up a hand as I approached.

"What you got?" I whispered as I slipped along the wall next to them.

"The jackpot," Si said gesturing at the window, "Miss Emily's inside, bad guys too though, three of them."

My heart nearly jumped out of my chest as I risked a look through the frosted glass, Cook half a heartbeat behind me. On the other side of the wall was the room from the video, their fucking banner still hanging from the wall. There were four people in the room, and all of them were looking pretty much terrified, weapons swinging around nervously as they, presumably, tried to find themselves a plan that would mean their survival. The guy from the video, the fucker with the sword, had a sobbing Emily by the throat, a pistol in his other hand as he used her as a human shield.

"Now you're fucking mine," I muttered hefting my rifle, "you do not walk away from here you twat, I fucking swear it."

"There's your girl Snowy," Cook whispered in my ear, "what's the plan?"

For a second my mind was a blank, all I could see was the terrified face of Emily with a madman's gun to her head.

"Snowy," Cook hissed snapping me out of my thoughts, "either you have a plan or you don't kiddo, get fucking with it."

"Plan," I murmured as my brain thought for an idea, "plan."

It all seemed so fucking familiar, yet I didn't know why, inside the room was a psycho with a gun to my girls head and two rag-heads waving AK's around like they were watering a lawn. It was like a scene from a bad movie, or more like…

"Naomi," Cook hissed again, "dammit girl snap out of it."

"I'm thinking Panda," I said with a frown. "This is like the end of that fucking contest we did, remember? The one in the 'States? Question is, are you going to get it right this time?"

"Fucking A blondie," he said with a nod, understanding exactly what I meant. "Told you mate, this time there's no mistakes allowed."

I glanced down at the cylinder he was hefting in his hand and raised an eyebrow before nodding. As I went to take the flash-bang from his hand he snatched it away and tossed it to Simon.

"Right boys and girls here's the plan. Simon, when Snowy gives the signal I want you to throw that as hard as you can through that window. As soon as it goes off me and Snowy are going in through that door. I've got the guy on the left, Andy? Can you nail the guy on the right from the window?"

"No problem, he said, switching out the magazine on his rifle and shuffling to get ready. "Just say the word."

"You ready Snowy?" Cook said as he set up by the doorway. "You got the toughest shot here kid, taking out the guy that's got Emily. If you don't think you can make it, just say the word and I'll take him out."

"With your fucking record?" I said with a wink, "Not a fucking chance Panda, that fucker is mine, I promised myself that...Team Two," I said switching on my microphone, "we have the package located and are about to breach, what's your situation?"

"We're on your three o'clock, area seems secure," I heard Jay say in my ear and I breathed a sigh of relief.

"You heard the lady boys," Cook said as we stacked up by the doorway. "It's time to go to work, are we all ready?"

"Let's do this," I said giving them all a thumbs up. "Before it's too fucking late," I muttered under my breath.

"Eyes and ears," Simon called out from his position next to the window and I readied myself as he pulled the pin and threw the flash-bang through the glass and into the room. In the blink of an eye there was a loud retort and a burst of bright white light, followed by the sound of cries from the men inside almost drowned by Emily's screams.

Cook and I were already moving as the explosive went off, the doors flying near off their hinges as we smashed our way in. Time slowed down to a crawl as I stepped into the room, my eyes taking in everything as I entered, I saw the two guards fall out of the corner of my eye as I brought my weapon to bear on the screaming face I recognised only too well, the face of the bastard that had killed Brian and terrorised Emily. Our eyes met for a fraction of a second as he babbled away, his eyes glazed as a result of the concussion blast that had rocked them all.

'_I've been waiting for you, you fucker,'_ I thought as I squeezed the trigger, the holographic sight pinpointed on the centre of his skull. _'Burn in whatever hell you believe in you cunt.'_

His head virtually exploded as the three 7.62mm rounds smashed into his nose and forehead, showering the banner behind him with blood and brains. As the body collapsed to the floor, legs twitching involuntarily, I stood over him, kicking away his pistol and putting another two rounds into his body; hearing the shots as Cook and Andy did the same to the rest of the bodies, making sure they were dead.

"Room clear," Cook shouted.

"Clear," Andy confirmed from his position in the corridor. "Area is secure."

"Right let's get the package out," Cook said, "Snowy, that's your job mate. Andy Simon, get ready to clear the way out."

I turned away from the body on the floor and looked at Emily, splatters of blood covering her bruised face. I placed my hand gently on her shoulder and jumped as she screamed.

"It's ok Emily you're safe now," I said, watching the confusion in her eyes as I spoke.

"Who are you?" she yelled, "What's going on?"

"She can't hear you Snowy," Cook shouted tapping the side of his head, "she's still stunned by the banger."

Of course she was, I kicked myself; her ears would be ringing from the blast and she'd probably be completely disoriented. What had worked for us against her captors was working against us now. Realising I had to get the terrified girls attention I pulled off my helmet and tore off my balaclava, watching as her confused eyes finally focused on my face.

"Ems it's me; Naomi," I said slowly, hoping she'd be able to read my lips and recognise me despite the camouflage paint that covered my face and eyes. "It's ok, you're safe now."

"Naomi?" she said staring at me blankly, I grinned and nodded at her, loving the signs of recognition in her beautiful brown eyes as she realised I was really here. Seconds later my arms were filled with red-head as she threw herself at me and I struggled to juggle her and my equipment as she sobbed into my chest

"I knew you would come," she cried, holding me tightly. "I knew you would come and save me. I kept telling them that you wouldn't leave me alone, it's what kept me going…oh Naomi, Naomi..."

"It's ok," I murmured into her ear as she broke down completely, hoping that, if she still couldn't make out the words because of the ringing in her ears, she'd be able to at least hear the tone. "It's all ok now baby, we're here to take you home."

"Ladies, as touching as this is we're on a tight deadline," Cook shouted from the doorway. "There'll be plenty of time for kissing and making up when we get to safety."

"Fuck off Panda," I said, with a smile at his teasing; I'd got Emily back, sort of, and nothing was going to bother me at all.

"Sure thing Snowy," he grinned back, eyes shining with pleasure. "I'd be delighted to in fact; just as soon as you get your ass in gear so we can get the fuck out of here."

He was right, it was indeed time to move, and as good as it felt to have Emily right where she was, I really did need to get my arse in gear. Carefully I dropped my rifle to the ground, stepping back and holding Emily away from me; cradling her head in my hands and forcing her to look right at me as I spoke.

"I need you to put these on," I said exaggerating my words as I made the instantaneous decision; placing my helmet onto her head and unzipping my bulky body armour. "Just in case."

I ignored her shaking head, not wanting to take a chance with her safety, and pulled my bullet proof vest over her torn and dirty clothes. With a smile at her still blinking, tear filled eyes, I zipped it closed and adjusted it on her shoulders; making sure she was well protected. I winked as I clipped the chin strap of the helmet into place, getting a faint hint of a smile in return.

Picking up my rifle I unclipped the bag that was attached to the ejector and emptied the spent brass into my leg pouch. Every one of us had them fitted because we didn't want to leave anything behind us but bodies, certainly nothing that could be traced back to Fitch Industries. 'Policing' your brass was an important part of our mission plan, and toys like these made it almost too easy.

Clipping the bag back in place I ejected my magazine and changed it for a fresh one, winking at Emily again as I took it out of the front of the vest she was now wearing. Playfully I tapped it against the side of her helmet and slotted it home, this time getting a teary look as I did so.

"Put your hand on my back Emily," I said slowly, patting my shoulder. "Just like we did last time ok?"

"Ok," she said shaking her head, as if to clear it, before nodding. "Just like last time."

She placed her hand onto my shoulder like she had in Baghdad and with a quick check of the room we were ready to go.

"Team Two what's going on people?" Cook said as I stepped in front of him, taking position in the middle of the guys. I was desperate to know what was happening, but my earpiece was silent, the radio pack still attached to the vest that Emily now wore.

"Roger that Team Two," I heard him say as we worked our way back to the main entrance. "Team One has the package, five coming out, main entrance."

With Andy and Simon leading the way we left the doorway and worked our way down the side of the building, weapons raised. After that flurry of activity I was shocked by the silence, the night only disturbed by the soft 'put-put' of an engine as the boat approached down the inlet.

"Andy, you'd better signal Rahim," I said as I scanned the horizon, "three flashes. Simon, get on that radio and get an ETA on that chopper, we need to get Emily out of here ASAP."

"Roger that, Simon said, playing with his radio to get in touch with Mel. I watched as Andy sprinted down to the waterline to signal our transport. Moments later he was back with the group, the engine note in the distance increasing as Rahim came towards land.

"Chopper is ETA five minutes Sarge," Simon said looking up at the sky. "Pilot reports his LZ will be the field on the East side of the compound.

"Outstanding people," Cook said as we broke out into relieved smiles, "Out-fucking-standing. You know the game people, Team One let's get to that field; Naomi, Emily you get ready for extraction on the chopper. Jay, you and team…"

"...that's not part of the plan Panda," I interrupted from the cover I'd taken; Emily shoved against a wall with me between her and any danger. I could literally feel her shaking as our bodies touched, and I longed to be able to take her in my arms and finally tell her she was safe and sound.

"Plan's changed Snowy," he said firmly, his tone brooking no argument. "You and Emily will get your arses in that chopper and get the fuck out of here; now stop arguing with me and get ready to extract. Jay, take Team Two and get the equipment in the boat, I want everything ready for dumping on the way back."

"Sure will miss that rifle though," he said clapping me on the shoulder as he got to his feet.

"I'll get you another," I said as I hastily checked Emily over, looking at her injuries in concern.

"Are you ok?" I asked, though it was possibly the most stupid question of my life.

"I am now," she said, reaching out and touching my cheek, "as long as this isn't a dream."

"No dream," I said kissing the palm of her hand before biting her finger gently, watching her flinch as my teeth nipped her. "See? Pain, means it's all real."

"All real," she repeated, tears rolling down her cheeks. "Thank you," she said quietly, "thank you for coming to rescue me."

"Shhh," I said touching my finger to her lips. "It's all part of the service; look Ems we need to get moving, are you ready to leave?"

She nodded as I got to my feet, taking my arm and allowing me to haul her up; I hefted my rifle in my aching arms and allowed the mixture of adrenaline and pleasure to spur me onwards. I patted my shoulder and felt the reassuring warmth of Emily's hand as she got into position.

"Ready to move boss," I said squinting out into the gloom that lay beyond the range of the compounds floodlights.

"Ok move, he said and we were off, making our way across the open space towards the field that Simon had identified as our landing zone. It was the shouts and the movements around me that made me turn, instinct telling me that something wasn't right. Looking over Emily's shoulder I saw a figure run into the courtyard, the pistol in his hand obvious in the lights of the building. Adrenaline surging once more I shoved my way in front of Emily, putting myself between her and the danger once more and pushing her roughly to the ground behind me. As the night was lit up by flashes from the muzzles of the weapons around me, I brought the HK to bear and opened up as well; watching disinterestedly as the gunman danced under the withering hail of bullets that hit him from all sides.

"Clear," Cook shouted, "Team Two, sweep that fucking building again and make sure there aren't any other fuckers hiding. Is everyone ok."

"I'm ok," I called out, suddenly feeling tired as the adrenaline suddenly left my body. I was dimly aware of Emily screaming behind me, and my rifle slipped from my fingers as I turned to see what was wrong; falling to the ground with a heavy clunk.

"Are you hurt," I asked as she stared at me in horror. "What's wrong?"

With a shaking hand she pointed at me and I looked down in the dim light to see that the front of my jacket was wet and shiny.

"Easy blondie," Cook said suddenly appearing at my side, his hands lowering my unresisting body to the ground. "MEDIC!" he yelled, pressing his hand onto my stomach. "Andy, get the fuck over here quick."

"Naomi," Emily screamed and my head spun as she loomed over me, salty tears dripping onto my face, wetting my lips as they landed.

"Hey," I said, thinking absently how croaky my voice sounded as I lay and looked up at the sky, pain now beginning to pour through every nerve in my body, flooding my brain with white fire.

"Hey, no talking blondie," Cook said appearing in my vision next to my girl, "you just lie still, the choppers on its way."

"What's up?" I asked, blinking away the fog that was threatening to descend.

"You've been shot Snowy," Whitey answered, his serious face appearing next to Emily's. "Look mate, we've almost got matching wounds."

"I've been shot Paul?" I said trying to lift my head.

"I said no talking blondie," Cook said, "now stop moving, you'll make this worse."

"Lie still Naomi," Emily said grabbing my hand, the warmth of her skin the only thing I could feel, "stay with me."

"Aw, sweet," Whitey said winking at me, "she's pretty mate; like you said, she's quite the improvement over that bitch you used to date. Whatever happened to her by the way, you never said when you came to visit."

I looked up at him, my eyes flicking between the three faces that dominated my view. At the edges of my vision I saw faces looming out of the fog to surround me as they had in each of my nightmares; standing over me as I lay on the cold ground, their faces stern, but now no longer accusing.

"You're not real," I muttered, causing Cook to frown at me before looking over at Emily, "I'm dreaming, that's all."

"We have a message for you," the voice of 'Freds' McClair said, appearing next to Paul with a smile on his face. "We wanted you to know that you did good Campbell, really good; you saved her like you promised."

"You did good Campbell," the faces of the dead repeated as they began to fade away, "you saved her."

"I did good?" I asked, getting a nod and a salute from both Freds and Whitey as they too faded from view.

"You did good Nomi," I heard Emily whisper, her face suddenly next to mine, "you did real good…you saved me babe, now lie still so we can get you home."

"Home?" I repeated, my eyes drawn down to my feet where someone else I loved had, perhaps unsurprisingly appeared in front of me.

"Home, if that's where you want to go my love," the smiling face of Gina Louise Campbell said as my mind continued to taunt me with impossibilities. "We can go home, we can go anywhere you want to darling; it's all up to you now."

"Emily?" I whispered as mum held out her hand to me, my body preventing me from reaching out to take it.

"No baby girl, Emily can't come with us I'm afraid; it's not her time yet. Come on love, where I am there's no more pain I promise."

"I'm here my love," Emily whispered in my ear, "I'm here; I'm here for you baby."

"Mum," I tried to say as she smiled happily at Emily, before turning and walking away; her silhouette dissolving in the black of night. "Mum, come back."

"What's she saying James," I heard Emily cry, "she sounds so weak."

I felt weak as well, like every single ounce of energy had left my body. I wanted to sleep, to close my eyes and let the pain vanish just like mum had promised. There was one thing I needed to do before I slept though, even my laboured mind knew that. Summoning up what felt like my last dregs of energy I turned my head to see Emily's tear tracked face staring at me.

"Ems," I croaked as she placed her ear to mine, "I'm so sorry."

"Shhh," she hissed as I licked her tears from my drying lips.

"I love you," I said, finally telling her what I needed her to hear.

"I love you too baby," she said, leaning down to kiss my lips, "I love you too."

"Good," I whispered, using what seemed like the last of my energy. "That's good..."

I couldn't continue speaking as everything began to go dark; as if the final curtain was being lowered on the stage of my life. As the feeling started to ebb from my body I looked up into those big brown eyes, the eyes I loved so much; and you know? I found I didn't mind. I found peace in those beautiful eyes that stared at me with nothing but love in them; and finally, with all my heart, I dived into those beautiful brown pools and drowned once more.

My last memory before I gave myself up to sleep was nothing but Emily. The last sound in my ears was Emily's voice and the last taste on my lips that wonderful, salt touched taste of Emily's lips. As I felt her embrace me, I gave myself willingly to her touch and fell into darkness.

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	80. Epilogue

**"Close Protection"**

**Disclaimer –** Welcome to 2013...as usual I own nothing but no debt, a severe lack of talent, a distinct lack of awesomeness and a really, really bad temper (nothing changes, except for the debt).

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**Epilogue**

It was raining as Emily Fitch got out of her car and walked up to the small building. It was a cold, soaking rain and it cut through her clothes as she walked to the hearse and stood, waiting for the coffin to be revealed. The rain fell from the sky as if the Gods themselves were weeping at the loss they all shared.

The tears ran feely from her face as she waited, washed away in the downpour that was all too fitting she thought. A miserable day, for a miserable end.

As the mahogany box was withdrawn from the hearse and lifted onto the shoulders of James Cook and her brother, Andy and the two Simons and finally, looking a strange addition at the back, Elizabeth Stonem. Emily Victoria Fitch took her place at the front of the cortege and, supported by her sister and mother, guided her beloved into the church where she would take her final praise before being interred forever.

"Dearly beloved, we gather today to mourn the passing of Naomi Campbell. A brave soul and a selfless one. A woman who dedicated her life to the protection of others, and in that dedication made the ultimate sacrifice, and gave the ultimate gift to those that she loved. Today, I call upon her friend James Cook to bear witness to Naomi's deeds."

Cook stepped forward from his place in the front rows of the chapel and took his place at the pedestal, clearing his throat as he stood, avoiding eye contact with the audience, instead focussing on the closed coffin and the pictures that had been placed upon it. One containing a smiling Naomi, leaning against a Land Rover with her friends, and the one that had been plastered all over the TV all those months ago; a professional and proud looking Naomi Campbell, resplendent in her dress uniform.

There was one last photo on that casket, slightly hidden behind the others, it was of James and Effy and Naomi and Emily, it was a newish picture and it shouted their friendship louder than any words. Silently James Cook stepped over and drew the picture to the front, running his finger down the smiling face of his blonde friend as he prepared to speak.

"Naomi Easter Moonbeam Campbell," he began with a slight break in his voice; "you were one of the finest people I think anyone could ever have known."

Cook paused for a second, then dragged his eyes from the casket containing his friend and looked around the chapel.

"You know she'd probably hate a ceremony like this, I'm pretty certain she'd probably call it 'bullshit' or 'bollocks' or something like that. I'm absolutely certain that she'd tell me that she was dead and the minute she died that was the end of it. Well I'm here to tell her spirit, wherever it is, that this is not _it_. That there are lots of us that need the ability to mourn her passing no matter how trite she would think it was... that there are people in this room that loved her more than she ever knew; people that want to say goodbye to a great friend, a great soul. People like me, people that want to say farewell to someone that brightened my days more than I could ever tell her.

Naomi was a great one for stories, I don't know why she chose that way to leave her messages of love with us but there you go. She once told me that Gina, her mother, wasn't gone; she didn't mean that she was like a ghost or an angel or anything like that, but that she was still with us as long as the people that loved her still thought about her. Well, if that is the case then Naomi, you are still with us, still with me. In the short time that I knew you Naomi Campbell you wormed my way into my heart with your honestly, your loyalty and your single-mindedness. You are one of the best Naomikins, and I think I'll miss having you around until my dying day. There are more people that want to talk about you Blondie, there are people here that want to express their loss, but for me babe, you'll always be my Naomi. The bravest and the best, the standard that I'll hold every single person I know in the future, simply to make sure they fulfil your legacy. I can't think of a better epitaph for you than that. You were the best and probably the worst of us babe, and I loved ever single part of knowing you; I'll miss you Naomikins, I'll miss you every day that you're not with me."

An uncharacteristic tear fell from his eye as he spoke and he stopped to dab it away.

"Eff, I know you want to say something so I'll leave it there; I just wanted to say how much I love you, and how much I miss you Naomi Campbell."

It was with tears pouring down his chiselled face that Cook sat down, and with a tender kiss to her husband's forehead Mrs Elizabeth, 'Effy', Cook stepped up to the pedestal, a simple sombre black dress stating a testament to her mourning than probably anything else she could have done. The dull material straining slightly over the slight bulge of her pregnancy.

"Naomi," she said tears already running down her cheeks, "if you can hear me today, I want you to remember these words. 'Not too bright are you?' Remember me telling you that? When I was trying to tell you that Emily liked you, and you thought I meant Katie. Well at the time I was right Naomi and it took you fucking ages to realise it, it took you until it was almost too fucking late and then just when things were going so well you went and blew it being a fucking idiot, and then by being a fucking hero. Well...I'm here today to tell you I was wrong; that's right my friend, I admit it, I was wrong Naomi...you probably were the brightest of us all. We didn't see eye to eye on a lot of things, and we didn't get off to the best of starts; but you're a good person Naomi, a great person and I know I'm going to miss you."

A lone tear ran down her cheek as she spoke, as the small congregation in the chapel hung on her every word.

"You did everything you said you were going to do Naomi, and a whole lot more. You did yourself proud Naomi, you did everyone proud; and I don't think I'll ever be able to forgive you for it. We would have been great friends Naomi Campbell; you seemed to think that I could see the future and that's what I saw. You, and me, and lots of little Cook's and Campbell's running around the floor playing and causing trouble, just like you and James."

She placed her hand over her lump and smiled ruefully, as if imagining all the things that her child would have been able to do had Naomi lived.

You denied me that Naomi, you denied _us all _that happiness; but at least I suppose you gave your life doing something meaningful, saving the world one person at a time just like you said you would. I hate you for making me say this again my friend, but I think James was right Naomi, you really were the best of us all, I love you too and I'm going to miss you for the rest of my life as well."

She placed a hand on the head of the casket as she stepped away from the dais and stood for a moment as all eyes in the chapel remained upon her. Oblivious to the rest she bowed her head and muttered something quietly, something that was for no-one else in that room but her and her friend; then, without a second look she sat down next to her husband; leaning into the kiss he placed on her temple, tears rolling down her cheeks.

The chapel fell silent for a second, no-one really knew what was going to happen, but as the master of the ceremony, Naomi would have hated a religious personage to have been involved, went to speak a lone figure cleared his throat and pushed his chair to the front.

"Er...this feels strange to me, speaking to someone that's not really here, but I too have a few things to share so if you all don't mind I'll direct them to you rather than to Naomi herself, wherever she may be."

The small crowd of people looked on at Jonah Jeremiah Jones and waited indulgently for him to speak. He looked around the room and caught an encouraging smile from his wife and steeled himself to continue.

"Naomi Campbell saved my life you know, probably many times, but very specifically twice in fact. Twice that I remember vividly anyway; I'm sure she saved it many times before. The second time is one I'd honestly rather I could forget, and was the one that put me in this thing," he said tapping his chair; "but the first time I remember was back in Iraq. Back then I was a raw officer that had just joined the Close Protection Unit she served in, Naomi had been a Corporal for a few months and I was a stupidly innocent replacement officer for their Lieutenant that had been promoted and reassigned. We were about to storm a building and I had the stupid idea that I should lead from the front; well Naomi soon cured me of that idea. Well, after she dragged me back before I killed myself, and everyone else, by setting off a trip mine and single handedly killing the five people that were sat there waiting to shoot me that is. After that I learned to sit back and let the experts do what they do, and do my best to learn from them.

Corporal Campbell, Naomi that is, or Sarge as she became was a great teacher; she, and her Sergeant at the time, taught me everything I know and she kept me alive so that I could pass that on. My life changed when she left for another section, anxious to head up the promotion ladder, but I'm glad that I got the chance to pay her back, even a little, for what she's done for me. I'm just upset that it was our chance meeting that led us irrevocably to this day. Now I'm alive and she's dead and I can't help but think that she would have been better off if I hadn't stopped that April night...

...I'm sorry Naomi, I truly am, you deserved better from me."

With a bowed head, JJ wheeled himself away from the front and back to his wife and child. As he did so Emily Fitch detached herself from the side of her sister and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his hunched shoulders and kissing him on the cheek, whispering something comforting into his ear. JJ smiled as she spoke, and you could see the relief wash over him at her words. He held Emily's tear filled eyes for a long second before nodding sadly and hugging her back.

"What can I tell you about Naomi Campbell," another voice rang out around the chapel, deliberately drawing the congregations eyes away from that most personal of moments; the hint of a Scottish accent breaking through the cultivated voice. "I could tell you that she was kind, considerate, well mannered and respectful. I could tell you those things because they're all true, but it wouldn't scratch the surface of who she was or what she became. To put it into simple terms Naomi was a hero, a honest to goodness hero. When push came to shove she did what she believed was the right thing always, and that was put others first. I know she was a troubled soul, I know she blamed herself constantly for the things that happened around her, I know that she constantly blamed herself for the deaths of friends and loved ones; it was as if she wanted to work harder than anyone else in order to pay back that debt she felt she owed. Well if that is the case I'll be working for the next few lifetimes I have to pay off what I owe her. She gave me my daughter Emily back in so many ways, not just saving her life, but saving her soul as well. Naomi was, no...Naomi _is_ inspirational, she inspired us all to be the best we could be, to stand firm and never give in and to be brave when everything else seems lost.

I have a son and two biological daughters to my name, but I think of Naomi Campbell as one of my own. I feel her loss in my heart as much as I think I would a member of my own family. Naomi, you came into our lives like a bolt from the blue and you left it just as quickly; I regret not a single thing about it, except that I wish we could have had more time together, I wish we had had the rest of my life to get to know each other...

...Goodbye Naomi Campbell, I hope you are finally at peace."

Silence echoed around the chapel, interrupted only by the faint sound of sniffs as the mourners' sadness seemed to be amplified with every single speaker.

Different people spoke over the next hour or so; some of them familiar, members of Close Protection, Andy and Simon and other members of Naomi's team there. Some of the speakers were unknown to the majority of the mourners, a handful of current and ex-soldiers that had served under Corporal Campbell in Iraq, or had fought side by side with 'Sarge' in Afghanistan. Even Gill and 'Chunks' came to the tiny chapel to say there farewells, tears pouring down their cheeks as they told their own sad stories. All were made welcome by the people in that room, all their stories were absorbed; the picture that was Naomi Campbell being fleshed out with every single tale.

It was with a glare from Katie Fitch that one mourner stepped forward, Amy Jovanovich appearing from the shadows at the back to add her own tale to the mix. She told a sad tale, a tale of lost opportunities and of regrets; one of happier times, of two people that she believed were truly in love but had grown apart. It was only the restraining hand of Emily Fitch that stopped the older twin from saying or doing something that she might, in later life, have regretted.

When Amy finished she looked across at the black clad Emily, sat in place of honour at the front of the chapel. There was a sad smile of respect on her face as they shared a nod and Amy vanished into the shadows once more, as fleeting in Naomi's death as she had been in her life.

"My turn," Katie whispered to Emily as Amy walked away and she stood and turned to face the crowd.

"It may come as a surprise to some people here, but I actually have a lot of respect for Naomi Campbell, I actually really liked her. I know people thought that I was a bit of a cow towards her, but I think we both understood what we were doing and why. We could never be best friends Naomi and I, we're far too different; but we made it work in the best way we could, because we shared people we love."

She shared a watery smile with her sister, mother and brother before she continued.

"I remember the first day I met Naomi like it was yesterday; I'd stupidly set a press pack on her and my sister in the name of publicity for the company and she brought me up on it very sharply." A rueful smile passed her lips as the memory struck her.

"Very sharply indeed in fact...she made me think about what it would be like to visit Emily, if the attack on her had succeeded rather than failed. She took me on a journey to a bleak hospital morgue, and in doing that she made me realise how much I loved my sister; and how much of a total fucking bitch I had been risking her life like that. It took me a while to realise it fully, but because of her actions and her words I have my sister back in more ways than one and that will be Naomi's eternal legacy, that and saving my dignity once or twice along the way as well.

I won't say I love Naomi Campbell, not like so many people here clearly do; I don't know if that would be true for me. But somewhere along the way I realised that I sort of liked her, and more than that I respected her; I think I always will. I know I'll always miss her, I know I'll miss the banter and the fun we did, and would have shared along the way as she made her life with my sister who I know she loved more than life itself."

She turned her back on the mourners and stared at the pictures on the casket, a sad tear rolling down her face.

"Thank you for giving me Emily back Naomi, thank you for always keeping her safe. I really will miss you you know..."

No-one spoke for several minutes after Katie rushed from the 'stage' and sat down; it was as if the room was holding its breath, waiting for the last person to stand and give her side of the story. The rain that hammered down on the ceiling was the only thing to break the collective hush. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity the tiny figure of Emily Victoria Fitch stood and made her way up the short set of steps to stand next to the coffin of her bodyguard, friend and erstwhile lover.

No words were spoken, she had no stories to share; every memory she had of Naomi and herself she treasured, held them close to her and refused to let them go. There would be a time when she would put them into storage in her mind, like the possessions Naomi still had of her time on this planet...tucked away safely now in an old defunct stable at Fitch Manor; there would be a time when Emily Fitch could move on.

This was not that time.

With her back remaining firmly placed toward the crowd she leaned down and placed her lips on the brass plate that announced to the world that the wooden box contained the body of her one true love. Tenderly, slowly, as if there was no-one in the room to see her Emily kissed that gleaming plate and whispered the final words of the ceremony.

"Thank you Nomi, thank you saving my life in so many ways, thank you for _being_ in my life. I love you, I'll always love you and I miss you so much it feels like my life is over," she whispered sadly. "Who the fuck am I going to share things with now babe, who the fuck am I going to grow old with? Fucking hell Nomi you never made it easy for us did you? We could have been great you and I, we _should_ have been great; we should have grown old together my love, we both deserved it. I hope you're finally at peace Nomi and wherever you are I hope you'll wait for me so we can spend eternity together."

If anyone could hear what she said they didn't acknowledge it, looking on as the tiny redhead grieved for the loss of her beloved. If they knew the depth of feeling that she had for the blonde, that too went unremarked; the respectful silence in the chapel continuing as she leaned over the coffin and cried.

Emily's tears splashed against the dark wood, leaving tiny, shining puddles of salty water on the surface. She stood over the coffin crying for a few minutes before Jenna and Effy led her away.

"It's time," Jenna said softly and the mourners began to file out.

o+o+o

Emily Fitch was soaked to the skin as she stood by the graveside looking on, as if moving would make everything finally real. The rest of the crowd had long since left, leaving the bedraggled girl to mourn her loss alone. Apart from the cemetery workers the only figures left were Jenna and Katie, stood apart, huddled under an umbrella held by Richard as they stood next to the Range Rover that was waiting to take them to the wake.

As the rain fell Emily stared down at the headstone uncaring, and read the words one last time.

_'Naomi Easter Moonbeam Campbell_

_Daughter of Gina_

_Beloved of Everyone._

_I will miss you now you are gone,_

_I will miss the love that I have lost'_

One last tear rolled down her cheek as she read the words that she had spent so long perfecting, looking for something simple and meaningful to be carved for eternity into that block of granite. She turned her head slightly to look at the grave to the left.

"I never met you Gina Campbell," she said softly, staring at the picture of the smiling blonde that was forever fixed to the headstone, "but I love you because you gave me the love of my life. I hope that you are together now, and that you'll keep her safe until I join her."

With one last deep breath she turned from the graves; the twin dragons, mother and daughter, reunited at last in death. Her tears fell continuously as she walked over to the car that waited for her, the cold, drumming rain matching her mood and washing away her tears. As she walked she imagined she could hear Naomi's voice in the light breeze that drifted past her ear; her dulcet tones whispering words of love and affection as she had done so many times before in their all too brief relationship.

_'I love you, I'm at peace now, I'll wait forever for you my love.'_

It was with a faint smile that Emily stepped into the open arms of her mother. She knew that the words were conjured up by her mind, knew Naomi had been right when she'd said that it was her imagination telling her what she wanted to hear in the wind that shook the remaining leaves on the trees. She didn't care though, a part of Emily Fitch believed that somewhere, somehow, her Naomi had made it happen; that by some miracle she'd broken the barrier that was death, and had given her one last message to comfort her through her days.

As she was ushered into the car she brought up memory after memory of her Naomi and the tears gave way to a genuine smile, a sad one admittedly, but one that shone with love.

Naomi Easter Moonbeam Campbell was finally at peace, and Emily Fitch was at least grateful for that.

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_fin_

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_OK for those that know that's not the ending that's exclusive to MftM, (that's mftm . forumotion . c o. uk (-; __)_ but this genuinely was my favourite ending of the two...until I got into the story and decided that my characters deserved better. Also Vangoghgurrl sort of made me promise not to use it about 18 months or so ago. Sorry M, but you **have** had the happy ending already so I thought this deserved an outing (-;

_Anyway, for those of you that want to still read my words I'm still writing. LMSY's "Spring" chapter will be hitting MftM hopefully soon, and "Summer" and "Autumn" some point after that. It'll be exclusive to that site though and barring a 'miracle' won't be coming to FFN; too many plagiarising b'stards th__at try to leech of others hard work on here now. T_his site gave me some good times and some shitty ones too; but most of all this place gave me some good and honest friends and for that I'll always be grateful.

_Au revoir_

_Es_


End file.
